But Wait, There’s More: Butternut Squash Soup, Standby Recipe for Fall

fall leaves, fall color

I know I said we were finished with our Standby Recipes series, but when a couple of cool late August-early September days came along, I started to crave this soup.  Once you’ve had it you’ll know what I mean.  Simple and deeply satisfying (and vegan and gluten-free if you want it to be).

My friend Alison first made it for me when I landed in England, barely awake and hungry after a long night of travel.  It revived me and felt so much more nourishing than any of the easy-grab things I would have eaten, left to my own devices.  When I’m feeling lazy or tired and debating whether or not I want to get involved with a butternut squash, I remember how bone-deep-wonderful this tasted on that early English morning and how it only took her half an hour. 

Butternut Squash Soup

1 small-medium onion, diced

1 T butter or vegetable/olive oil

2-3 sprigs of fresh rosemary, chopped

1 small-medium butternut squash, peeled, seeds discarded, chopped into 1” pieces

1 quart vegetable stock

1 can white beans (like cannellini), rinsed and drained

Salt and pepper, to taste

Melt butter (or warm oil) in large pot or Dutch oven.  Add onion and sauté for several minutes until soft and translucent.  Add rosemary and continue sautéing for another minute or two.

Be careful peeling and chopping the squash.  (I use a good vegetable peeler (not a knife) to peel and then work on small sections at a time – it will be slippery.)  When you’ve tackled it, add it to the pot and pour in the vegetable stock.  Turn it up to a boil and cook, stirring occasionally, until squash is tender and easily pierced with a fork.

When the squash is getting close to done, add the beans and some fresh black pepper. 

Before I had a blender, I used a food processor for this next part and it’s perfectly yummy and acceptable to do so.  But if you have a blender, I recommend using it.  The soft, velvety purée you can achieve with the blender is perfection.  So, get whichever device you are going to use and, in small batches, purée the soup.  It is very easy to have it explode out of the blender when it’s hot and you put too much in, so be conservative.  I keep a bowl handy and pour out the blended soup into it, while continuing to blend the soup from the pot in batches.

When you have it all blended (a few stray beans left in the bottom of the pot is fine and adds a nice random texture to the final product, so don’t stress about those), pour the soup back into the pot.  Turn it down to warm and taste.  Adjust with salt and more pepper, if desired.

That’s it.  Homemade soup in half an hour.  Bliss.  Yum.  Go, make and enjoy!

Epiphany on the Shore

When I got married at 40 I also became stepmom to a 19 year-old with autism.  By the time we became a family, I had finally started feeling proud of my single self for putting some money into my retirement account each month.  That’s where I was with planning for the future – and I thought it was pretty good, all things considered.  Then I became one of the autism parenting team. 

In the time I’ve been his stepmom, he has graduated from the school he attended and – as with many times before – paved the way for those behind him, this time as one of the first in the fledgling adult day care program.  It’s a wonderful program and he’s contented there. 

surfers healing at va beach

Click the picture for a great short video about Surfers Healing.

And we still don’t know what’s next.  I spend more time than I probably should worried about it.  My meager retirement-savings-for-one – even when coupled with my husband’s – are even more meager when expected to last another lifetime for someone who will never work or live on his own.  And that’s just the money.  I also worry about how and where he will live and who will take care of him.

I’ve known for a while now the worry is not good and does no good.  But it’s hard to stop. 

Then we went to the beach for the day.

We had one of those coveted spots at a Surfers Healing camp this summer.  Surfers Healing is a non-profit founded by Izzy and Danielle Paskowitz after discovering the calming effects of surfing on their son who has autism.  A former competitive surfer, Izzy recruits other pro surfers to take children – hundreds at each camp – surfing.  They are expert surfers and amazing people who interact so beautifully with the kids and adults with autism. 

My stepson loves the beach so he didn’t take any convincing to go.  I wasn’t sure what his reaction to surfing would be, though we rehearsed the story with him the whole day before and on the long ride there.  He can swim and they put everyone in life jackets before they get anywhere near the ocean’s edge.  So I wasn’t worried about him.  I was happy we could take the time and make the trip.  I wanted him to have the experience and I thought he’d be the one gaining healing and calm that day.  The only one.

I was wrong.

The surfers walked with him down to the shoreline and demonstrated how to lay stomach-down on the board.  Three of them steadied the surf board and accompanied him out to sea.  As they bobbed their way out, away from us, I was overcome with emotion and tears.  I was not expecting this.  I stood there in the wind, watching these kind surfers take him some place I couldn’t go and yet I knew he was still completely safe.

It was relief I felt.  And it flooded me with tears.  Standing there, I felt the weight of the worry I have been carrying since I came into his life.  I recognized my biggest worry by far is who will take care of him after we are all gone. 

I know it won’t be those surfers we met that day.  But the gift of watching them surround him on the board and go with him into the waves was the gut-level certainty that someone could and would.  It was like a trial run, handing him over to others who can take care of him and handle his quirks and his beauty.  It was the most unexpected gift and relief-drenched glimpse of what can come next.

I didn’t go to the beach for my own healing that day.  I never even got in the water, but I’m ready to go back next year and stand on the shore again.  Rehearse the relief.  Receive the gift of community.  Allow healing.  Look ahead into the choppy waters with hope.

August: Beaches and Beginning Again

stones on the beach at the sea of galileeGearing up for the fall semester provides an annual opportunity for me to check in with God as I survey the path ahead.  Even if you are one of those lucky dogs soaking up sun on a beach right now, you can still invite God in and reflect on these questions together.  Where are you headed this year?

How about heading over to join me at the National Campus Ministry Association blog today?

Typos and Daily Barn Chores

barn 001

I transposed a letter and told them I’d been “writing in dairies.” 

I wonder what it would be like to set up shop among the stalls, between milking times.  Swollen udders and pregnant thoughts snuggled in a barn together.  What does lowing sound like and is it a good soundtrack for writing?  Do cows recognize contemplation or would they be annoyed with my non-utilitarian presence, wondering why I was taking so long to start milking them? 

My dad grew up with cows and used to describe to us the rolling rhythm of milking.  First you grab the teat up close to the udder with your thumb and forefinger.  Then you roll down one by one until each finger is grasping it.  Pull down and squeeze.  

It sounded more intimate than I was interested in being with a cow.  When I understood how uncomfortable a full udder is for the cow it sounded compassionate.

Writers need this:  to be our own farmers, committed to the chore.  Farmers don’t stray from the farm or the routine.  The rest of life is built around it or adapted to it.  Vacations, trips to the city, the timing of dinner.  The worn paths to the barn – the ones that seem like just part of the scenery – are created over decades, in all weather and seasons, whether the farmer feels like it or not. 

When it’s time, it’s time. 

And then there is the milk.  Cream.  Butter.  Ice cream.  The sweetness and savor of life, from the rhythm of two times a day.  

Bartering like it’s 1899

stoneware pottery yarn bowl

This swoopy cut delights me.

Last Advent I was captivated by a friend’s picture post of her newly knitted Advent calendar.  She made 24 little red, green, and winter white mittens and hung them on a garland.  Inside each one was a slip of paper describing that day’s special Advent treat or excursion.  My friend is also a fantastic photographer, so the picture itself was gorgeous.

I kept going back to click on it again and drink in the colors and coziness of her creation.  When I finally asked if I could commission her to create one for me for Advent this year, she said, “Why don’t we barter?”

So I’ve been working on my first yarn bowls in pottery class this year.  They’re designed to hold a ball of yarn, so that when you pull on the end (fed through cool cutaway patterns in the bowl) the ball doesn’t roll away.

Unexpectedly, bartering my pottery for her knitting made me feel more like a “real artist” than selling a piece or two.  I love the exchange of art for art, work for work.  When I went to the pack and ship store yesterday to send the yarn bowl off to my friend, I paid attention to the cool weight of that blue bowl with the gorgeous swoopy cutaway.  And then I handed it over to make its way to another state and another home, where mittens are taking shape to eventually make their way to me.

Of course, in the barter age they didn’t have pack and ship stores or the internet. 

(Click on over to my potter page to see what else came out of the kiln this month.  I also tried making lamps for the first time!)

Oh, the Weather Outside is Frightful

lake george islands, ny

Chilling out on Lake George, NY

As a snow day kind of gal, I can languish a bit in summer.  Wilt, actually.  When I lived in Atlanta I thought the whole town should just shut down for the entire month of August and everyone should lie down naked in the air conditioning and not move until the end of the month.  This seemed like a reasonable response to the heat.

Though I almost never think of a snowy day as “frightful,” the same cannot be said for sweaty sweltering summer days.  So when the RevGalBlogPals web ring posts an enticing group blog prompt in celebration of cooling off, well, I’m all in!

Today’s Friday Five:  Tell us how you beat the heat with your favorite…

1.  Cool treat.  Homemade lemonade, on the tart side.  Lemons, water, sugar, and ice.  It doesn’t get much simpler or better than this.  I’m not even much of a lemonade drinker, but when I squeeze it myself and the whole kitchen has that lemon-spritzed smell, and I pour it from a beautiful pottery pitcher…well.

2.  Cool drink.  Frozen margaritas in a salted glass, partaken of on a porch.  With my feet up.

3.  Cooling-off place.  The neighborhood pool.  The past couple of summers I’m remembering how much I love to swim and it’s great exercise without sweating.  Plus, it’s quite entertaining to listen to the neighborhood kids playing, saying things like, “You be the Barbie shark.”

4.  Cool clothes.  First, the bra must come off immediately upon returning home.  After that, anything feels cooler.  I love tank tops, baggy summer cotton pajama pants, and bare feet.

5.  Best alternative to air-conditioning.  My time warp answer:  Piling into the back of my grandfather’s truck right after dinner but before sunset and riding the back roads with my hair whipping my face.  I felt grown up and safely cared for all at the same time.  It was too noisy to talk so I had my thoughts to myself as the world sped past.  We’d come home to darker skies, cooler air, and a yard full of lightening bugs.

Phone Booth Redecoration and Other Futile Pastimes

red uk phone booths in the snow

© 2013 Oatsy40

I heard Nadia Bolz-Weber speak during our United Methodist Campus Ministry Association conference in Denver last week.  I am not a tattooed person, mainly because I can’t imagine picking something I would still like in 20 years.  (I change glasses frames every couple of years!)  Nadia, who is amply tattooed, is the kind of fierce, attractive, solid person who makes you take notice.  She even made me sort of want a tattoo.

But that’s not what this post is about.  It’s about desperation. 

Nadia made an observation that was so spot on, I laughed out loud and I’m still thinking about it.  She pointed out that just because people are cynical about institutions does not mean they don’t want what the institutions have promised.  So, though folks may be hesitant about and suspicious of church as an institution, they may also be hungry for community, God-space, ritual, sacrament…. 

She also observed that it’s near impossible these days to find a phone booth and that one could conclude from this evidence that people are no longer interested in communicating by phone.  Clearly, the wrong conclusion to draw.

red bubble-shaped phone booth

© 2006 Ben Tesch

Because she pastors a church with many young people in it, she often gets questions from other pastors about how to get young people to come to their churches.  Many of these questions have the air of desperation about them, anxious people asking her how to redecorate their phone booths so that people will use them again.

Well now, preach it, sister.

Irish phone booth

© 2012 Peter Mooney

What a refreshing (though hilarious and sad) image.  What a helpful breath of fresh air in the circular church conversations going on these days.  The takeaway from her observation is that if we are more concerned about the phone booth than the people we hope will use it, we have missed the point.  The phone booth served its purpose in its time.  But why would we keep using resources to clean and repair them on every street corner while every person who walks by is already talking on her own mobile phone? 

People do want to communicate by phone and they do long for real and intimate and holy connection, with one another and with God.  They just don’t look for a phone booth – no matter how beautifully renovated and decorated – to do so. 

Our phone booth days are over but that’s no cause for desperation or despair.  What’s next?  What is the phone booth you need to retire?  What does your faith community offer to a hungry world?  Is it still sitting in a phone booth waiting for them to show up and find it?  How do the people who peer into your church doors find their way in to what you can offer?  How do you change the way you speak and offer so they can hear and partake?  How do you change the way you listen to who and where people are right now?  How do you receive the gifts they bring?

black and white phone booths.  hell's kitchen, ny

© 2013 Jim Pennucci

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photo credits:  Click each photo for a link back to its original page.  Mooney licensed under CC BY-SA 2.0.  All others licensed under CC BY 2.0.

 

Arches, Aspens, and Another Pause

I didn’t plan ahead.  Thank God.  Grand Lake Colorado

I didn’t mean to leave you hanging without any posts or set-to-publish pieces ready to go, but I just took a break.  I followed my own last post and took a sacred pause.  A long one. 

sunset near Windows, Arches National Park, Utah

Rosy clouds, red arches, pewter blue sky

 

 

Balanced Rock and others at Arches National Park, Utah

If these keep silent, even the stones will cry out. (Luke 19: 40)

I wrote in my journal a lot during our sojourn through Colorado and Utah.  I reveled in the aspen trees and walked among the arches but I’m still mulling and reflecting and not quite ready to write for public consumption.  So I’m just popping in to say “hi” and share a few words and images.

beneath sand dune arch

Cool in the shadows, Sand Dune Arch

I hope these can be a sacred pause for you today.

aspen trees against orange building

Aspens, my favorite tree.

What’s a sacred pause?

shino glaze, center stripe bowls

Sacred pauses give us breathing space and a moment of connection with God.  April Yamasaki encourages us to look for and cultivate those pauses in the midst of daily living, transforming our ideas about what “counts” as spiritual practice.  Today I’m visiting with April, author of Sacred Pauses, at her website. 

She has included me as part of her interview series, where I’m reflecting on the practice of making pottery as a sacred pause. 

What’s it like to keep company with clay over time?  And how is this similar to the way God keeps company with us?  I hope you’ll click over and join our conversation.  Come on, take a moment to breathe with us.

Standby Recipes, The Final Edition: You want me to make pesto?

I started this Standby Recipes series to encourage folks who are swamped or inexperienced to prepare some real food, at least every once in a while.  I wanted you to just start somewhere and to feel confident messing around in the kitchen.  Well, I think you may be ready to fly, little birdies!  Moosewood Restaurant Ithaca New York

Before I end the series with this post, I’ll mention again that Smitten Kitchen is an excellent site for browsing and finding your own go-to standby recipes.  Another favorite for weeknight meals is a book called Simple Suppers: Fresh Ideas for the Weeknight Table by The Moosewood Collective.  If you read through the “Well-Stocked Pantry” appendix and take some of the tips to heart, you will always have enough of the right ingredients on hand to pull together a quick, tasty, healthy meal.

Here is one of the many recipes I use from Simple Suppers, for Fettuccine with Walnut Pesto.  I know, I know.  Pesto is something you buy in a plastic container at the store or order at restaurants.  It seems hard or too fancy or way too time-consuming.  Not so!  This is the recipe to prove you wrong and to demonstrate that you don’t have to wait for summer basil, either.

Fettuccine with Walnut Pesto

Cook 1 lb of fettuccine or other pasta according to the instructions on the box.  When it’s done, drain it but reserve about 1 cup of the pasta-cooking water.

While that is cooking, toast 1 c walnuts, keeping a close eye on them so they do not burn.  Set aside to cool.

Put all of these items into a food processor or blender and puree until smooth: 

  • 1 c chopped fresh or canned tomatoes (If it is any time but the height of summer tomato season, use diced, canned tomatoes.)
  • 2 garlic cloves
  • 1 T extra-virgin olive oil
  • ½ t salt

Add walnuts to the blender/food processor and process until the mixture is well-mixed and the consistency is a lumpy paste.  (If you are using fresh tomatoes you may need to add 1-2 T water.)

Put the drained pasta into a large serving bowl and toss it with the walnut pesto, adding the reserved cooking water as necessary to make it saucy enough.  Top it with fresh chopped basil and grated parmesan cheese, if desired.

The whole thing might take you 20-30 minutes the first time, but I bet you can whittle that down to 10-15 with practice.  Bon appétit!

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photo credit:  © 2007 Michael Sauers, CC BY-NC-SA 2.0

Getting on the Right Side of History

logo for the Reconciling Ministries Network

I’m pretty sure that on a certain Friday a couple of thousand years ago most people would have thought Jesus was “on the wrong side of history.”  Even that Sunday, most people still thought he had failed, story over.  But this isn’t the story Christians tell, which is why I find the persistent use of the phrase “getting on the right side of history” to be misguided.

It’s been a full week of astounding, surprising, maddening Supreme Court decisions.  I worry over the implications and battles ahead as we deal with the disintegration of the Voting Rights Act.  I celebrate the next day’s decision and the implications and new hope ahead as we live into a broader, more beautiful understanding of marriage.

My church is still arguing about sexuality.  There is currently a movement called An Altar for All, asking clergy and laity to sign on to support celebrating all marriages by our clergy and in our churches.  In my Conference there was a lot of buzz around this leading up to our Annual Conference two weeks ago.  After last Wednesday’s Supreme Court decisions, on Facebook I saw a United Methodist colleague calling our church to “get on the right side of history.”

I happen to agree with him on the sexuality issues and on the fact that if we keep going the way we are we may be seen by everyone else as having been “on the wrong side of history.”  I’m annoyed and heartbroken by where we are and I have been for a long, long time.  But the troubling part of his (and many others’ statements like this) is that they imply that our Christian priority is to be “right” and, most importantly, to be seen as right by the culture at large.  I don’t know that this is his (or anyone’s) intention, but the repeated use of that phrase suggests it.

I want us to advocate and fight for full inclusion in the life of the church for all people because it’s what the example of Jesus calls us to do – regardless of the scorn and loss of membership we might incur now and regardless of whether anyone in or outside of the church agrees that it’s the “right side of history.”  It’s Jesus’ side and that’s our priority.  Jesus is the justification, the plumb line by which we measure, not some future pronouncement by the culture.

This is not an argument, but a lament.  I know that there are good, faithful people who disagree on this issue and I don’t want to convince or debate right now.  I simply want to express my deep, faithful yearning for our change of heart.  And I want us to stop worrying about history’s “right side.”

The story Christians tell is about listening to God and following in the wake of the Holy Spirit, even and especially when it is at odds with what is conventionally considered “right.”  It’s not about being “right” or “first to be right.”  It’s about faithfulness and about being man/woman and Christian enough to change course when you realize your mistake and your sin.  At the moment, it seems that the rest of the culture is going in the direction I hear God calling.  I want my church to hear it, too, and follow.

Brought to You by the Number 5

RevGalBlogPals web ring posts a group blog prompt each Friday.  Though I’ve been a member of the ring for a couple of months, this is my first time playing.  Here we go!

Whoosh! My calendar is packed. And June is almost gone! There’s the old saying, “Bad luck comes in threes” but I’ve decided that “Busy-ness comes in fives!” So this week we’ll take things five-at-a-time. Tell me:


1. Five flowers you’d like in a bouquet or in your garden:

Daisies.  Simple, homey, earthy, elegant.  There were a lot of daisies in my wedding bouquet.

Lavender.  It flowers so I’m counting it.  Fragrant and purple – what more do you need?

Peonies.  Old-fashioned and charmingly droopy.

Knock Out roses.  Plentiful, wafting scent, and apparently harder to mangle and kill than regular roses.  That holds promise for me.

Crape myrtle.  Again, I’m counting it because it flowers.  Leggy and pleasantly pruned.  Though I have to admit I always want to spell it “crepe.”


2. Five books you want to read (or re-read):

Desert Solitaire by Edward Abbey (re-read)

Friends for the Journey by Luci Shaw and Madeleine L’Engle

The Flame Throwers by Rachel Kushner

And the Mountains Echoed by Haled Hosseini

Pilgrim at Tinker Creek by Annie Dillard (re-read)


3. Five places you want to visit:

Kauai, Hawaii

Cinque Terre, Italy

Anywhere in Alaska

Australia

A remote campground I know in Montana, with my husband (I hope he comes on the other trips, too.)


4. Five people you’d invite for tea/coffee/beer and pizza:

Jeff Daniels

The Car Talk brothers (I’m counting them as one.)

Alice Munro

Wendell Berry

Sarah Polley


5. Five chores or tasks you’d gladly give to someone else:

Cleaning the bathroom

Cleaning the kitchen sink and strainers

Mopping

Raking/dealing with fallen leaves

Washing out my clay-splattered pottery clothes after class so they are clean enough to put in the laundry!


BONUS: A five ingredient recipe! (This is harder than it sounds!)

Fail!  This is, indeed, hard.  My best contenders are the 6-ingredient recipe I posted earlier today or my veggie revision of this Giada recipe.  Making just the bean dip, you follow her instructions using these 5 ingredients:  olive oil, canned artichoke hearts, cannellini beans, cheese, lemon zest and juice.  (I often leave out the basil.)  But then you still have to add salt and pepper.  Alas.