Posts from — February 2010

(20-Minute Jim) If it’s Friday and if it’s during Lent (the season leading up to Easter observed by many Christians), then Jan and I are likely eating fish for supper. It’s not a religious practice for us; we’re strictly tourists but for about the past five years, Jan and I have been attending the various Fish Fry dinners hosted mostly by Catholic churches and Catholic-flavored charities. How we got started is a story in itself but one for another time. Tonight we attended the Knights of Columbus in Dexter, MI and, boy were we impressed.

First of all, the fish was incredible. As is common, it came both baked and fried, but the fried fish was pan fried not battered and deep fried. This was some of the best cooked fish I’ve ever eaten, truth be told. It was tender and moist and since there wasn’t a thick coat of batter, I felt I was getting more actual fish. Both the baked and pan fried were excellent but I think I preferred the fried, which just re-enforces my suspicion that everything tastes better fried.

The fish at a fish fry is obviously important but personally, it’s one of the traditional side dishes – macaroni and cheese – that is the hardest to pull off. (I still prefer the kind Jan makes.) The mac and cheese in Dexter was solid but not stellar. The sauce was ample and cheesy but the noodles were a bit too soft for my preference. Make no mistake, I still asked for a double scoop on both the plates I ate.

That’s right I had two plates full of food and I could have gone back for more. It’s kind of funny I suppose that Lent – a time traditionally associated with “giving up” something – also is the time of these fantastic, frequently all-you-can-eat dinners.

The Dexter K of C had a few other special touches. There were fried shrimp which were nothing spectacular on their own but a nice addition. And there were baked potatoes in addition to the french fries. I skipped the fries but Jan says they were excellent. Incidentally, I recommend dipping french fries into tartar sauce: I’ll never go back to ketchup. Desserts in general aren’t my thing but Jan reports there was a very good selection that included many homemade treats. I did notice that since the Knights of Columbus have a members only liquor license that some folks were enjoying a beer with their meal.

I scanned the room of round tables and it was easy to remember what had attracted Jan and me to these Fish Frys in the first place. There were a couple hundred folks – seniors, families, teenagers, other middle aged couples like Jan and me. We didn’t know a soul but it felt like we belonged here. We felt welcome. Certainly, it’s nice to know that the K of C is a charitable organization and the money raised from the tickets goes to help people in need. But what keeps Jan and I searching out places to have fish on Friday is that sense of warm, common humanity that we found in Dexter.

Jim sent me this link from Lifehacker, which was a post from the Instructables site on how it’s possible and easy to grow onions from old onion bottoms.

Sounds like a dare, doesn’t it? Sure, I’m game. Since it will be a couple months still before our soil is ready for digging around in, we’ll try growing some onions inside using the method suggested.

Rather than fishing for said discarded onion bottoms in the compost bin, I decided to play sous chef and chop up 6 or 7 onions at one go in order to have the bottoms to plant. I rarely prep that way in the kitchen, but when I was shopping at the big grocery store last week, I came across quart-sized pre-chopped onions in the produce section. Hey, thought I, that container of onions costs waaay too much money for the convenience, but I bet it would be handy to have some onions always ready to roll. So far, it has been easy to toss a handful of onions into the pan when making eggs or Jim’s savory oats– a step we’d likely skip in those cases, if the onions hadn’t been all ready ahead of time.

We had a planter of soil in the house from a previously unsuccessful winter-time growing experiment, so I only needed to add a little more soil and work some water into the dry dirt. Once the pot was dampened, I pushed the onion tops into the dirt and covered them up.

Now I’ll wait and see what happens. To be continued…

Jim recently reset his computer desktop to a picture from last summer’s garden.

The colors and textures are so stunning that I’m surprised and delighted every time I sit down at the computer and see the picture. On the big computer screen, the tomatoes are slightly larger than life-size; our 3 year old granddaughter insisted they were pumpkins! It’s an inspiring reminder: yes, spring will come; yes, edible things will grow in our garden; and yes, it will happen soon.

Is he hiding?

Seeking?

Peeking?

No, he’s pruning.

On a recent Sunday morning, I couldn’t find Jim in the house when I was looking for him. Then a movement out the back window caught my eye. There he was, bundled up and out in the snow, pruning the apple tree. I hadn’t heard him go out to the yard.

So I did a little peeking of my own and captured him in action.

Thank heavens for the zoom function. I could get closer without putting on my coat!

From inside the warm house, I enjoyed the voyeuristic pleasure of a job well done.

Good work, Jim!

The heavy snow we had last week erased so many things that I nearly forgot about the other creatures who use our yard even while it’s cold. As I made my way out to the barn today, however, mine weren’t the only tracks in the snow.

There were these tracks, made by a critter with legs just long enough to traverse the yard with its belly dragging in the snow. Each stride is nearly a hop, such a labor to move just a few inches.

Another set of tracks snakes around a bit. Whoever made them had longer limbs. Movement was easy. My guess is a cat.

There were also strange marks at the end of one trail, where the snow was disturbed, scraped up like a scuffled had occurred. There were no other marks leading up to or away from it. I suspect that a hawk or an owl swooped down and carried away the creature in mid-stride. The thought is a bit strange that this place of recreation for me is also deadly serious to others.

When I reached the barn, I looked behind me and saw the large marks my boots had left on the snow. This snow that I soon would track into my kitchen, snow that will melt to puddles and soak into Jan’s socks if I don’t hurry and mop it up.

The gift I took from the garden today was a sense of these impermanent traces we leave through the world.