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signs of summer

Thursday, June 2nd, 2011

Recipe: blood orange green tea slushie

For a girl who gushes about winter as much as I do, I must admit that I say “I can’t wait for summer!” a lot. Summer is a lovely concept: wildflowers, hiking and backpacking, cool evenings, mountain biking, summer produce, grilling, open windows, trail runs, hummingbirds, ice cold drinks, afternoon lightning storms, neighbor kids screaming and laughing on their trampoline. That’s because my brain has selectively forgotten about mosquitoes, sunburn, heat, the unrelenting sun, hordes of tourists, pine pollen, dusty trails, and tacky, greasy sunblock. Well, summer has arrived.


she can’t go as far anymore, but she still loves her hikes

and the aspens are finally starting to leaf

caught the tail end of the pasque flowers

a cluster of three

the ever-charming western wallflower



There are signs that usually cue me in to the arrival of summer like the first pasque flowers to bloom on our local trails or the yellow-green haze that develops on aspen stands as their leaves bud. We are typically out exploring and observing these changes throughout the month of May, but May got away from us for a number of reasons this year. Catching these visual signals sets my mind at ease as if Nature is on schedule and the routine resumes. But Nature isn’t on schedule. Spring is late in the mountains, hanging about on the couch like a guest who has overstayed their welcome. Now that Summer has arrived it must contend with the mess Spring left behind. It’s not such a bad mess though…

the intersection of spring and summer: the bike-ski



Spring left a lot of snow in the backcountry. A LOT of snow. I heard on my local public radio station that the Colorado snowpack is 254% of average. No kidding. As we rode to the trailhead with our skis on our packs, we passed 12-15 foot drifts of snow. A forest service ranger said we had a good thirty feet of snow sitting on the backcountry. Then he smiled at our skis and said, “Have fun!”

unpack the ski gear, stash the bikes

that’s what i’m talking about

jeremy ducking out of the wind

happy to have the ski boots off and a fast bike ride back



While I’m anxious to have the trails melt out for some good high-country hikes, I have to admit that I love the fact that there is so much snow. It’s like the best of both worlds because I can ski in short sleeves! More exhausting than the physical exertion is the sun exposure. That sun sucks the energy right out of me – or maybe it’s because I get cranky when I’m hot. The rest of the day, I crave cold beverages. My beverage of choice? Ice water. Next? Arnold Palmer (half lemonade, half iced tea). After that? Anything tea slushie with boba. I can dig a slushie year-round, but it is mandatory in summer.

how about a green tea slushie?

with raspberry and blood orange



**Jump for more butter**

feeling (sub)lime

Wednesday, March 16th, 2011

Recipe: lime sorbet

By the end of last week, I was a broken woman. My neck and right shoulder were inflamed as was my lower back. My good friend Advil and I worked through it as best we could, but when my aunt dropped me off at the Eldorado in Santa Fe Friday afternoon, I was barely able to walk. She urged me to make an appointment with the spa at the Eldorado to see if I could get some relief before the long car ride home.

I’m not a spa girl. Manis, pedis, facials, saunas, massages, waxing – it’s all foofie stuff to me. I had only had one real massage before… for an injury. Luckily, they had an opening and I winced with pleasure as my muscles crunched under the force of a deep tissue massage. The 7-hour car ride home negated that rather expensive massage by the next morning and I was in pain no matter what I did. After an appointment with a massage therapist (there are a lot of those in Boulder), heat, ice, exercise, stretches, and staying off the computer – I am finally feeling good. There is nothing like being sick or broken to make you appreciate how amazing it is to be normal. Just in time for my next road trip too!


it’s green food week



This week is St. Patrick’s Day. I like the color green. Half of my Patagonia jackets and tops are green (it’s the color that’s always on sale)! I also have a fascination with green food. However, I’m neither Irish nor do I drink beer – so you’re stuck with lime sorbet today.

zesty



**Jump for more butter**

p is for…

Sunday, February 27th, 2011

Recipe: pandan ice cream

[Today is the last day to get the early bird registration discount of $50 for the Food and Light food photography and styling workshop in Boulder, Colorado this summer. We are so looking forward to working with you!]

P is for party! In my case, a dosa party hosted by my favorite little blogger down the road, Manisha. She has ruined me, ruined me. I dare not set foot into an Indian restaurant lest I be disappointed that it’s not as good as Manisha’s cooking. [I’m sorry, I don’t have good photos of the dosas because I was too busy EATING them… Priorities, man.]


manisha tops the little papads (which i kept sneaking)

mango panna cotta with cardamom and pistachios



Did I mention that I love having friends who cook? It seems to be a problem that plagues many of my food blog friends who happen to be phenomenal cooks – none of their friends cook. Sure, people eat, but few people actually know and prepare their food at a fundamental level these days. I’m guessing this readership is in the minority when we consider our society of convenience and junk and corporate-mystery-crap-peddled-as-nourishment. But back to friends who cook… Just the other day I was having a pleasant catch-up with Lisa over breakfast and she bemoaned that all too familiar plight of the avid cook: no one invites you over for dinner. Foodies (I know some people hate that word – so call them food enthusiasts or whatever, I really don’t care) are always told “I can’t cook like you.” That’s not really the point. Both Lisa and I agreed that being invited over for take out pizza would be terrific because it’s about spending the time together, not going head to head to outdo or impress. At least, that’s not what my friendships are based on.

(from left to right) great cooks: kitt, manisha, birthday girl dana, and teri (not pictured: kathya)



I was lucky in grad school because I had two girlfriends who were great cooks and we took turns inviting each other (and partners) over for big bash meals – something to take your mind off the grind of research for an evening. I bond with people over food. My dad had a rule in our house: we all sat down to dinner together as a family and the television was turned OFF. And you know what? It was nice (except when the topic turned to SAT scores, college admissions, and why the heck I insisted on playing field hockey). It took a while, but after a couple of years in Colorado I have found a great gaggle of gal pals who love to cook and love to feed one another. We go to ethnic grocery stores together like fifth graders on a field trip. So it was a few weeks ago that Kathya and I were cruising around H-Mart in Denver.

p is also for pandan

defrosted



Truth be told, I didn’t know what pandan leaves were. I just knew that southeast Asian bloggers loved the stuff and made pretty green desserts with it. I held the bag in my hand… a mere two dollars or such. “What is it?” I asked Kathya. Her face melted into a big smile and she told me she loves the stuff and it’s a little nutty, a little floral. I put the packet in my cart thinking I would enlist the help of the interwebs later to figure out what to do with the leaves.

tie into a knot for ease of retrieval

milk, sugar, cream, and a pinch of salt

steep the leaves in the hot cream



Pandan is screwpine leaf and the flavor is nutty, floral, and a tad piny, if that makes sense. It’s subtle and lovely. I was always drawn to it because it’s green and I’m a sucker for green foods. What I learned was that the green color comes from pandan extract, which I didn’t have. So I chanced a visit to my local Asian grocer and found it. I picked up a bottle for myself and another for Kathya.

pandan extract



**Jump for more butter**