Today's Bread

 [what I had for breakfast today: the company of a lovely friend and her magical baby and Kamal, who "read" the baby a book; griddled soda bread with ricotta, farmer's cheese, sauteed beet greens and an over-easy egg.]

I've been loving making this sunflower seed bread from the King Arthur website. I've made just a few adjustments--using part whole-wheat flour, increasing the salt very slightly, and using molasses instead of sugar because both Kamal and I are crazy about the flavor of molasses in our breads. 

Oh, and I doubled the recipe, too. Not only because the bread is so delicious you'll regret only making one loaf the moment you take the first bite, but also because this bread freezes well and makes the BEST toast. 

2 and 2/3 cup white flour
1 1/3 cup whole wheat flour
1 cup rolled oats
1 cup sunflower seeds
2 tablespoons sesame seeds
4 tablespoons chia seeds (or you could do 6 tablespoons of sesame seeds; I like doing half black sesame seeds and half white)
4 tablespoons olive oil
2 tablespoons molasses
2 tablespoons honey
3 teaspoons Kosher salt
4 teaspoons instant yeast
2 cups warm water (should feel like comfortable bath temperature)

Mix all ingredients (with either a wooden spoon or an electric mixer on low speed) till cohesive and coming off the sides of the bowl. Let sit five minutes. Then oil your hands and knead (or mix in mixer) five to ten minutes, just until the when you gently poke the dough, it feels like the adhesive on a post-it note when you touch it--like it starts to stick to you but lets go really easily without leaving any residue. 

Lightly oil a big clean bowl and a sheet of plastic wrap. Put the dough in the bowl and cover with the wrap. Let rise till puffy. It's taken about 90 minutes in my kitchen on these cool February days. 

Grease (I use coconut oil, and it works perfectly) two glass loaf pans. Divide dough into two equal portions--a scale is helpful for this step. Gently pat each piece of dough into a log that fits in the loaf pan. Bake at 325 degrees F till golden brown and an thermometer inserted into the center of the loaf reads 190 degrees F or higher. 

Enjoy! 

the plan: healthy and happy

[what i had for breakfast today: hard-boiled egg,  jasmine rice, beet greens, sriracha]

I look forward to going to work every day, and then I look forward every day to going home to Adam and Kamal. So if you see a somebody grinning like a fool as she cycles east in the morning and west in the evening, that's me. I know I'm lucky. I'm grateful. And I want this kind of happiness to feel reachable to everyone.

Here's what we all have in common: limited time in this life. Limited chances to enjoy the pleasures of being a human being on this good earth, a finite number of deep and joyful breaths. My goal is to make the most of each moment, and to help you do the same thing. 

I've been writing about my philosophy of Healthy Hedonism on Tumblr. Here's a link to a post that introduces the concept, in case you're curious about how easy just feeling good can be. 

Picnic

 [what i had for breakfast today: just like yesterday, a scrambled egg and beet greens with a jasmine rice--but today I poured a cup of miso soup over it all.]

Today Kamal and I had an unexpected day off, and we took the opportunity to have a picnic in a forest, because what could be better? 

It was grand. 

A note--if you've never made fresh cheese, it's so easy you will not believe it. Here's a terrific tutorial from Serious Eats, a blog that's become an important resource to our kitchen. If, like us, you don't have a microwave, just heat the milk to the indicated temperature on your stove in a heavy-bottomed pot, stirring frequently to prevent the milk burning or boiling over.

Adjusting expectations

[what i had for breakfast today: pan-fried jasmine rice with sauteed beet greens and fresh egg] 

So we had a fun-filled morning planned--going go the garden store to check out bare-root stock on Superbowl Sunday has become tradition for our family, because it's the least crowded day there of the entire bare-root season (um, in case you didn't already know, we are dorks). Kamal woke us up at FIVE. AM. and I got up almost cheerfully because of how much I look forward to this day. The possibility! The sheer number of varieties of mulberries, sour cherries, peaches. The frantic surreptitious Googling on our  phones of the that one variety of blood orange that we've never heard of but looks so beautiful in the picture on the tab. The pollination question. And just last year, Kamal's little voice squeaking in, every time we read a fruit name aloud: "I yike dat one!"

So I was fixing breakfast for Kamal, all expectant and happy, when Adam found out he has to go in to the office.

And I was so bummed. I knew Adam didn't want to go in either, and I was bummed for him. But mostly, selfishly, I was bummed for me, for what felt like a huge letdown of my glowy expectations.

I dealt with it. I sat down with my coffee and breakfast, next to my charming son, and then read him a book, let him play a quick counting game on my tablet while I got in a few minutes of writing (he rested his little hand on my wrist the whole time and nodded emphatically when I mused, "We're both working really hard, aren't we?"), got him dressed, brought him outside, played a little baseball with him, and transplanted, with his help, a bunch of echinachea seedlings in the greenhouse. In other words, we had a great time. Then Adam came home from work, we were all happy, Kamal asked for a banana, and as he started in on one, it broke in half--and he cried. So hard.

He wanted a new banana, but I couldn't justify it. Not just because of the relatively enormous carbon footprint of a banana purchased and consumed in Northern California, but because it's important that he learn to deal with things not going as planned. 

And I realized his disappointment and mine were not very different at all. We both had an expectation of an experience; we both had to cope with those experiences being different from out expectations. And two incredibly sweet things came from that broken banana--one, he cried himself into a nice, deep nap in my arms, where he lay flushed and dreaming for two solid hours, and two, when he woke up, Adam presented him with a banana-and-clementine fruit salad, which he ate with relish while reading a favorite book.

As for me and my shifted expectations, my lesson is learned. Kamal and I had a beautiful morning, and we all made it to the garden store fifteen minutes before they closed. And then we went home and shoveled compost, which is one of my favorite gardening tasks (again: dork).  And theb we cleaned up and grabbed dinner at a familiar and beloved restaurant. 

And at the garden store, we did all the same things we always do-- "Did you know there's such a thing as a weeping mulberry? That sounds pretty," and "Smith Blood Valencia orange. Wait, is that a blood or a Valencia orange, then? Will it fruit in winter or in the spring? Quick, let's Google it!" and "I yike apricots! I yike plums!"

And then, as we do every year, we decided we needed to go home and do more research before choosing trees. We'll do some of it this year, and forget some of it entirely, or get caught up on other stuff. I know this because it's what we do every year. But if we actually figured out exactly which trees we wanted and bought them all, how will we justify having this wonderful day next Superbowl Sunday, and the next, and the next?