It’s all I can do not to just drop everything and turn this into a gardening blog. Maybe a gardening blog with cookies, and cocktails? I jest. But in all seriousness, thank you all so much for your generous comments and advice about planting and gardening. I wish I had you in my back pocket at all times, but you’ve given me a lot to work with and much inspiration. In fact, today’s recipe is made with fresh herbs from the backyard! It’s been unusually warm in Seattle this week, so everything’s growing like crazy and quite thirsty. I learned a valuable lesson: if you take off on the ferry to Vashon Island on a very sunny day to visit a most lovely couple in their new home, eat the best quinoa you may have ever tasted, and forget to water your plants, you will come home to sad basil. This is, apparently, a fact. I’m learning slowly. Also a fact: playing hookie on an island is sometimes just what the doctor ordered. I’ve been thinking a lot about creativity lately and how to make more space for it in the constant to-do lists of my (I assume our) daily lives. I often feel guilty if I take moments to focus on a non-work related project, but I read something recently that led me to believe taking time out of our day to chop some herbs, knead some dough, and wait for it to rise might just be what we all need more of.
Before we get to foccacia and creativity, some of you suggested that I share a few photos every now and then chronicling how things are going in the garden, and I love that idea. I think we should start small. With herbs: thyme, basil, rosemary, mint and parsley. The cilantro is hiding under the table. It may not make it.
Sam and I decided to take the day off of work on Friday because sometimes you need to do that. It was my first time on Vashon and, as is the case with many people, I became quite smitten with the sweet little downtown, the big grassy plots of land, and the small winding roads. And the best part: I forced myself not to feel guilty about taking a Friday off to do not much of anything on my to-do list. I’ve been reading Imagine by Jonah Lehrer and it has me thinking about the way in which a mental break and space is so important in driving creativity and inspiration. When we work, work, work and stare at the computer waiting for inspiration to strike — it likely won’t. Or it’ll make a most slow and painfully circuitous arrival.
If you’re unfamiliar with Imagine, it’s an exploration of the science of creativity and how it’s not necessarily a gift that some have, but something we can all work at and learn. There’s that word “work” again. But hold on: many of Lehrer’s suggestions on how to work at this involve taking time to go on a long walk, learning how to daydream productively, and traveling (if your life allows it) — even just for a few hours to a nearby town.
One of my favorite lines from the book is when Lehrer says, “There is something scary about letting ourselves go. It means that we will screw up, that we will relinquish the possibility of perfection. It means that we will say things we didn’t mean to say and express feelings we can’t explain. It means that we will be onstage and not have complete control, that we won’t know what we’re going to play until we begin, until the bow is drawn across the strings. While this spontaneous method might be frightening, it’s also an extremely valuable source of creativity…the lesson about letting go is that we contain our own creativity. We are so worried about playing the wrong note or saying the wrong thing that we end up with nothing at all.” As an adamant planner and list-follower, I can attest that this is true. I think I can be my worst enemy when it comes to creativity, containing it at many junctures and corners.
There’s a certain amount of fear in moving away from the lists and the scripts. That’s where the routine and comfort lives, but also, according to Lehrer, where creativity most decidedly doesn’t live. I’m sure you can relate to laying on the beach somewhere with little agenda or walking aimlessly around your neighborhood and having idea after idea bounce around unhindered. Whether it’s new business ideas or writing topics or inspiration for how to decorate a room in your house: that’s the fruit of this letting go. And that moment when you’re laying on the beach or taking that walk, you’re literally making space for those thoughts to wander in. Imagine is all about actively taking a role in the birth of more creativity. I like this idea.
So yesterday while there were many, many things that needed tending to I woke up strangely early and decided that it was time to make this pretty spring foccacia I’d been thinking about. No computer, no emails, a sleeping Sam, a coffee maker gurgling away, and dough rising. During this time, did I come up with an idea for a new invention? Nope. But I did make some spaciousness in the morning that made the rest of the day much easier. A self-enforced time out. Allow yourself to try it this week. Rising dough optional.
A few things about the recipe: it is from Canal House vol. 3 which boasts many pretty spring recipes (remember the watercress soup from earlier this year?). I altered the recipe a little, using a bit of whole wheat flour instead of all bread flour and adding more herbs. The result is a most satisfying bite of chewy crust, thinly sliced tart lemon, a smattering of fresh herbs, a healthy splash of olive oil, and an even healthier sprinkling of coarse salt. While I planned on having it for lunch with a green salad, we left it out on the kitchen table and both cut off little pieces throughout the day whenever we walked by.
Because this recipe essentially makes 4 rounds, I froze two sections of the dough to use later. If you go this route, you’ll obviously want to cut the topping quantities in half (only 1 lemon etc.) For the herbs, use whatever you like and have fresh on hand; I loved the combination of fresh thyme and rosemary although I think dill and chives could be really nice, too. And if you have a mandolin to slice the lemons, this is the best way to get them super thin.
Adapted from Canal House, vol. 3
For the dough, dissolve the yeast in 1/2 cup warm water in a medium bowl. Stir in 1 1/4 cups water and 2 tablespoons of the olive oil. Pulse the flour and salt together in the bowl of a food processor. Add the yeast mixture and process until a rough ball forms, about 1 minute. Briefly knead dough on a floured surface until smooth. Shape dough into a ball.
Put 2 tablespoons of the oil into a large bowl. Roll dough around in the bowl until coated with oil. Cover the bowl with plastic wrap and let the dough rise in a warm spot until it has doubled in size, about two hours.
Pour a thin film of oil into each of four 8-inch round cake pans. Quarter the dough and put one piece in each pan (if you’re making two rounds as we did, only oil two pans and wrap two quarters in plastic wrap and freeze). Using your fingertips, spread dough out in each pan. The dough is elastic and will resist stretching. Let it rest for 5 minutes or so after you’ve stretched it as far as it will go. Eventually it will cooperate and fill the pan.
Preheat the oven to 450 F. Cover the pans with damp dishcloths and let the dough rest until it has swollen in the pans a little, 30-60 minutes. Uncover the pans, sprinkle the dough the your herbs.
Using your fingertips, poke dimples into the dough in each pan, then drizzle with oil so it pools into the little crevices. Arrange the thinnest rounds of lemon on top, drizzle with more oil, and sprinkle generously with sea salt.
Bake for 20-28 minutes. Drizzle with more oil when you pull it from the oven.
*You could also make in your stand mixer if you don’t have a food processor. I did the dough in my food processor and was a little worried because it was brimming almost to the top with flour but it turned out just fine. I don’t see any reason why could couldn’t just mix it up by hand the old-fashioned way, too. I’ll likely try this next time.
On Monday our little family of three is headed to the airport at 6 am to board our first with-baby cross-country trip. We'll be visiting Sam's family in New Jersey for a few days, then renting a car and driving over to meet up with my family at my mom's lake house in the Adirondacks. Sam's younger sister and her kids have yet to meet Oliver; my grandpa has yet to meet him, and Oliver has yet to take a dunk in a lake, see a firefly, or spend quality time with energetic dogs -- of which there will be three. A lot of firsts. This week my family has been madly texting, volunteering to make certain meals or sweets on assigned days while we're at the cabin and it got me thinking about really simple, effortless summer desserts -- in particular, ones that you can make while staying in a house with an unfamiliar kitchen and unfamiliar equipment and still do a pretty bang-up job. I think fruit crisp is just that thing.
This past week we've had quite a heat wave in Seattle. I've been getting into the bakery early in the mornings so as to avoid the afternoon heat + hot oven combination, and it turns out the upstairs of our new house is quite a little hot box. I bought some aggressive blinds and a new fan and am hoping both will help cool things down a bit. The wool blanket is in the linen closet for the season, and Sam's been making iced tea like it's his job. Summer has arrived! A few nights ago, the thought of actually doing much real cooking seemed a bit overwhelming, so I figured it was time to dig out the ice cream maker and get to work. I'd wanted to do something with the beautiful strawberries we have in the markets right now, but it seems every time I get a little pint it's gone before I have the chance. They are just so incredibly sweet, and it seems a shame to do anything other than eat them right out of the container, preferably while sitting on the Moroccan picnic blanket you brought back from honeymoon on the lawn in your new backyard trying not to stress out about the incredible, insurmountable number of weeds. So. Many. Weeds. But cherries: somehow the bag of cherries made it safely through the weekend, so I set about to find a great cherry ice cream recipe.
When you have an eight month old baby, making social plans can be hard. Especially in the evenings. When I was pregnant, I read Bringing up Bebe and one of the big premises of the book is how the French feel strongly that babies and children can fit into your lives and that you shouldn't have to change and alter everything to accommodate them. I remember reading the book and thinking: YES! Life will be just as it was, except we'll have a small baby in tow. Obviously a few things would likely be different, but I didn't want to change our routines, change the way we cooked or approached time off together, or see our friends any less. Well of course I'm the fool. Or at the very least, I'm not as French as I thought I was. Today, we very much schedule things around Oliver's nap schedule and bedtime, but thankfully we have a lot of other friends with kids who get it. Friends who make homemade cookies, own ice cream businesses, and have really great taste in music. Friends who host the kind of occasion that warrants homemade hot fudge sauce and eating dessert first.
We're back! After a restful few days in Lake George, I ended up flying home while Sam spent a little time with his family in New Jersey and a few days in New York City by himself before taking the train all the way back to Seattle (a solid four day journey). If you know Sam, this isn't surprising; he loves trains. When he's gone, I quickly revert back to my single gal days of eating veggie quesadillas for dinner (over and over) and staying up working later than I'd like. We would talk on the phone often as Sam would narrate his very full days in New York City and the stops and layovers he had while on the train. After a few days of me lamenting the fact that I wasn't there to experience it all with him, he encouraged me to ditch the quesadillas and do something special for dinner. See a movie. Go to the museum for just an hour. In short: I needed to get better at dating myself.
I received The Sprouted Kitchen Bowl + Spoon cookbook in the mail not long before we moved to our new house, and I remember lying in bed and bookmarking pages I was excited to try but also feeling overwhelmed with where to start: the truth is that this summer has been a relatively low-inspiration / low energy time in the kitchen for me. I'd been chalking it up to pregnancy but when I think back and if I'm honest with myself, my cooking style tends to be very easy and produce-driven during these warmer months. I rarely break out complicated recipes, instead relying on fresh tomatoes and corn or zucchini and homemade pesto to guide me. But last night I cracked open Sara's book and pulled out a few peaches I've had sitting on the counter, fearing their season may be nearing its end. This morning as I was making coffee, I sliced up the peaches, toasted the pecans and churned away -- having a bite (or maybe two) before getting it into the freezer to firm up.