use real butter

Recipe: anzac biscuits

I can never get into the mountains early enough. This is the truth seeing as we like to mountain year round. It’s just that the summer season is so fleeting up here – typically not melting out fully until mid-July and then getting snow as early as mid-September. Trust me, I am NOT complaining about snow in the backcountry. In fact, I would prefer a little more this year. Jeremy and I did a couple of hikes recently and nearly cried tears of sorrow at the sparse and measly little patches of snow at 11,000 feet. I mean seriously… this is what the backcountry looked like last year on the first day of summer.

my kind of summer

Really though, our tears are more for the parched wilderness than the skiing. We can find skiing of one kind or another most of the year, but the snowpack is 2% of normal right now and there is a giant wildfire blazing an hour north of us. We are on alert. Our evacuation items are ready. In the meantime we hike (and mountain bike and trail run). It’s funny to walk up these trails without heavy boots and skis and skins on your feet, and by funny I mean way the hell lighter. It’s also mind-numbingly slow hiking out compared to skiing out. And it’s hot. That’s why we love our mountain forests, for the shade they provide and the beautiful, lush undergrowth.

shooting star by a small stream

ski hut

the view across to the continental divide

When I first began hiking with Jeremy almost 20 years ago, I was an impatient hiker who was hellbent on peak-bagging. I think that’s a common newbie characteristic. As I’ve grown older, maybe even wiser, I’ve come to accept it for what it really is – a journey. The journey IS the goal. Once I understood this, I’ve enjoyed a greater success rate of summits despite the fact that summits aren’t really my goal anymore. So zen. This is especially so when you hike in a place you know well, as if you are visiting the plants and animals and rocks and streams – the community. One of my favorite local hikes is Pawnee Pass (and Pawnee Peak given no thunderheads) on the Continental Divide. It’s beautiful. It is long enough to be a worthy hike, yet not so long that it kills you. It has a nice climb, great views, and so many wonderful flowers and critters at the right time of day and right time of year.

fairy primrose (alpine primrose)

my favorite blue: alpine forget-me-nots

The flowers get shorter and smaller as you climb higher, because the weather trashes the higher elevations with wind, rain, snow, everything it can throw at you. Look out across the high country and most people see grasses, dirt, and rock. If you look closely, you will discover so much life thriving in little crevices where a pocket of soil has developed in the lee of the boulder or a stream has fed a tiny depression. This has always amazed me, inspired me. A few years ago I had done this hike with Jeremy, our friend, Marianne, and Kaweah. It was shortly after my radiation treatments had ended, but I felt that I needed to get outside. Halfway up, I was hit with these recurring abdominal pains which I figured were just side effects from radiation or perhaps chemo. I didn’t realize I had a smoldering appendix until two months later in the emergency room. But I told Jeremy and Marianne to hike ahead and I would have Kaweah for… company (let’s face it, she’s not saving ANYONE) and that I’d just turn around when I caught up with them on their return.

on the pass

storm clouds building

Jeremy and I talked about that hike this time.

Me: Remember when…
Jeremy: Yeah. I was so happy when I saw you and Kaweah coming over the rise.
Me: I didn’t know if I was going to make it to the pass, but I leaned into it and put one foot in front of the other and the distance just disappeared under my feet.
Jeremy: I’m sure Kaweah was tugging at the leash and going nuts smelling all of the marmots and pikas.
Me: There was that…

Maybe the reason I love hiking so much is that I find it’s a lot like life: a journey, an adventure, with very real risks and decisions. It’s good to be at it again, good to see the high country in bloom and buzzing with critters. It reminds me that it’s good to be alive.

Have you ever done a hike that you thought looked or sounded meh on paper, but turned out to love once you were actually there? I love those kinds of surprises. (I’ve also done plenty of hikes that looked like they would be awesome and were absolutely miserable.) This cookie was one of those for me. My first introduction to the ANZAC biscuit was when I visited my friend, Kell, in Sydney. She placed her hand on the cookie jar and said in her delicious Aussie accent, “Jen, I’ve got some ANZAC biscuits here if you’d like to have some.” There was no sign of chocolate and they sounded interesting – this cookie was sent to those in the Australia New Zealand Army Corps during World War I, because it wouldn’t spoil on the long trip to the soldiers. I forgot about them until day 2, and I could have sworn she put crack in those cookies.

what’s really in an anzac biscuit: butter, flour, oats, coconut, sugar, golden (or light corn) syrup, salt, baking soda

mix the dry ingredients together

**Jump for more butter**

Recipe: crunchy kale salad

Our evening walks with Kaweah are getting later and later because we try to avoid taking her out when the sun is still up. She overheats easily. Thankfully, as soon as the sun drops low, the air begins to cool quickly in the mountains. You can feel the delicious streams of cool air flowing around your ankles as you hike the neighborhood trails. Wildflowers are full speed ahead and the once new spring-green aspen leaves have turned to a soothing deep, dark green.

the blur is kaweah’s wagging tail

indian paintbrush and yarrow

happily taking a rest in a field of clover

I reached down to give Kaweah a pat on the ribs as we left the trail to return to the house. Her fur was cool to the touch. She was clearly happy, lazily wagging her tail as she sniffed every.single.plant on the side of the road. I pressed my palm to my arm and was delighted that my skin felt COLD.

c’mon, let’s go!

well, there’s always time for a belly rub

Thank goodness for the evening cooldowns around here, or else I would have lost my marbles back in April. We’ve been on a busy rotation of salads because the last thing I want in summer is to cook and then eat a hot, heavy meal. I want fresh, crunchy, green things! This means I’m always on the lookout for something new. When my pal, Denise, and I checked out the Native Foods Boulder soft opening in late May, we ordered strategically so we could get as big a sampling of the menu as possible. Native Foods is a popular vegan restaurant, not because it is vegan, but because they serve some great food. That said, I am not a fan of faux meats or faux cheeses (faux food isn’t my thing). But, I absolutely fell in love with their crunchy kale salad and immediately went home and made it for Jeremy.

all you need: kale and cabbages

avocado, apple, almonds, and black currants

tahini, orange juice, maple syrup, olive oil, (not pictured: salt, lemon juice)

The salad is chock full of healthy goodies and unlike lettuce, it doesn’t wilt much if you make a large batch to enjoy over the course of a few days. That’s because it has hearty greens like kale and cabbage. The rest of the ingredients are either neutral or sweet. If you are seeking a tangy, salty salad – this is not it. But it’s a fantastic, hearty salad that is satisfying without being overly heavy.

trim the kale leaves from the stalks

shred the kale

add shredded cabbage to the bowl

**Jump for more butter**

Recipe: strawberry syrup

Despite the months of faux summer we’ve been experiencing, the real thing is soon upon us. We spent the entire weekend in “spring cleaning” mode. Then with the High Park fire in Colorado burning strong to the north, we took the time to cull and update our important documents and other critical items for the evacuation bin. Always be prepared, right? It’s going to be a long summer.

we could use more rain, less lightning (although i do love the lightning)

Believe it or not, I have been waiting for summer with anticipation. Waiting for those strawberries to arrive at the markets. I don’t mean the strawberries that have to travel a thousand miles from California (or Mexico) to the grocery stores – picked too early and bred for making the long journey at the expense of flavor, sweetness, ripeness. I’m referring to the lovely local gems that are misshapen, small, imperfect, and smell like candy.

don’t mind if i do

If you have no idea what I am talking about, then you might want to try and hunt some down. If you DO know what I’m talking about… right on! I used to feel lukewarm about strawberries because most of the strawberries I’ve eaten in my life have been store-bought and not especially outstanding. On occasion I’ve enjoyed U-pick strawberries, or happened upon the Oxnard strawberry festival in southern California, or purchased a flat from a farmer on the side of the road in California’s Central Valley after a weekend backpack trip in Kings Canyon. But these little gems, these will make you a lover… an obsessed lover.

i stalked several pints last week at the boulder farmer’s market

they are almost too pretty to eat… almost

Bite into this strawberry and it bleeds red, sweet, and fragrant. The insides aren’t white, but deep red. The berries are juicy instead of having that texture of packing materials. We ate plenty of them straight – my favorite way to enjoy a proper strawberry. I also saved out a few quarts for projects despite my strong urge to shovel them all down my gullet.

small as a dime with big big flavor

My friend, Marisa, who writes the phenomenal Food in Jars, has a new cookbook out that I couldn’t wait to get my hands on for over a year. It’s a book on canning, but in small batches, which is perfect for me. I received my review copy last month and I’ll do a canning recipe in another post, but one recipe was screaming to be made: strawberry syrup.

organic, unsprayed strawberries and sugar

hull and quarter (or halve if they are small) the berries

add water to the berries

**Jump for more butter**