Okay, potatoes. When Dan and I were on our trip in Washington last month, my sister took us to Bellingham to visit her dear friends, their two cute kids and their adorable dog, Chester, aka ‘Butter.’ This was a fun adventure that included a ferry ride to Lummi Island, an extended happy hour on the beach, an encounter with a beavare, and, because we reveled too long on the beach, missing dinner on the island and ending up at a taco place/ bar in Bellingham where my sister, in a moment of brilliance, discovered that you could order a bowl of nacho cheese to accompany your burrito.
Whose cheese? Nacho cheese!
The next morning, our lovely hostess made an asparagus and egg frittata for breakfast and enlisted my help in making the roasted potatoes. I had been roasting cauliflower, broccoli and brussel sprouts all winter, but it had never occurred to me to roast potatoes. So while my sister nobley fumbled with the coffee maker, I had to ask for guidance in making the potatoes (I’d like to think that what sometimes comes off as our ditziness is really just a profound desire to ask questions and to make sure that we do things right!) Now, I can’t stop making these potatoes… It’s the easiest thing and they turn out oh so delectable.
Clean and dried organic potatoes
I’ll give you the same directions that were given to me. Pre-heat the oven to 375 or 400 degrees. Rinse off and dry organic potatoes (I’ve been using yellow ones from Willy Street Co-op and picking out the smallest ones I can find.) Place potatoes in a bowl and toss with olive oil, minced garlic and whatever savory spices or herbs that you have on hand. I have used oregano and Penzey’s country french vinagrette. My neighbor has been keeping me in the fresh basil the last few weeks, thanks to his indoor herb garden, and I have been using this too, but adding it after the potatoes come out of the oven. Transfer the potatoes to a baking sheet and place them in the oven and roast for 25-35 minutes, or until the skins just become golden brown crisp; you may want to give them a good shake a couple of times during the cooking process. Place the potatoes in a bowl and toss with freshly ground pepper and sea salt to taste. Serve these potatoes as a breakfast side dish, a light meal with a salad and bread, or any way you want, really… I don’t think you could go wrong. Enjoy.
The following is a guest appearance on ‘Wisconsin Fun Next Exit’ by Dan Walkner
I own pets. I love pets. Pets are where it’s at. Got a pet? Sweet! No pets? Poor you! Whenever I see a pet in the wild, I often talk to or scratch said pet. I generally make up a new name for the pet. For instance, in our neighborhood I have made up the following nicknames for a few of the cats: Ahman Green, Cruddy, Cinnabon, Orange Roughy, Sir Spicy Kickers, and many more. When encountering a pet, if the owner is friendly, or not looking, I often pick up the pet to see how heavy it is and have Erica snap a picture for posterity’s sake. I call this activity “Fun with Pets.” I recently played FWP in Seattle, and here are some of the results!
This man trains cats. He was awesome, and had two friendly pets on display.
This is Happy Speckles. After talking to her, I warned a nearby Chihuahua about an eagle that I had recently seen in the vicinity. He heeded the warning.
Seriously? This fence hates pets for no reason!
This is Miguel. We became fast friends. If he ran for mayor, I pity the fool who runs against him. He’s that popular.
This dog was very friendly and alert. His breath, sadly, was appalling. Made up for it with moxie.
Although not pets themselves, these charitable cupcake saleswomen gave me the skinny on the neighborhood’s pets. Oddly enough, we saw these same kids at a Mariners game where I overheard one of them say to her friend,”He bought a cupcake from our bake sale. He really likes cats.” That really happened.
While lulling this pet into a false sense of security, I moved too quickly and it ran under a couch while his cat friend in the house looked longingly on while standing in close proximity to a disco ball.
Boldi the Corgi and Greta the Shepard were outside of a grocery store. Greta speaks fluent German, but if you scratch her, Boldi tries to either bite Greta’s face or your face. Lots of face biting with these two.
Poor Walter. He lives with a giant flailing dog named Josie, so, alas, he spends a lot of his time under stuff, like this couch.
The adorable Josie in a rare non-flailing moment. Lots of energy!
Sena and I participated in a chicken naming contest at a chic mercantile. They had pet chickens there. Note the extreme amount of thought being showcased by us. Naming pets is a serious endeavor not to be trifled with. I wanted the chick to be “Elka” if it was a girl or “Bjorn” for a male. Sena chose the name “Gordon Lightfoot” for the chick regardless of gender.In one of the world’s greatest miscarriages of justice, they opted not to select our names.
This dog runs his own knick knack store! Enterprising lad, this one! I bought a belt buckle from him.
This is Peter Tosh. He gets his name because he has dreads and is a little bit ornery. Very mellow when not being manhandled by strangers, though.
This is Nellie Mae (actual name on her necklace). She is surprisingly skinny for a cat that eats out of the dumpsters behind a Mediterranean restaurant. She ran away when she got spooked by the mail man crashing into a “No Parking” sign.
This is Martin (pronounced (Mar-teen). He gets his name because he walks gingerly like former NFL kicker Martin Grammatica. His hobbies (the cat not the kicker) include walking on sidewalks, being way fluffy, and allowing strangers to maul him. Sena looks on.
Look closely. No, closer. Ah, that’s better. Yes! A snail, but not just any snail. Oh no, this old boy was out for a walk. Why not? It was about 65 degrees and sunny! We were overjoyed to meet this pet.
Meet Mocha. We were having an intense argument about whether it was more fun to drink beer at the beach or chew on sticks at the beach. Lucky for us, we saw an otter and realized that life is too short to bicker about petty issues like sticks vs. beer. Thanks otter. We needed that.
You might think there are no pets in this picture. Wrong! That was a Beavare that we spotted on Lummi Island. A puported mythical creature assumed to be a West Coast relative of the Hodag, we spotted this particular Beavare on the beach. Myth busted!
If Chester were a professional athlete, his scouting report would be “moves well for a big man.” Case in point, he has survived a bear attack and several beavare maulings. Ok, ok. The bear part is true, though. Well done Chester!
Another of the enterprising Seattle pet-set, this demure puppers owns a soap store. She is a pretty soft sell, though. Erica bought some soap and a soap dish with a whale on it for our “Nantucket Sleighride” themed bathroom.
Picked up this dicey dame at The Waterwheel Lounge. Her owner, although very creepy and reportedly on Mescaline (that’s what his even creepier sidekick told me), was one heckuva ping pong player.
Ah, pets. Appreciate them. Love them. And if you see a friendly-looking man hoisting your pet in the air and a cute feisty brunette snappin’ a picture of it, rest assured that these people are not deranged weirdos bent on pet destruction. They are uplifters of not only pets, but pet culture. I. Love. Pets.
Yesterday as I got out of my car in the cool, drizzly rain my neighbor welcomed me to Seattle. Ironically, I told him, I just got back from Seattle and it was warm and sunny every day. Not to brag. Our conversation ended in solidarity signs and promises to keep fighting the good fight. Before I left for Seattle I kept catching myself holding my breath. While driving, doing the dishes, sitting at my computer. I noticed that I was doing it again yesterday and it occurred to me that this did not happen to me once while I was visiting my sister in the Pacific Northwest. I believe that it has gotten hard to breath here in Wisconsin the last few months. My state, my values and my current chosen profession are under attack. For one magical week I got to forget about all of this and simply indulge. I got to see old friends and make new ones. I am a very lucky woman. As I write this my sister is riding a ferry to the location where she will be working for the day. I can’t help but feel a tad bit jealous. This summer when I am sitting at the Union terrace drinking a beer or eating dinner out on our screen porch listening to the crickets I know that she will feel a tad bit jealous of me. Should we explore and expand our life experiences by moving to a new place or should we stay home and cultivate our roots? This is what I’m thinking about this morning. After last week, don’t be surprised if the new title of this blog becomes “Seattle fun next exit.” I’m just kidding… sort of. While I loved being in Seattle last week, I’m home now and I’ve got a line on a used canoe for this summer. I will keep fighting the good fight and wait for the sun to come out. I will feel happy to be home.
In the meantime, I bring you my picks for the Best of Seattle, April 18-23, 2011:
I thought that it would be appropriate to start with coffee, considering that this is Seattle. My sister’s favorite (and now mine) hangout is Makeda Coffee. I loved the relaxed environment and friendly owner. They have delicious coffee, lattes and treats, including squash bread and gluten-free, organic doughnuts (I love Seattle). There are excellent tables for playing cribbage and I love that they will give you a dollar off wine or beer on Friday evenings if you play a board game. They also have live entertainment, and Dan could have played over the weekend, but we had to hit the road… Next time.
Oh delicious 2% latteMakeda Coffee
Favorite Cupcake Stand: Those two girls sitting in their driveway, Phinney Ridge
When Dan and I had finished our cribbage game at Makeda Coffee we decided to leave my sister alone for a few minutes so that she could get some work done. It was a beautiful day so we took a walk around the ‘hood. We were playing the game that I invented while babysitting, Cats versus Dogs (you count the cats, you count the dogs), when we spotted the bake sale. Dan said, “Whatever those girls are selling, I’m buying one.” It turns out the girls were selling homeade and home-awesomely-decorated cupcakes and donating half of the proceeds to Japan. Dan bought one and donated a little extra. We chatted with them for a little while and they gave us some information on the neighborhood cats. We said our goodbyes, but as you will read later, this was not the last time we had the chance to see these sweet two girls who give you faith in humanity.
Bake saleCupcakes!
Favorite Cocktail Bar: Oliver’s Twist, Phinney Ridge
Not only does this bar have the widest selection of bitters that we have ever seen (lavender bitters?!), they also make the most sinful and rich garlic truffle popcorn that tastes like heaven during happy hour. And although I do not drink a lot of cocktails (I like beer), I think that if I lived near Oliver’s Twist, I might. My sister recommended the Bullseye- tequila, mint, lemon, ginger beer, and a couple of other things that I had to look up in the menu’s glossary. It was refreshing and oh so good. Dan tried the Presbyterian- bourbon, soda and ginger ale. Yum. We went back the next night like old regulars.
BullseyeThe PresbyterianUpon our obvious intrigue, the bartender pulled out all of her bitters for us to see
Stay tuned for more of my favorites, including my favorite Major League Ballpark in Seattle, favorite bar to avoid getting into a brawl over ping pong and my most serendipitous moment of the trip.
Too much to write right now, but this has been a magical trip to the Northwest. From everything from the beautiful (and tasty) lattes at my sister’s favorite coffee shop, Makeda Coffee, to getting to babble incoherently to my inspiration outside of Delancey last night (not to mention the mouth-watering pizza pies), I love everything Seattle this week. I’d love to tell you more, but for now I’m off for coffee and more Washington adventures.
Origin:
1850–55; < German, equivalent to wander ( n ) to wander + Lust desire; see lust
(from dictionary.com)
Friday mornings mean coffee and the Avett Brothers. Friday mornings in February mean listening to this song over and over and thinking about my own urge to ‘jump the tracks.’ I ain’t mad at ya, Wisconsin, I just get antsy. And spring break is a long way away….
I love this man. And I truly love being on the road. What sparked this love of the open road may have been a road trip that my family took to Maine and back in a lime green Ford Pinto when I was five-years-old. On that trip we experienced many adventures, including one night at a hotel in Buffalo Port Jervis, New York where, at least as I recall, the swimming pool was the color and consistency of pea soup and, according to my dad, contained barracudas- we all swam despite these conditions. Or it could have started much earlier with countless car trips to Iowa to visit my grandparents (often with my sister and I fighting over the ubiquitous line in the backseat). I have memories of spilling my chocolate milk all over my grilled cheese at a chain-type restaurant in Canada or Michigan and an image in my mind of a drawing (done while driving through Pennsylvania?) where a family of octupi are eating Pizza Hut (I believe this was a subtle hint). I remember being woken up by my parents at 5 a.m. in a motel in Indiana where they declared, “Let’s flee,” because some loud truck had been parked outside of our room all night and another time fleeing our reservation at a place on Cape Cod because it was found to be less than desirable. At the age of 10 or 11, I once cried upon arriving at our hotel in St. Augustine, Florida (after 16 hours in the car with my mom, 16-year-old sister, and our two friends) when I discovered that the doors weren’t as blue as the Atlantic Ocean as our guidebook had promised. I’ve been driven through Washington D.C. and Boston (without stopping), counted my mosquito bites under a tree in Ithica, New York Burlington, Vermont while my sister was on a whirlwind college campus tour, and gotten car sick along the windy highways of California. I suppose it could have gone the other way, but a wanderlust for traveling the country via the highway began and I have had it ever since.
Last spring Dan and I took a two-week road trip with stops in Oklahoma, Arizona, Utah and Colorado. This trip was full of family, good friends, and many magical moments including this dessert (inhaled at the Lincoln Cafe in Mt. Vernon, Iowa);
Dessert at the Lincoln Cafe, Mt. Vernon, Iowa
finding my new favorite dress at this store in Norman, Oklahoma;
Birdie in Norman, Oklahoma
finding a road sign in New Mexico for the town named in one of my all-time favorite songs (Willin’ by Little Feat) ;
So that’s where they were talking about…
getting snowed on in Arizona on April Fool’s Day;
April Fool’s!
and realizing that my dear relatives from Montana were ordering mochas in the same cafe in Moab, Utah where Dan and I had decided to eat breakfast. What a serendipitous meeting that was that morning.
Eklectica, Moab, Utah: The cafe (with delicious vegetarian breakfasts) where I randomly ran into my relatives from MontanaRunning into my mom’s cousin in Moab led to our first trip to Arches- she told us that we had to visit the park and even gave us the money for admission!
On that trip we played Scrabble with my mom while listening to a cd of bird calls; met multiple different groups of people with connections to Wisconsin; attended a 3-day wedding in Scottsdale bringing together people from Green Bay and Germany (a perfect match) where we taught our German friends how to play bags and our Arizonian bartender how to make old fashioneds; got our tent blown away by torrential winds outside of Moab; and listened to our first Brewers game of the season because they were playing the Rockies as we drove through the mountains of Colorado on our way to Denver. I didn’t want the trip to end- it’s one of the only times that I can remember that I wasn’t ready to walk in the door of my house, drop my bags and sleep in my own bed. I wanted to keep going. In fact, I cried as I drove my car down the empty streets of Madison at 5 a.m. on the last morning of our trip.
Along the way Dan played six shows- we called it his “Lake Effect” tour.
Tour poster in Moab
Traveling the country with a musician can be one of the most fun ways to travel. You figure out where and when the shows are and then you get to connect the dots in between, which allows you plenty of freedom and adventure along the way. We lucked out and were able to book Dan shows pretty easily. For an entertaining review of Dan’s show in Flagstaff, click here and scroll down. I like the title at the top about “Midwestern weirdness…” I’m not sure how they knew about the accent….
The open road
But, being on the road with a musician can also mean late, late nights, unpredictable schedules, unpredictable bar patrons, and unpredictable meals. It can mean eating potato chips for dinner, no dinner, or tacos at 4 a.m. (albeit they were my favorite black bean tacos from Burrito Drive on Willy Street in Madison- the pickled red onions are a MUST). This is what happened on our latest road adventure this past weekend as we drove between Madison, Manitowoc, Two Rivers, Manitowoc, Concord (the suburbs of Sullivan/ Ixonia), Madison, Manitowoc, and Madison in a five-day stretch. And all of this leads me to lentil soup. On Friday I received a text message from my mom saying that she was making bean soup for dinner (my mom has taught me an enduring appreciation for the deliciousness and comfort that is soup) and it was practically all I could think about for the rest of the weekend. So last night I finally got my soup. And it made it all worthwhile.
This is a recipe that I have made a bunch of times, but I have to say that this was my best batch. The only thing that I really did differently was that instead of using 6 cups of water, I used one cup of old red wine and 5 cups of water. I also used all brown lentils and I really liked their texture. I served it at 9:30 p.m. with steamed broccoli with lemon and a sourdough baguette and it was oh so good to be home again (this time).
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This recipe is from the cookbook, “The Williams-Sonoma Collection: Soup.” (I received this cookbook from my mom for Christmas several years ago with the inscription, “For obvious reasons.”)
Lentil Soup
2 tablespoons olive oil
1 yellow onion, finely chopped
1 celery stalk, thinly sliced
1 carrot, thinly sliced
1 clove garlic; minced
1 bay leaf
2 teaspoons curry powder*
1 cup canned diced plum tomatoes, with juice
1 1/2 cups dried brown or pink lentils, picked over, rinsed and drained
6 cups chicken, beef, or vegetable stock or prepared broth**
1 lemon, sliced
1 cup coarsely chopped fresh spinach
salt and freshly ground pepper
In a large saucepan over medium-high heat, warm the oil. Add the onion, celery, carrot, garlic and bay leaf and saute until the vegetables are softened, about 5 minutes. Stir in the curry powder and cook until fragrant, about 1 minute.
Add the tomatoes and their juice, lentils, stock*, and lemon slices. Bring to a simmer over medium-high heat. Reduce the heat to medium-low, cover partially, and cook, stirring occasionally, until the lentils are tender, about 30 minutes. Discard the lemon slices and bay leaf.
Just before serving, stir in the spinach, reduce the heat to low, and simmer until the spinach is wilted but still bright green. Season to taste with salt and pepper.**
Ladle the soup into warmed bowls*** and serve immediately.
Makes 4-6 servings****
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*I think I add more than two teaspoons of curry powder and I also add chili pepper flakes.
**Since going veg I don’t use chicken or beef broth but I also don’t like the flavor of store-bought vegetable stock. I have used water every time (and now I will use a little wine too).
***Warming the bowls does sound like a nice touch- I have yet to do this.
****For once Dan and I did not eat all of the “4-6” servings and I am looking forward to the leftovers.
Enjoy this soup at home any time and revel in being in your own kitchen with a warming and wholesome meal. But when you are ready to be on the road again, fish out your atlas, grab the tent, pack up the car (don’t forget the healthy snacks), and blast this song as soon as you hit the highway. I get goose bumps just thinking about it.
WISCONSIN FUN NEXT EXIT 