Regalos

You know you’re a grown-up when your sister gives you a crock pot for your birthday, and the thing is, you are really, truly, genuinely excited about this. Thanks, Michelle, for the lovely and gigantic crock pot, and thank you especially for the recipes you included. I love it that you carefully blacked out any offending item such as “chicken stock” and neatly wrote in “vegetable broth” to replace it.

At any rate, Rob and I are going back to Nicaragua next week. This is mainly because ever since we left Nicaragua a year ago, I have wanted nothing but to go back. Additionally, I decided to go away for my birthday in hopes that friends/family would just overlook it this year and not give me anything or even mention it. But my sister has already foiled the plan with her preemptive crock pot.

The thing is, I want to take some gifts back to people in Nicaragua but I am having trouble coming up with ideas. If anybody out there has any suggestions, I am all ears. This is complicated by various issues. First of all, there are luggage restrictions nowadays, so we are going to try to just fit all of our stuff—including gifts for people— into our carry-ons. So its got to be small, compact, light-weight, non-liquid, and nothing that could be construed as a weapon. The other thing is that I am not entirely sure how many people I will need to give gifts to. I will want to give a gift to Leda for sure—she is the only one who has been emailing me all this time, keeping me updated on what is happening at Ometepe. There’s generally a pretty high turnover of employees at the Hacienda, so I’m not sure if anybody who was working when I left will still be there. I imagine some awkwardness if I show up with gifts for some people but not others, and I just don’t want anybody’s feelings to get hurt. So whatever I bring, I just need to bring a ton of them and dole them out to whomever I find still there. My initial idea was to get the women canvas bags and then to decorate them, like the one I started (shown to the right). I think I may stick with this for the women in the kitchen, but the bigger issue is of course Eduardo.

I know Rob thinks I’m setting myself up for disaster. There’s a genuine possibility that he’s either turned into an insolent teenager or that he’s disappeared and I won’t be able to find him. I’ve thought and thought and then laid awake and thought some more about what to bring him. I would love to get him some good hiking boots, but how would I know what size shoe he wears? A year ago, his feet were just a little bit smaller than mine, but now its hard to say. The same with clothing. Who knows how much he’s grown between the ages of 12 and 13. So I’m at a loss. What would you get for a 13 year old Nicaraguan boy who has nothing and never has had anything, who has never known his father, who has been sent to live with his grandmother, who is the dearest, sweetest, most generous child to ever grace this planet? I just don’t know. If anybody has any suggestions, please do let me know.

I think I’m just bad at getting gifts for people. I’ve realized that this is partially because people tend to give others things that they want or like themselves. And what I like most of all is emptiness: blank white walls, clean, uncluttered spaces, general nothingness. I hate excess and piles of things and feeling overwhelmed or undeserving. Birthdays and holidays are complicated by the fact that my sister and sisters-in-law are great gift-givers. They always find the nicest things for people; meanwhile, the Ragfields walk in with something home-made that is wrapped in a brown paper bag. So all you great gift-givers out there, tell me your secrets!

Alright, gotta go put some ice on my aching, old-lady knees. Thanks for reading!

Almost Vegan

For a long time, I’ve considered becoming vegan. In fact, I’ve actually been vegan for some extended periods at various points throughout my life, but I guess its never really stuck. It would be sort of a logical progression for me though. I’ve been a vegetarian for long about 11 years, and I haven’t drunk milk on my free will in over 7 years. For the most part, dairy products repulse me, and eggs are always repugnant.

I’m not one of those people that is a vegetarian because I think animals are cute and ought dressed up in bows and have their pictures taken for a calendar. Most animals are okay I suppose, except that I hate cows. I mean, I really hate them. I never thought much about cows until I lived in Nicaragua and they were everywhere. Cows are disgusting, horrible creatures that smell bad and that left disgusting piles of excrement in the path leading up to the forest. And now that I’m back in Urbana, this cow onslaught only continues. If the wind is blowing just right, you can smell the horror that is the South Farms from anywhere in town. Sometimes I forget about it and decide to run south on Lincoln Avenue, on that lovely multi-use path that goes past the vet school and the Arboretum. But always, the stench assails me and then I have to spend about a ½ mile with my hands over my face, trying not to breathe.

What really set the vegan wheels in motion again for me was that a couple of weeks ago, I was bored and flipping channels and came to that show called Dirty Jobs on the Discovery Channel. The host’s “dirty job” in that episode was to artificially inseminate dairy cows (ie, so that they could be milked after having the calf). This was a dirty job alright. It entailed the host getting up to his armpit in shit. Literally. I don’t think that the intention of the show was to persuade anyone to swear off dairy products, but seriously, cheese has not tasted remotely good to me since this.

I eat virtually no egg products and so little dairy as it is. For years, I have gone to great lengths to avoid buying things made out of leather. My philosophy being that I hate cows to such an extent that I will neither eat or wear them. The real reason why I haven’t become vegan is not because of myself, but instead, because of everybody else. It would complicate things for friends and family when we eat together, and it would definitely involve a lot more planning ahead for me (and I already have to plan ahead a lot) whenever we eat out or eat with others so that I make sure I have time to prepare and bring something appropriately dairy and egg free.

I’m not completely locked into this; I’d just like to try it for a while. And above all, I want to be vegan on my own terms. I’ve already decided that although honey isn’t vegan, its something that I consider okay. Particularly because I only eat Gutzmer honey (made by John’s dad) or local honey that I get at the Farmer’s Market or Strawberry Fields. As for dairy, I’m sure the next time that we do a pizza night at Cara and John’s, I will definitely want some of that kalamata olive, basil, and goat cheese delight. Maybe I’ll just be vegan in terms of avoiding things that come from cows. I have nothing in particular against goats and in fact, have often wished to own a goat in order to remove the need to mow the lawn. We’ll see. Like many things in life, this is an experiment.

At any rate, what I loathe most of all besides deforestation, cows, Hummers, and misogynist homophobic TV evangelists, are preachy vegans, so I really hope I didn’t come across that way. And also, just to prove to the world that being vegan doesn’t have to mean deprivation (note: S.L. maintains that after his daughter became vegan, she gained 15 pounds), I will include a recipe for my “special brownies” that I have made 3 batches of since “becoming” a vegan (note: I have been a vegan for less than a week). I call these “special” because there is a secret ingredient that makes them surprisingly moist and delicious, while also using up extra produce from the garden. See if you can guess what it is. The recipe pretty much follows this one from allrecipes.com, but I made a few modifications, included below:

Melissa’s Special Brownies
½ cup olive oil
1 cup organic sugar
½ cup firmly packed organic brown sugar
2 tsp vanilla extract
2 cups unbleached all purpose flour
½ cup unsweetened cocoa powder
1-1/2 tsp baking soda
2 cups shredded zucchini (this is usually about 2 medium zucchini, and don’t skimp on it!)

Preheat oven to 350 and grease baking pan (I think mine is 8X8 or 9X9, not sure).

In large bowl, mix oil, sugars, and vanilla. Stir well. In medium bowl combine the flour, cocoa, baking soda; stir into the sugar mixture. Then add the zucchini and stir well. Pour into baking pan and bake for 25-30 minutes.

Bon appétit.

Thandem Thursday

Cara and John recently got a tandem bike (The Spike) and the four of us have been going on Thursday night bike rides known as “Thandem Thursday” (I believe Cara coined the phrase). Its been a lot of fun. Usually the ride ends at one of our houses with dinner and beer. This past week, we started the ride with a lap around Meadowbrook Park, which is one of my favorite haunts.

I took a some pictures from the back of our bike. I’m never sure if I should post pictures of other people on my blog, so I’ll just keep it to scenery in case C and J want to remain anonymous ☺

Its all a blur to me...


Path in the prairie


Flat, flat land. Sometimes when I'm running here, I imagine that there are monkeys in that tree line in the distance. When I get there though, there never are any.


Later in the ride, we had to stop for a train. "The old Union Pacific doesn't come by here much anymore..."

The next day there was a big ribbon-cutting ceremony for the new bike lane on First St. The mayor of Champaign was there and everything. At least 2 of the local news stations were filming. I wasn’t around to watch the news that night, so I guess I’ll never know if Iris 2 and I made it onto TV. I think the new bike lane is great and all, but it would be nice if it didn’t randomly start at Gregory and then randomly end somewhere just north of Springfield (the whole thing is less than a mile long) and also if it wasn’t covered in gravel, shards of glass, and general rubbish that frat boys toss out their car windows. But still, the debris is not the fault of the people who created/designed it and having this bike path is a really great start. I’ve already been using the path for a couple of weeks, and I definitely do feel a lot safer with it there. It was really inspiring to hear that there are a lot more bike lanes, etc, planned to make cycling even more safe in Champaign-Urbana. On a place like First Street though, where the road is ridiculously wide and there are stop signs or stop lights every block (so cars can’t go all that fast), I already felt pretty safe riding. What would really make a difference would be to have bike lanes in places where it is not already safe to ride (like on Neil or Prospect or Kirby, for instance). I don't know if that's even possible though. I'll keep my fingers crossed.

Video of the ribbon cutting cermony

Progress

I had almost never seen S.L.’s face light up like that. I went in to see him today about the chapters I’ve been working on, and we ended up brainstorming about the important points of my dissertation. He was actually really excited about one of my findings that I had thought was too mundane to go into. In fact, its the same thing I’ve been saying since I got back from Nicaragua, but today I managed to put it into a put it into a catchy phrase that would apparently make a great title for a meetings paper. I still have a lot of work to do sorting all this out, but it was pretty rewarding to see S.L. get excited about what I’ve been toiling away on for months. Juvenile foraging proficiency aside, it all comes down to the mom, and baby monkeys need mommas who eat right. Stay tuned to (one day) see how this all relates to life history evolution.

Running with sweet corn

Cousin Don* brought a load of sweet corn from his farm to running club tonight. He usually does this at least once in the summer; I can’t speak for everyone else, but I always look forward to this. In addition to being a nice guy and a fast runner, Cousin Don grows some good sweet corn.

I picked up two ears of corn: one for Rob and one for me. Of course, Rob and I had both run over there, so that meant we would be running back home with our ears of corn. I thought, this is Urbana. No one’s even going to give it a second glance. We started home, and I carried an ear of corn in each hand. People did actually give us second glances. I realized I probably looked like a corn thief. Like I had gone into somebody’s field, stolen two ears of corn, and was now fleeing the scene of the crime. On our way back home we caught up with two women from the club who had left just a bit before us. Each of them was carrying two ears of corn as well. We must have looked like a very strange procession, running along with our ears of corn. Only in Urbana.

Sometimes, getting fresh, local produce is all about being in the right place at the right time. All things considered, I’m glad that Cousin Don didn't bring watermelon.

Thanks to Cousin Don for sharing his delicious sweet corn!

*No relation.

In search of local produce

I recently decided that I wasn’t enough of a hippy (85% hippy according to John G), so I joined the local food Co-Op. The Co-Op is in progress of moving to a bigger store, which is good news because their current location is in a church basement and that kind of freaks me out. Unfortunately, I’ve been a little disappointed with the Co-Op thus far. I had been very excited about the prospect of having access to local organic produce, etc, but after my first shopping spree, I spent a ton of money and didn’t even come back with enough stuff to make dinner. There were a few vegetables from a farm about 25 miles away, but still a lot of the produce was from California (such as the obscenely expensive potatoes I bought). Strawberry Fields (a local health food store) pretty much has the same stuff for less money, though it is still all obscenely expensive. On the plus side, the Co-Op does carry Burt’s Bees products for less than I’ve seen them anywhere else. I think that in principle, the Co-Op is a great thing and I hope that once it moves out of the church basement, it will be a lot better. I’ve been told that they will carry 3 times as much produce in their new location, so that’s good news. Considering that I’ve got 9 cucumbers in my fridge right now and another 60 or 70 still growing on the vine out in my garden, I’m wondering if I could become their cucumber supplier.

Cucumbers from the garden

At any rate, I was unrelenting in my quest against the corporation and continued my search for local produce to supplement the cucumbers in my garden. Luckily, I didn’t have to go too far. Just about a half a mile away over in Orchard Downs there is a group of Chinese gardeners who sit out at picnic tables selling their produce all day long. When I discovered this, I was overjoyed for a couple of reasons. First, the local Farmer’s Market is held only on Saturday mornings, and what with Rob’s triathlon and bike racing schedule, we are almost never in town for it. And secondly, I really, really wanted to support these people. Their gardens are right along Race Street—where I run just about every day. Over the months, I’ve seen them preparing the ground, planting the seeds, tending the seedlings, and trying to hold back the flooding that surely destroyed some of their crops. During our rainy, rainy June, so many of those garden plots were completely submerged by the rains, and I’d felt so bad that after so much hard work they might lose everything. But once the rains subsided, many of the green rows were still there, and now they’ve got vegetables to sell.

So I hopped on Iris 2 and rode over to Orchard Downs. When the farmers saw me approaching, everybody got up from the picnic tables and surrounded me, thrusting lovely vegetables towards my nose and excitedly saying things in Chinese. I was a little overwhelmed. As it turned out, nobody spoke any English, except for one woman who smiled kindly and said, “Little English,” then pointed to a lovely bunch of green onions and said, “One dollar.” I ended up buying some of the onions (which are the best green onions I’ve ever tasted), and I will definitely return the next time I need anything green. The piles of green things they had displayed on the picnic tables was about twice the size of the selection at the Co-Op, and this produce is really local.

Green onions

I came home to make dinner and listened to a “Learn Chinese” podcast so that when I go back to visit my new friends, I will at least be able to say “Hello” and “Thank you.” If anyone who lives around here is reading, I highly recommend this truly local market!

Meanwhile, my own garden continues to expand its borders. So far the only things I’ve been able to eat from it are cucumbers, kale, basil, and cilantro. But in another couple of weeks I will be inundated with more tomatoes than I’ve ever seen in my life. I’ve been eating cucumbers like other people might eat potato chips, and I’ve had to get creative to find uses for the kale. While searching for kale recipes, I ended up getting confused and combining this one and this one. What resulted is actually pretty good:

Kale and Adzuki Bean Farfalle
3-4 cloves garlic
6-8 cups chopped fresh kale
1 tsp cumin
1 tsp coriander
about 2 cups (cooked) Adzuki beans
1 box of tri-color farfalle pasta
Feta cheese
Tamari sauce or salt (optional)

Saute the garlic in olive oil. Add the kale, you may need to add a little water. You will soon see what was once a giant and nearly unmanageable quantity of raw kale disappear into nothingness. Add the cumin and coriander, stir to coat. Add adzuki beans.* You might add a little salt or tamari sauce (for more of an Asian kick), but I usually don't.

Meanwhile, boil water and cook the pasta according to instructions. Drain. Serve the kale mixture over the pasta and top with feta cheese.

This is usually enough for 2 nights worth of dinner for a hungry cyclist/triathlete and a hungry marathon runner.

* You can either use canned beans or make them yourself. For dry adzuki beans, you can put them in water to soak when you leave for work in the morning and then cook them for 40 min to 1 hour when you get home. You can also use the quick soak method: you boil them for 2 minutes, then let them sit for an hour, then boil them again for 40 min to an hour and they are good to go.

That’s all for now. I’ve got to get back to the Tour de France and my increasingly unwieldy chapter on the howler monkey diet. Thanks for reading!

Seven years

When I was 17, I distinctly remember vowing never to get married. I envisioned myself as some kind of Emily Dickinson-like poet-hermit, though I did plan on eventually adopting a Burmese orphan and naming her Cassandra Jane. A year after deciding these things, I met Rob. How differently my life has turned out.

To commemorate our 7 year anniversary, here is a small selection of a list I am making entitled “1000 Reasons Why I Love Rob”:

2. You fixed my coffee grinder with duct tape.
9. You knitted me a scarf in January of your sophomore year.
30. You gave me “bitch” socks.
94. You played racquetball with Garber.
135. You look really good in your cycling gear.
162. You learned to like oatmeal.
163. Conny thinks you’re delicate.
175. You ran the last 9 miles of the Run for the Ranch Marathon with me when I felt terrible.
177. You made my blog into a book.


Happy anniversary, RB!