Coffee Cottage

The smell of fresh brewed coffee permeates the air as I open the door of a little red cottage and leave the lavender and garden behind me in pursuit of my favorite brew. The baristas smile at me as I once again look at the menu of specialty drinks taped to the counter top, and I try to pick something I haven't tried before. The soft music fills the air, and I look on the chalk board to see if there is a new quote of the day posted. The Coffee Cottage has become my third place these days as I transition from summer to school mode. And I am grateful, because I have learned so much from these people, this place, and the times I have spent at the coffee cottage.

 

It started on the week before my first year at University. I was enchanted by the place because it roasts its own beans, is a small town coffee house, and had the warm feel of home, complete with a wonderful menu that contains gluten free options. I would find myself coming to the Coffee Cottage when I needed a place to be that wasn't school or home, had some homework to do that I didn't want to be interrupted while completing, or just needed to take a break from life. This was the place that I met my best friend at University at, and the place where I reconnected with old friends in. It has become a second home for me.

 

So now, I shouldn't be surprised when I find it is a place I am learning wisdom from too. One of my dearest friends from high school got me started going to music at Coffee Cottage on Friday nights. I was too afraid to go to the shows by myself. Luke went with me a couple of times, and now I am hooked. I love to go listen to the local artists, even if I am the only one there. Something about the simplicity of the music always brings me back to focus. As I listen, I write or draw and am reminded of days gone by when the world was my playground and life was not so hard. The cares of the day seem to melt away as beauty and peace are restored to me. I am learning the wisdom of taking time out and just being present in the moment.

 

Another thing I am learning from all of this  time spent drinking coffee is that there is wisdom to be found behind the counter as well. The baristas at the cottage have done so much to cheer my soul and teach me that life is not as narrow as I make it out to be. I met one who had worked his way around the states and completed his college degree. When he found out I was a non-traditional student, he told me, "You are not alone." Those four words have set the tone for this year for me. I am looking around and instead of seeing how so many people are different from me, I am starting to see how we're the same. Another always smiles at me and makes me laugh. Today, when I went into the Cottage on my break at work with a co-worker to caffeinate the kitchen where we are employed (we bought seven drinks total), one of the baristas told me she works doubles every weekend and is excited to go back to school soon. She asked if I thought she was crazy, and I just laughed and said I knew how it was. Because I do. We do what we have to do right now to get by. Somehow, this little place that I call my living room has done more to let me know that I am in the same boat as so many others than anything else in this town.

 

Finally, sitting down with friends over a cup of coffee (or tea, or a smoothie) has helped me to connect with what I am learning both in and out of the classroom. I conducted my first interview for a class last spring with my friend, Ogie. He told me how in management, you have to make your team your family. I conducted my most recent interview for another management course with Jessica. She talked about what had led her to become a leader on campus. And then, there is running into old friends at music, like Friday night, when I saw my dear friend Laura for the first time in a month and got to sit and talk with her and just be a silly girl. Maybe what builds community is not so much what is said, but the feeling of good that is given when each one of us shares something genuine and unique, our own essence, what no one else has to give.

 

The Coffee Cottage to me is a place that I can let my hair down and experience life. I don't have to be or do or behave a certain way. It is the closest thing I have to my own here. I don't know why I feel this way about it. I do have my own (insert item here) after all. But something about the place feels like home to me. Maybe it is the fact that people gather just to share, to believe in the power of connection, and to live life together. The coffee is amazing, don't get me wrong. I am at the point of brewing it every morning as my morning wake up call. But the place, the place is truly a gift to the community of Newberg. It's a gift I don't take for granted and am thankful for every time I step through the doors and smell the coffee. 

Chocolate Chip Cookies and Classes...

Well, it's official. I have clearly gone off the deep end in food land. I woke up yesterday morning at 4:30am totally awake and ready for the day, and instead of reading to go back to sleep or doing a ton of homework, the first thing I decide to do is go to the grocery store so I can make chocolate chip cookies for my friends. Yes, I have crossed the line into food insanity!
The second week of school had some serious hiccups for me. I missed an assignment in one of my classes, I was sent home sick from work because of stress, and I missed a class because I forgot what time it was at, even though I wrote it down in my phone. All this to say, there has been some serious reevaluating of my life going on. The evidence is clear: I have had my priorities messed up, and it's starting to effect all the areas of my life.
So, while I was making cookies for my friends out of Gharideli dark chocolate chips (If you want the recipe, check the back of the bag and substitute one cup of coconut for the optional cup of nuts. This post is more story, less recipe, but it's worth the trip to the store for the chocolate chips.), I came to the conclusion that the reason I have been having such a rough go of it lately is not because of a lack of things to do, fun times to be had, or people in my life. No, the real reason is that I was made to be a giver. Over the summer, I got burned a few times from giving. But the times when I do give and it is received well, those are the best times of my life. I get love the most by giving love.
I also realized that I need to slow down. I cannot give my life to others or have any time for myself if I am constantly racing off to the next task (thank you, Mom, for pointing this one out so eloquently to me and Rose for expressing your concern in the first place). Part of loving others and self is the ability to be, to rest, to abide. If it's one task after another, there is no time for that rest. So, some sacrifices are going to have to be made, but in the end, I think it will be worth it.
I am thirsty for life to the full. I crave to know heaven. This whole crazy cooking business started with me asking God what cookies taste like in heaven. I don't believe that there is supposed to be a dividing wall between heaven and earth, otherwise, why would Jesus have prayed, "Your kingdom come your will be done on earth as it is in heaven?" I know that I miss this goal so often. I try not to drag myself through the mud for it, try to lift my gaze. I'm not perfect, but I don't think that's what heaven's about. I think it has more to do with right relationship and less to do with perfection than we make it out to be.
This week has been about right relationships, about finding out what it means to be not so alone, and about loving myself enough to say no. Chocolate chip cookies always say, "Welcome Home," to me. I finally feel that about Fox. This is my home now, for the next year any how, and I intend to spread as much love and heaven as I can while I am here. I just don't know exactly how yet. So have a cookie, and enjoy your classes. I know I will.

My Oregon

Hi, again!

I have been busy this summer having some amazing adventures throughout the Willamette Valley. As a result, I have sorely neglected my blog. OOPS! I have all of these pictures that I took with the intent of sharing them here with you, and I just totally have not taken the time to sit down and write. So, I will be adding three new blog posts here in rapid fire succession in order to get current and share all these amazing adventures with you. I hope you don't mind too much.

One of my favorite things to do is learn something new. I love to seek truth and wisdom from all areas of life. Growing up, I learned a lot about the Oregon Trail because Oregon is where I hail from. The people of Oregon voted to decide if they wanted to be a part of the USA or not, and the decision was pretty close to split down the middle. The for's won in the end, but the place where it all took place, Champoeg, is located a mere six miles from where I live. I couldn't believe it. It was a beautiful July day, and I decided to hop on my bike and close the six mile between me and Champoeg State Park. And I'm so glad I did.

When I arrived at the park, I found a replica of a pioneer kitchen garden. Early pioneers grew much of their food in the rich farmlands that the Willamette Valley is famous for. The kitchen garden supplied a dependable source of food and was vital to the home economics of the day. The replica garden was very beautiful, full of life and birds! I had such a wonderful time wandering through it.

To give you an idea of what a pioneer garden looks like, I took some pictures.

I have been doing organic gardening this year in the community garden I am a part of, and it was interesting for me to note that the techniques I have been learning to use are not so new after all. Organic gardening is the way things were done before we had pesticides, before we had mass production of products and an accessible food supply. When families relied on what they could grow and the work of their own two hands in order to stay alive, it was organic farming that they used. Life was hard, but a lot simpler too. I sometimes question the sanity of our pace of life and our blindness toward where food comes from and what it goes through before it gets to us. Wandering through this historical site's garden made me realize that good things don't happen on accident. Everything grows in its season according to its type and with the proper care. I think people are a lot that way too. Maybe we've done ourselves a disservice by making our food sources so impersonal. In a way, we no longer know how to care for each other because we've failed to learn the lessons of cultivation from the earth. Just a musing...

Beauty and hardship seem to be inherently intertwined in Oregon. I think it's not just here though. When I got done wandering the garden, I went into cultural visiting center. They had a painting that a man devoted his life to of the event of Oregon becoming a state. The painter did a whole lot of research on the painting, spent his lifetime working on it on site working as a groundskeeper while painting. He ended up basically broke, never seeing his masterpiece sell. And now, it's on display at the State Park, along with his amazing story. I was caught by how much vision and strength of purpose he had to devote his life to a single act of greatness. His story touched my heart because I think we all want to be great and to be recognized for that greatness. Sometimes we get to experience the recognition in our lifetimes, and for some souls, the recognition comes after they are gone. I don't know if it is better to live in people's hearts while we are here or in their minds forever. I'm not sure which I would chose. Regardless, I think we should not withhold our very best from others. Here's a picture of the artist's best.

When I finished looking at the painting, I hit the trails the state park is known for and found a shady spot to eat my picnic lunch at. I enjoyed it so much. I live right by a busy highway, and the noise sometimes gets to me. Well, it was really nice to sit in the "silence" of nature. But I wouldn't exactly call it silence. It's more like a symphony of wild and unrestrained sound. I really enjoyed just relaxing in the summer heat and blowing bubbles into the branches of the trees.

And when I got done with all that and headed back, my back tire blew out on my bike and I limped it two miles down the road to a crossroads. My roommate picked me up half hour later, and I was left to muse on the beauty and hardship of Oregon. Adventure is never what we expect it will be. But the moments of pure joy mixed with the struggle are what make it worthwhile. I wouldn't have traded my trip to Champoeg for anything, not even a full tire. The beauty and the pain both let us know that we are alive and that we have so much to offer, to give, to love, and to strive for. This is my Oregon.

The week in review...

I've decided that I don't have a particular style of post. I am forever apologizing to you, my dear readers, for how unconventional I am being. This week has been especially crazy for me even in the midst of the restful days I've had off of work. I really want to talk about it, and writing always seems to help. So here's a bit of what has happened this week. All of it is food related in some way (or maybe I can just make everything about food...you decide).

The first thing that happened this week was a baby bird flew into the bushes by our house, causing the upstairs tennant to have a small heart attack (figuratively...everyone is out of the hospital, it's ok, nobody went to the hospital in the first place...relax!). So, bird was retrieved from the bushes and caged in a small box outside. It looked like this.

So, we (as in me and my house mates and visitors) researched baby starlings and their care, and found out that it needed catfood and a heating pad and gateraide to survive. So, I procured said items, and got an old shoe box and towel for the bird to nest in and made it a new little home. It even let me feed it with a straw! What an awesome experience! 

Pretty stinking cute! If that doesn't melt your heart, I don't know what will. So, I had an overnight guest in my room. But the problem was, he or she kept trying to fly away. It was at that point that I considered the possibility of the bird being a fledgling. And it was then I knew I had to let it go. A bird should not be caged if it is trying to learn to fly. It has to fly or die trying because it is a bird and a bird without flight is like a person without a heart. It can live, but the existance is pretty pointless.

The next day, after I let the bird go, I finished my book, The Secret Life of Bees by Susan Monk Kidd. It was a really good read for me. Not only did the story revolve around three sisters who kept bees for their honey (how can a story about honey ever be wrong?), but also talked about racism, forgiving yourself and others for past and present wrongs, and dealt with the fallout from abuse. I didn't cry, but maybe that was because I was too much in awe of the Mexican food that helped me polish off the book.

If you are EVER in Newberg, you have to eat the Mexican food that the locals call the best in town. And it doesn't come from one of the three restaurants that line the strip of downtown. No, my friend, it comes from a taco truck. GLORIOUS! That's all I have to say! Here's a picture so you'll know you found the right place.

And in case you are wondering, this place is called Pastorcillos Tacos. I can't give you the phone number, but you can look it up on google. You found me; you can find them if you want them bad enough. They're that good!

What makes them so amazing? Aside from tacos for $1.50, they have an assortment of combination platters that are simply phenominal. Everything is warm, fresh, and delicious. Oh, and I ordered the torta with chicken. I was in HEAVEN, and eating it so fast, I got half way through before I remembered to take a picture so I could show you what I mean by amazing food. Here's what amazing food looks like in Newberg.

You're jealous now, aren't you? That little baby had beans, avacado, sourcream, jalepenos, lettuce, chicken, and rice all on a soft white bread with a sauce that would make the Lord Jesus glad he created the earth (ok, maybe I need to stop reading Southern novels for a bit and act like the Northwest girl that I am). But you get the picture. It was incredible. Emphasis on the EDIBLE.

Well, inspired by that meal, I have been cooking Spanish food all week. I made chicken empanadas for my sister when we had lunch together, and for the weekly potluck I share with my fellow gardeners after we have taken care of the community planting and weeding, I made a Spanish Tortilla. It's a really easy dish to make, just takes a little bit of time and effort is all. The group liked it so well, they asked for the recipe, which I obligied by sharing this link. You want to know what you'll be getting yourself into with this one? Check out the picture below. This is the view from my frying pan, anyway.

As we were enjoying the view of the garden and eating, one of the gardeners asked, "What's one thing you've learned this week?" I couldn't think of anything at the time, but now, my brain is on overload just thinking about everything I have learned. I learned how to feed a baby bird. I learned to let that baby go and fly. I learned that sometimes, we need to forgive ourselves more than anyone else in the world. I learned that there are some amazing jewels hidden in Newberg just waiting for me to enjoy them, that sisters are great friends even if it's hard, and that I have something unique and valuable to offer my community. Most importantly, I learned that being myself, even if it is a little too much or over the top at times, is worth it. I'd rather be loved for me than for what I pretended to be. So here's to a great week of learning, growing, cooking, eating, caring, and letting go. I can't wait to see what the next adventure will be.

Oh, and the garden looks spectacular by the way! I brought home lettuce and a smile from my gardening night. So much fun. Eden looks like this.

 Until next time, happy eating!

Feed me Belly!

Last Thursday was a very sentimental day for me. My friend Christopher Lee Hanson went to be with the Lord eight years ago by the hand of my ex-boyfriend on that day. While the tragedy of it all has shaped who I am, I felt like celebrating his life on that day. He dreamed of receiving a bass guitar made of pure light when he got to heaven, and wanted to protect me from the damage my ex had been causing in my life. It's funny, because it's taken me all this time to really start letting go of him, the past, and some bad mindsets that have been destructive to me. But, I digress. Chris was from Eugene and a street kid. So, as fate, coincidence, or God would have it, eight years to the day, I found myself conversing with a street kid in Eugene. And then my friends and I went to eat at Belly, a restaurant in Eugene.

Belly is well known in Eugene. It has won best restaurant twice. I ate way too much food with way too many calories for my small body, but I enjoyed the wait staff, the food, and the atmosphere in general. It was a charming place, and my one unfulfilled desire from the experience was simply that I wanted to see the back of the house. But then again, I am obsessed with kitchens!

So, to start out my meal, I ordered a beautiful Oakshire Espresso Stout. I have one rule on beer and only one: go dark or go home! Being a coffee lover as well, this stout won me over at first sip. Cool, refreshing, dark, mysterious, and coffee? Yes, please! I was thrilled with the quality of this particular drink. I highly recommend it if you enjoy your beer with a bit more intrigue than most.

Next, I went with bacon. (This was probably a HUGE mistake as far as my body was concerned. I have to be careful about how much fat I consume or my body pretty much takes me down for a day or two. But I threw caution to the wind and just went for it. It was worth it.) But not just any bacon. This beauty is bacon wrapped manchego stuffed dates with hazelnuts and apple cider gastrique. OMG! Sweet, salty, creamy, sour, crunchy: this is the place to be. As far as I'm concerned, this is a culinary masterpiece not to be missed. SO GOOD! Perfect little bites of culinary perfection like this don't come around often. I tip my hat to whomever dreamed this bacon love child up. Thank you!

To keep with the dark, warm, pub food theme of my night, I chose the shepherd's pie made with lamb, peas, carrots, and mashed potatoes. When it got to the table, it was steaming hot. Wow! I really liked it. There were huge chunks of lamb under wonderfully creamy mashed potatoes. This is not a saucy dish, but it is wonderfully filling, and incredibly comforting. A great take on the traditional shepherd's pie. I liked it so much, I ate the whole thing!

Finally, dessert time came. And I was intrigued that the only selection on the menu with chocolate was a lavender cake with pistachios and salt sprinkled over it. The balance of flavors tickled my palet and delighted me in general. But I had stuffed myself so completely that I could not finish it. The wait staff graciously accommodated me by adding more chocolate sauce than I needed, and I was stuffed before I realized that I had forgotten to take a picture of this delicate little dessert. It was that good.

So, if you are in Eugene and looking for a place to dine, I highly recommend that you try Belly. They have lighter dishes too, but I was just in the mood for comfort food. As I ate, I thought of Chris and his bass of pure light, of the table of love that is my portion every day of my life, and of the joy that is ahead of me. There is so much to be thankful for in this life. Eat it up, and be grateful.

Until next time, happy eating!

Fava Beans!

So, this is an unusual blog entry because I haven't actually cooked anything yet. But I learned something really interesting that I thought I'd like to share with you, and maybe you can use that knowledge to cook something delicious and share your witty and insightful recipe with me. ;)

On Thursday, I went to pick up my usual haul from the CSA I am a part of, and they had these great big beautiful beans. When I asked what exactly I was looking at, Emily (the staff member who was manning the pick up sight that day) said they were fava beans. She said I could saute them in butter or make a paste from them and use them as a spread. I grabbed as many as I could without appearing greedy (ok, maybe I looked a little greedy...a girl's got to do what a girl's got to do) and proceeded home with my new found beany friend. They look like this.

From the Oakhill Organics Newsletter, Week 19, May 29 & 31, 2012: Fava beans are another less common, but delicious, spring vegetable. These have been growing in our fields since we planted them last fall. They grow slowly all winter and then blossom and set fruit once it's warm enough in the spring.

Now, I had an interesting task to complete. Dear friends, most of us would rather that someone else deal with nature when it comes to our food. I am just as guilty as anyone else is. This week, in an effort to avoid grocery shopping, I found myself eating out, just not cooking, and eating the cafeteria food at work even though I know that the food I make for myself generally is healthier and tastes a heck of a lot better than all of that.

Know that if you get yourself involved with a fava bean, it's a long term relationship. Fava beans have layers of things to deal with before you get to partake in the prize that they are. You can take the process in stages, or you can buckle down like I did and complete the task start to finish all at once. My small stash of beans took me 40 minutes to process. I might get two servings out of the deal. But all of that time and effort burns calories, helps me to learn about the food I am eating, and teaches me things about life and myself. Namely, good things in life take time, are full of surprises, and aren't exactly what I think they should be. But if I can let go of my expectations and embrace what I have in front of me for what it is, then I will enjoy it so much more.

So, how do we get to the bean in fava bean? Well, first you have to remove the bean from the pod. It's easiest to crack the top and then pop the beans out of one side or the other. The inside of the pod has this white protective "bubble wrap" like layer to keep the beans happy and healthy. The inside of the pod looks like this.

This was an enlightening process. Anyone who has seen a fava bean knows how big the pods are. Some of them were close to ten inches long. However, the most beans I found in any one pod was 6. Six little beans! Can you believe it! I was shocked! When I was all done with taking the beans from their podded homes, they looked like this.

Now, fava beans are supposed to have a beautiful bright green color. Well, these are kind of dull and shiny. Pretty, but not the famed bright green I am after. In order to get to the edible part of the bean, there were two more steps in the process. The first involved parboiling these babies.

To parboil something, you must heat water to the point just before simmering. You start to see little bubbles form around the edges and lift ever so subtly to the surface. Then you add your beans. Keep the water temperature at this point. When I added my beans, every last one of them was floating on the surface of the water. As I watched them cook for the few minutes it takes to complete this process, I noticed that they all clustered together, and then one by one, started to sink in the water. When about half of them had done this, I removed them and shocked them in cold water to keep them from cooking more. I didn't really want to cook the beans, just remove the tough outer layer to get to the good stuff. Life lesson number two, sometimes you have to apply heat in order to crack the tough stuff of life.

After parboiling, I popped the beans out of their exterior protective layer one at a time. It was easiest to squeeze the top or bottom off of the bean and then squeeze the other end. Out came the beans. And when I was all done, I had two piles: one of shiny dull husks and the other of beautiful bright green beans.

Like I said, not a whole lot of yield on these babies. I followed the first rule of cooking (taste everything) and found that the bean has a nutty, sweet flavor. Definitely good for experimenting with. I think I am going to saute mine with garlic and butter one of these nights and stop being lazy about cooking.

Life is a journey, a process, and so is food. Good food, the kind that tastes good and is good for you, takes time to grow, process, and prepare. The wait is good for us, helps us to appreciate what we have, and actually helps our bodies to take in and utilize what we consume. So, if you're looking for a special spring treat, look no further than the fava bean. Just remember, slow down. Enjoy the journey.

Until next time, happy eating!



Dressing

She's named after food and lives where I work as a pantry cook.  And yesterday, with her compliment to the chef and request for a recipe, she made me feel like a celebrity chef today. She asked for the vinaigrette recipe that I made for Mother's Day.

It was a simple vinaigrette. I jazzed it up a bit because we were out of a particular kind of mustard that goes into all of our vinaigrette and mixed oils because I wanted a hint of the olive oil flavor without the overpowering effect that can often be bestowed by having too much of that kind of oil in a vinaigrette, but still, I stuck to the code. 1 part vinegar to 3 parts oil. Really simple, yet she liked it. So, when I went out in the dinning room to talk to her about cooking and instruct her on how to put together this recipe, I thought of you, dear blog reader, and I smiled inside.

If the food is good enough to eat and ask for a recipe afterwords, if I can teach someone something new about my beloved art form, the craft of beautiful food, then all the hours spent in isolation are somehow worthwhile. The majority of my time is spent chopping vegetables and placing cold foods into containers. Yet the joy that one person gets out of something in one of those containers can make me feel like a super star. I did that! Yes, it was me that made your taste buds sing for joy. I like the feeling more than I can say. It makes standing on my feet for 8 hours in a hot kitchen risking being bitten by sharp objects suddenly seem like the most rational use of time.

So, for those of you wanting the recipe, here it is. And, I will explain what I told her, the woman named for food, about this particular operation.

Red Wine Vinaigrette

1/2 teaspoon stone ground mustard
1/2 cup sugar
1/2 cup red wine vinegar
1/2 cup olive oil
1 cup canola oil
salt and pepper to taste

In a blender, combine first three ingredients. With blender running, slowly add the oils until you hear the motor of the blender tighten. More or less may be needed depending on the emulsification. Add salt and pepper to taste. You may want to add more or less sugar. The trick is to taste it and see what you think. Also, the mustard is the emulsifying agent. It will make the vinegar and oil stick together instead of separating. Finally, you can change the recipe by using a different type of mustard, substituting lemon, white wine vinegar and poppy seeds for the red wine vinegar to come up with a lemon poppy seed vinaigrette. If you would prefer to have a white color to your vinaigrette  (in the lemon poppy seed case) add a 1/2 teaspoon or so of egg whites with the oil. It will astound you.