"Between melting and freezing

The soul's sap quivers."

Valentine's Day/Ash Wednesday, and Little Gidding

This year, two holidays, Ash Wednesday and Valentine's Day, occur together. It can't be the only time this has happened, although the coincidence is certainly not frequent. But since it HAS now happened, one can consider whether the coincidence has meaning.

At first blush, the celebrations seem diametrically opposed: Valentine's Day, in modern observance, is a day of celebrating the gifts and joys of love - whether it's the fondness expressed in exchanges of small cards in classrooms or the more significant exchanges of flowers, chocolate, champagne, and kisses among the more mature; Ash Wednesday observance includes wearing dust, fasting, and contemplating one's own death.

On second, thought, however, Valentine's Day and Ash Wednesday do share an important component - one, it may be argued, that is central to the themes of both observances. And that's the element of hope. We can easily see that Valentine's Day is a celebration of hope: Will you be my Valentine? Will you be mine? Will you accept these flowers, these sweets, these good wishes? The hope of budding romance (or at least a more cordial relationship) is the aim in all of these common sentiments of the Day.

It's a bit harder to see the hope that underlies Ash Wednesday, for never was there a day so laden with gloominess. It's an Eeyore-sort-of-day: Woe is me, for I am a mere mortal! The ashes mark us for burial; the words with which they are administered chill one to the soul, "Remember, man; you are dust, and to dust you shall return." It's the curse of the expulsion from Eden, and I often imagined (in my youth) that I could see the Inferno Dante described open up at my feet as I walked back to my pew. One wrong step ... and down I'd go.

What actually saves us from that tumble? It's hope. Yup, that same hope that leaves would-be lovers trembling at their own daring is the hope that illuminates drear Ash Wednesday. Yes, in a theological sense, Lent points us on to Easter. But Easter seems a long way off in the middle of winter. The hope of Ash Wednesday, like the hope of Valentine's Day, is what makes each new day progressively more bearable as the world whirls towards the vernal equinox.

I am certainly not the only one to have noticed that these two observances share common underpinnings. Each year, for example, my Ash Wednesday observance includes a close reading of the magnificent T.S. Eliot poem Ash-Wednesday. It's a long and somewhat difficult read, encompassing as it does so much medieval and Marian imagery. But the poem perfectly expresses (at least to me) the arc of Lent - from a stony resistance at the beginning ("Because I do not hope to turn again ...") to the melting and growth of Spring in the heartbreaking final stanzas. Eliot completely understood that Lent's foundation is hope. All you have to do to see that he understood the quivering hope of Valentine's Day as well is to turn to Portrait of a Lady, and read,
              
                               But what have I, but what have I, my friend,
                               To give you, what can you receive from me?
                               Only the friendship and the sympathy
                               Of one about to reach her journey's end ...

(Yeah, go ahead and read the rest of the poem; it's an amazing miniature of suppressed longing. Isn't that Valentine's Day in a nutshell?)

This year, however, my reading at the beginning of Lent (and in the evening of Valentine's Day) was from another of Eliot's masterpieces, the Four Quartets. These have been my favorite Eliot works (along with Murder in the Cathedral) since I first read them, in high school. East Coker is where I usually go when I seek out the Quartets, but this week I turned to the final poem of the four, Little Gidding. Its beginning seemed to perfectly express the restless unease of late winter, the desire to burst forth and grow and bloom - which would happen except for the relentless icy cold that still grips the white world:
     
                                Midwinter spring is its own season
                                Sempiternal though sodden towards sundown,
                                Suspended in time, between pole and tropic.
                                When the short day is brightest, with frost and fire,
                                The brief sun flames the ice, on ponds and ditches,
                                In windless cold that is the heart's heat,
                                Reflecting in a watery mirror
                                A glare that is blindness in the early afternoon ...
                                Where is the summer, the unimaginable
                                Zero summer?

This morning, after a surprise nine inches of new snow, the last question is most apt. But these snowy mornings will become fewer very soon - by mid-morning, the shoveled walks had become bare and almost dry under the strengthening sun. It's coming. Wait - in hope.


                                   We shall not cease from exploration
                                And the end of all our exploring
                                Will be to arrive where we started
                                And know the place for the first time.
                                                                 - T.S. Eliot, Little Gidding (1942)

Winter, Biddeford Pool, Maine

Japanese peonies sheltered from the winter winds. Photograph by Kenichi Yamaguchi. Thanks, Kenichi-san!

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Garden Projects and OffMill

On a very hopeful note - mid-February is just the time to begin thinking about gardening in the Spring. Although the garden boxes are still covered with snow, and the rose garden is still insulated with layers of balsam boughs from before Christmas, I cannot help but think about the season ahead.

Last summer, OffMill became a brand as well as an (occasional) blog about life, letters, cooking, and flower gardening in southern Maine:

At the Kennebunk Farmer's Market, selling bouquets of lilac and peonies, as well as milk-and-honey soaps and Bee Papers

                            
Selling at the Market was - quite simply - a gas. People really enjoyed the flowers, the bouquet wrappings, and (especially) the Bee Papers (homemade paper embedded with seeds for plants that attract pollinators.) I sold out of the Papers and bouquets at every Market I attended.

This year, then, planning for the garden encompasses more than choosing what vegetables and flowers look best where. I have been busy thinking about what flowers work best for market bouquets, and what other "bee-friendly products" might make their way to market as well.

This year, I've taken a lot of inspiration from this book from Floret Farm (in Oregon), in which intensive growth methods are examined and explained:

Stay tuned for how the plans turn out! And, in the meantime, you can visit OffMill.com to see what's coming for this Market season.

One project I really would like to explore is a dedicated herb garden, much like the gorgeous one pictured here, from Strawbery Banke in Portsmouth, New Hampshire:

Note the woven fence and the water element (with floating flowers!) in the center. Yes, this is a garden dream, but a do-able one, I think.

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Crustimoney Proseedcake

 
This Spring, the Victoria and Albert Museum in London is celebrating Winnie-the-Pooh and all of his friends in a magnificent exhibition called Exploring a Classic (go to the link above right now to experience some of its delights!) 

Since I am a devoted and unrepentant Pooh fan, I asked my beloved for a special Valentine's Day gift: the wonderful book that accompanies the exhibition: 

It is exquisite. I love it. 💝 It is also a wonderful accompaniment to the recently-released film, "Goodbye, Christopher Robin," which I beg you to see (it's available on demand; can Netflix be far behind?)

Now, any fan of Pooh knows that he credits himself with "very little brain" (but he's just being modest.) When Owl begins speaking of a "customary procedure," Bear meekly asks him to explain, "What's crustimoney proseedcake?"

Now, there's a number of ways to answer that question! One I am sure that Bear and the Piglet and their friends would enjoy is the following, which is a lovely moist cake with a surprising flavor:

Crustimoney Proseedcake (Grapefruit-Poppyseed Loaf with Yogurt Glaze)

 Preheat oven to 350 degrees. Spray a loaf pan with cooking spray, line it with parchment paper, and spray again. Zest one whole grapefruit, and mix the zest into 1 cup granulated sugar with your fingers until the sugar is moist and smells of grapefruit. Add the sugar to a stand mixer bowl (or to a large bowl) along with 2 eggs, 1/3 cup vegetable oil (I use canola), and 1 teaspoon vanilla extract. Mix on high speed for about 3 minutes, until the batter is thick and light in color.  While the mixer is working, whisk together 1 1/2 cups all-purpose flour, 2 teaspoons baking powder, and 3/4 teaspoon kosher salt in a small bowl. Add half the dry ingredient mix to the egg-sugar emulsion in the mixer, and mix on low speed. Add 3/4 cup plain Greek yogurt to the mixer, and mix on low speed. Follow with the rest of the dry ingredients. To this mix add 5-6 tablespoons fresh grapefruit juice (squeezed from the fruit you zested) and 1 tablespoon blue poppy seeds. Scrape the batter into the loaf pan and smooth the top. Bake for about 1 hour, or until a skewer inserted near the center of the cake comes out clean. Set loaf pan on a rack, and prick the cake all over with a skewer. Drizzle 3 - 4 tablespoons grapefruit juice over the cake, and allow to cool slightly. Using the parchment paper, lift cake out of the pan, and allow to cool completely. Meanwhile, make a glaze from 1/2 cup confectioner's sugar, 1 tablespoon Greek yogurt, 1 teaspoon water, and a pinch of salt. Dribble the glaze over the cake, and top with an additional sprinkle of poppy seeds.

I think Pooh would enjoy this "Proseedcake" when it's time for a little something!

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Some Flowers

One of the smartest things I did last fall, I think, was to stash a bag of daffodil bulbs in the refrigerator. They didn't take up much room. I potted them up a couple of weeks ago, and ... voila! 

Happy Midwinter Spring! 

Third Week in August

Late August already - and turning the corner towards the start of the new academic year, and the fresh season of autumn.  This time of year is always really difficult for me.  On the one hand, I am looking forward to the feeling of renewal and purpose that the beginning of the semester instills, along with the new rhythms of the academic schedule. There is a heady feeling to it - almost as if anything is possible and every day can being new accomplishment and fulfillment.

But then there is the letting go of summer. And that is what is hard.

Leaving Southern Maine is leaving home. There is no mistaking that. Taking up life (for most of the week, anyway) in the city is exhilarating, but my soul resides in Kennebunk, off Mill Street.

The last couple of weeks of August must therefore be celebrated.

And that's exactly what happened, at the end of the week! Paul and I went off to Cummington, Massachusetts to visit family, to renew acquaintance with his family farm, and (most of all) to enjoy the Cummington Fair!

The Fair is almost 150 years old, and still going strong. It's at once a celebration of agricultural life and an end-of-summer revel, complete with corny entertainment, a cheesy midway, and tons of junk food. Fresh french fries with malt vinegar are a must, as is soft-serve ice cream and greasy sandwiches.  The oxen and horse draws are prime attractions. The soft bleats of the sheep and moos of the cows in the barns during the daytime give way to the crashes and screams of the crowd at the nightly demolition derbies. The antique tractor and car parade draws the largest crowds of all, it seems. What fun!!

The first day of classes is still days and days away.  There's still time to enjoy the green hills and blue cloud-filled skies, or the pop of a campfire as the stars appear overhead. Time to wish on a shooting star and listen for the hoot of an owl. Time to eat and laugh and relax in the shelter of family.

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Some of the color of the Cummington Fair

Looking east from the farm. The glow of the sunset on the opposite side of the sky is reflected in the clouds.

The Garden

This week's best flowers

These aren't from my garden, but they are certainly lovely. This is a border of bright zinnias at the observation building on Mt. Sugarloaf, in South Deerfield, Massachusetts.

The phlox in bloom.

Lovely roses, in my favorite color, in their second bloom.

Not a lot going on in the garden at the moment, so here is a shot of my pet orchid, a phalaenopsis, which has recently come into bloom again. These blooms will last weeks if I'm careful not to overwater the plant.

Blue lobelia continues to bloom in a Nantucket basket on the porch.

It's clear fall is coming! Small pansies are beginning to bloom again in the midst of the salad greens in this blue bowl.

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An arrangement of backyard flowers: 

For this large arrangement, I chose a shallow birchbark container, fitted with a glass bowl. Since sunflowers and hydrangea are heavy, I used a chunk of well-soaked Oasis and taped it securely into the glass bowl. I keep a block of Oasis around for those times when flowers need to be well-anchored in their container.  In addition to the white hydrangeas and golden "teddy bear" sunflowers, I used two small ears of sweet corn, partially shucked,  from my miniature corn patch as accents. The lines of the arrangement are defined by branches of white rose of sharon (which look and smell like small gardenias) and the linear, airy blooms of clethra, or sweet pepper bush.

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Recipes for the Week

Gourmet: A Love Story 

The demise of the venerable, splendid, food and lifestyle magazine Gourmet in November of 2009, has been widely mourned, but allow me to add a belated tear or two more to the general lamentation. I loved that magazine. I first encountered it when I lived in what amounted to a rooming house for young women in Boston's Back Bay, when I attended medical/grad school. I was cat-sitting for a neighbor whilst she vacationed in France one spring, and I soon was spending all my free time on her couch (far more comfy than mine) reading her collection of back issues of Gourmet. The magazine changed my entire approach to cooking. Cooking was, until that time, a necessity - something I did two or three times a day to feed my Dad and two brothers, when I still lived at home. But Gourmet slyly suggested that cooking could be more: luxurious, sensuous, an activity that offered the possibility of creativity and accomplishment. Okay, I'm in. 

After my first marriage, I subscribed to Gourmet as a gift to myself and my new husband. My subscription never ended, but my December 2009 issue just - well - never came. It was as if a trusted friend had passed away. 

I have saved many of my favorite issues. Not all - that would be foolish - but many. And every month, I look forward once again to the Gourmet invitation to the culinary life, well-lived. Here's a menu from this summer's back issues. All three recipes are easy and  - yes - luxurious and sensuous. Enjoy. 

Basil Caesar Salad:  Cut several pieces of leftover bread (ciabatta works well) into chunks. Toss the bread chunks with 2 Tbsp. olive oil and salt, and bake in a 375 degree oven until crusty. Stir the croutons once or twice while they are baking.  Meanwhile, process one garlic clove in a food processor until it's chopped. Add one egg, 2 Tbsp. fresh lemon juice, 1 Tbsp. anchovy paste, 1 cup chopped basil, and 1/2 cup chopped parsley. Process, and with the motor running, drizzle 6 Tbsp. olive oil into the bowl. Process basil dressing until emulsified. Chop heads of romaine lettuce, and toss lettuce with croutons, dressing, and 1/2 cup freshly grated Parmesan cheese. Serve immediately. 

Salmon with Citrus-Yogurt Sauce:  For sauce, mix 1 cup plain Greek yogurt, 2 Tbsp. olive oil, 2 Tbsp. water, 1 Tbsp. fresh lime juice, 1 tsp. fresh orange juice, 1 tsp. grated lime zest, 1/2 tsp. grated orange zest, 3/4 tsp. kosher salt, and 1/2 tsp. honey.  This sauce is superb with any grilled or baked fish!  Grill or slow-roast one large salmon filet or four salmon steaks, and serve with the sauce.  For slow-roasting (a superior way of cooking salmon, in my opinion), rub the fish with olive oil, and season well with salt and pepper. Cover the fish tightly with foil, and roast in a pre-heated 300 degree oven for about 30-40 minutes, depending on the size of the filets. The fish should be opaque, but should not be dry.

Raspberry (or Blueberry) Buttermilk Cake:  Preheat oven to 400 degrees, and buter and flour one 9-inch round cake pan. Whisk together 1 cup flour, 1/2 tsp. baking powder, 1/2 tsp. baking soda, and 1/4 tsp. fine salt.  Cream 1 stick softened butter and 2/3 cup granulated sugar until fluffy and pale-colored. A stand mixer will do this best. Beat in 1/2 tsp. vanilla, and then 1 large egg. Add flour mixture alternately with 1 cup well-shaken buttermilk, beginning and ending with the flour. Mix until just combined. Scrape into prepared pan, and scatter 1 cup fresh raspberries (or blueberries) over the top. Sprinkle fruit with 1 1/2 Tbsp. sugar. Bake until a tester comes out clean, about 25 to 30 mintes. Cool slightly, and (if possible) serve while still warm. 

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Late August Repose