Troopers in the Autumn Garden

23 Nov

I have sadly neglected the garden. I’d like to blame it on work and family obligations, but the real reason is that I find the autumn clean-up far less satisfying than the spring clean-up. In the spring, when I gather up the detritus from winter, I am delighted to see tiny new shoots pushing through the earth underneath. I love seeing new buds unfurling. The atmosphere in the garden is of one of eager anticipation. The prep work then is like priming a canvas before painting in order to set the stage for a masterpiece to emerge. It is a fantasy, I admit–but in June, when viewed at just the right angle in just the right light by someone who is squinting slightly, the garden does look somewhat like an Impressionist work of art.

In the autumn, the garden is a much sorrier sight (well, my garden is). And the clean-up then feels more like chore than delight. But there is no camouflage in the winter, so if anything, making sure the garden looks neat and tidy is even more important. So what did I do today? Did I spend hours pruning, deadheading, weeding, or transplanting? No, I procrastinated–I took photos of the few remaining spots of color and bits of interest, telling myself tomorrow is another day.

Here are a few autumnal troopers: Echinacea ‘Southern Belle,’ a Montauk Daisy featuring a slightly lethargic bee, and Hidcote Lavender. Plus, something to look forward to: buds on Witch Hazel ‘Birgit,’ ready to burst forth very early next year for some welcome late-winter color.

   

Weekly Photo Challenge: Layers

17 Nov

This week’s theme is “layers,” and of course, my thoughts turned to food–and specifically to onions, whose layers have been the subject of many quotes, mostly about hidden depths and weeping. In my case, I’d be weeping if I didn’t have any onions around. I realize it is probably quite shallow to only think of my stomach in lieu of other, more profound (or perhaps more pungent) observations about this revered member of the allium genus.

But here’s something. The red onion I cut open today had a particularly striking and almost glowing yellow core, so Cyrano de Bergerac’s philosophical musings struck a chord: “And in the Onion, the Germ is the little Sun of that little World, which vivifies and nourishes the vegetative Salt of that little mass.” As the onion itself adds life to so many dishes. I can’t imagine my kitchen without it.

Postcard from Rwanda: Countryside

16 Nov

In my previous post about Rwanda, I mentioned that it is called the land of a thousand hills, but in reality, it is more like the land of 10,000 hills–or so it appears when visiting the northern part of the country. As far as the eye can see, there are green, rolling hills–almost all of them carefully terraced. Banana trees are a common feature, and in many valleys, there are rice paddies with strategically placed scarecrows to defend the plots against avian intruders. Bicycle transport demonstrates that ingenuity is born of necessity, and balancing skills of any kind go a long way.

   

Postcard from Rwanda: Kigali

12 Nov

Apologies for the silence; I was away for work. But I was lucky enough to be in a gorgeous country–Rwanda, the land of a thousand hills. I had known about its tragic past (visiting the Kigali Genocide Memorial is a sobering experience), but had not realized how hilly and beautiful it was. The verdant landscape and vibrant colors were a pleasure to behold. And the capital city, Kigali, was  bustling, with motorcycle taxis taking passengers to and fro.  The photos below are from street level, from the unfinished top of the Kigali City Tower, and from the vantage point of a hill on the outskirts of the capital, from which we were able to observe striking clouds at dusk, some dumping rain over far parts of the city.

 

Photo of the Month: Happy Halloween

31 Oct

With regards from a spider that has taken up residence on our porch.

Recipe: Black-Eyed Pea Curry

29 Oct

Part of the Indian meal I prepared recently for friends with divergent dietary preferences included this Black-Eyed Pea Curry. It answered a number of needs: it is vegetarian (vegan, actually) and is an excellent source of protein. And it goes nicely with drier, less saucy dishes such as the Spicy Indian Eggplant with Tomatoes. Not that dry dishes can’t be saucy in their own ways–that eggplant was quite a palate teaser. This dish, with mellow coconut milk, is a nice counterpoint.

Black-Eyed Pea Curry
Serves 4-6

2 (15-oz.) cans black-eyed peas, drained
2 tbsp. canola oil
1 large onion, chopped
3 large cloves garlic, minced
1.5 tsp. ground cumin
1.5 tsp. ground coriander
1/2 tsp. ground ginger
1/2 tsp. ground turmeric
1/4 tsp. cayenne or sprinkle of chili flakes
1 large tomato, seeded and diced
1 c. hot water
1/2 tsp. salt, or one small vegetable bouillon cube
1/2 tsp. sugar
1 c. canned coconut milk
1 tbsp. lemon juice (or to taste)
2 tbsp. minced cilantro leaves

Preparation
1. Heat the oil in a large pan over medium heat and sauté the onion until it starts turning golden brown at the edges. Add the next 6 ingredients (through the cayenne/chili flakes) and stir for 2 minutes. Add the tomatoes and cook for a couple more minutes, mashing the tomatoes with the back of a slotted spoon until they disintegrate.
2. Add the black-eyed peas, the water, the salt/bouillon cube, and the sugar. Turn heat to low, cover, and simmer for about 10 minutes. Stir in the coconut milk and simmer uncovered for another 10 minutes, or until liquid has reduced slightly.
3. Add the lemon juice, cook for one more minute, then sprinkle with the cilantro just before serving.

Recipe is adapted from 5 spices, 50 dishes by Ruta Kahate.

Recipe: Spicy Indian Eggplant with Tomatoes

27 Oct

I have always loved logic problems. You know–the kind where a man in a blue coat on a bus is sitting two seats away from a woman with red hair who is diagonally across from another woman using an iPhone and one seat away from a man with a green scarf reading the paper.  Eventually, given more clues, you’d have to say where everyone was sitting, what color hair they had, what they were wearing, and what they were doing.

Perhaps that is why I also greatly enjoy certain culinary challenges. For example, tonight we had friends over for dinner and had a lovely time with them. But having lived in Berkeley, we learned early on to ask if our guests had any dietary preferences or restrictions. This time around, several of our guests could not eat dairy, gluten, or meat (two friends are each avoiding one of those items, the other cannot have two of them–but no one friend is avoiding all three). The remaining five people at the table tonight eat anything and everything. No one was vegan.

So, what to serve? In cases such as this, I find that Indian food is perfect. There are myriad vegetarian and non-dairy options, and rice does not contain gluten. So I decided to use this opportunity to experiment by making several dishes I haven’t tried before. This eggplant dish is one of them, and one of the reasons I chose it is that it can be served at room temperature. Anything that can be made ahead of time, I like. This recipe, which family members deemed a keeper, is adapted from Madhur Jaffrey’s Indian Cooking.

Spicy Indian Eggplant with Tomatoes
Serves 6
[Updated 9 March 2021]

1 tsp. ground ginger
6 large cloves garlic, minced
1/8 c. (30 ml.) water

1 3/4 lb. (795 gr.) baby eggplant
about 1.5 c. (415 ml.) canola or vegetable oil

1 tsp. whole fennel seeds
1/2 tsp. whole cumin seeds
1 (15-oz./425 gr.) can petite diced tomatoes, drained, liquid reserved
1 tbsp. ground coriander
1/4 tsp. ground turmeric
1/8 tsp. cayenne (or chili flakes)
1 tsp. salt
1/2 tsp. sugar
1 tbsp. fresh lemon juice

Preparation

  1. Combine the ginger, garlic and water in a small bowl; set aside.
  2. Cut the eggplant lengthwise into halves, then cut each half lengthwise into four strips; cut the strips in half crosswise.
  3. Heat 1/2 c. (140 ml.) of the oil in a deep frying pan over medium-high heat; when hot, add one layer of eggplant and cook until the eggplant is golden-brown, turning pieces over as they cook. Remove eggplant and drain on a layer of paper towels.
  4. Repeat until all eggplant slices have been cooked, adding additional oil to the pan each time as needed.
  5. Once all the eggplant has been cooked, keep about 3 tbsp. of the oil in the pan, and discard the rest.
  6. Add the fennel and cumin seeds to the hot oil in the pan. Stir for a few seconds, then add the tomato, the ginger-garlic mixture, and the coriander, turmeric, cayenne, salt, and sugar.
  7. Stir and cook for 5-6 minutes, breaking up the tomato pieces with the back of a slotted spoon. Continue to cook until the mixture gets thick and paste-like.
  8. Return the eggplant to the pan and gently mix in; add the lemon juice. Cook on medium-low for about 10 minutes, adding some of the reserved tomato liquid if the eggplant looks too dry.
  9. Check the seasonings and adjust as needed (you may like to add more salt, or a pinch more sugar, or a bit more lemon juice).
  10. Serve warm or at room temperature.

Fall Colors

24 Oct

It’s that time of year–a time where I am loath to leave the warmth of my bed in the dark and chill of the morning, a coat is becoming a necessity, and the thermostat beckons. It is fall. But this crispness in the air brings with it a relief from the hot, muggy, dog days of summer and, even better, it brings vivid autumnal colors.

Here are some photos from a recent walk around my neighborhood and Rock Creek Park.

Seed Transport: A Hairy Situation?

22 Oct

When I think of autumn, I think of brilliant, jewel-toned foliage: rich reds, oranges, and yellows. But fall is also a time for brown–and specifically, for really interesting seed pods that have dried up, split open, and offered up their treasures.

In a recent post, I wrote about wind dispersal of seeds via feathery parachutes. Seeds attached to or encased in balls of fluff can travel quite far on a good breeze. But there are other ways for seeds to get around. Catching a ride on a passing animal is one of them. And that is why some seeds are sticky — or hairy, as in the case of Rose of Sharon seeds, which are encircled by a fuzzy ring.

Despite this transport mechanism, however, Rose of Sharon plants are really, really good at self seeding, with dozens of seedlings springing up around the base of the parent plant each year. So while those seeds are designed for adventure, they are really homebodies at heart. And I’ll take a homebody any day, if it puts on a good show (see below).

Rose of Sharon seed pods

Rose of Sharon seeds

Rose of Sharon flower

Weekly Photo Challenge: Infinite

12 Oct

This week’s photo challenge is “infinite.” When we were children, my brother and I used to like seeing images within images within images. If we passed by a storefront displaying such an infinite progression of the same thing (say, a poster of a clown holding a poster that showed the same clown holding a poster that showed the same clown yet again), we would always stop and stare, marveling at how the image could go on forever, perhaps even beyond the point where it was visible to the naked eye. If we couldn’t see it, was it still there?

This photo doesn’t portray an image within an image, but it somehow says “infinite” to me. It’s a long look down the length of a variegated yucca leaf. But because the top and bottom portions are out of focus, with only the middle defined, there doesn’t appear to be any clear beginning or end. The leaf seems suspended in infinity, with the grooves pointing the way to parts unknown.