Zucchini "pasta"—a low-carb winner for dinner

This striped Latino zucchini is a favorite. We grow one Latino plant, one Black Beauty, the variety typical in produce aisles, and one golden variety. Latino is especially good for "noodles" as it retains more crunch than the others. 

The zucchini floodgate has opened, and we are dealing with up to a dozen every day from three plants. We planted six seeds in three hills, then agonized over which 15 seedlings to pull. We've learned the hard way that all you need is one plant every three feet. Otherwise it is a riot of rowdy giant leaves and aggressive bully fruits shoving one another and then you are forced to dive in to deal with them. Zucchini can get ugly.

We enter the zucchini microcosms at our own risk. Even though we give away more than we use, I learn more every year about how to use this abundance. Since bread, pasta, rice and most grains are off the table, I'm always looking for alternatives. I love marinara and other pasta sauces, but much prefer to eat them over something. I seriously do not even LIKE pasta anymore. It makes me feel crappy and bloated, as does wheat-based pizza crust and even rice. So I'm looking at zukes with a new perspective.

Zucchini works for pizza dough and lasagna. But spaghetti-type noodles? Let's try it. Of course, I'm not the first to think of this. Nothing is new under the sun, right? But here's what I did and how and wow, it was surprisingly good and will definitely be repeated.

How to make zucchini noodles—and use them for dinner

Select zucchini that is at least 10 inches long. Grate with a cheese grater lengthwise into "noodles." Put into a colander, sprinkle with salt, toss, then drain for 20 minutes or more. Squeeze liquid out before advancing to the next step, which is to saute in a bit of olive oil for a few minutes until "al dente". Don't worry about rinsing off the salt—it mostly goes away as  the liquid drains.  How much zucchini to grate? Figure on one 10-incher per person. Don't include  the inside where seeds are forming. 

Zucchini noodles ready for sauce. They're not at all mushy. These were made with the
Black Beauty variety, which is easily grown and may be purchased in almost any grocery. I sauteed them
 in olive oil and butter with a bit of minced garlic for a few minutes, until they were al dente.

 This is the last of the 2011 frozen marinara sauce, to which I added a bit of this year's basil and
some of Paul's serrano sauce for a little kick. He deserves a little kick himself. 

On the side was broccoli, basil, and sweet onions from the garden and store-bought cauliflower  tossed with a great garlic/sesame seasoning mix I purchased at the Grants Pass Growers' Market with a Candy's Farm label. Unfortunately, Candy's Farm, Salem, Oregon, doesn't appear to have a web presence. But, if you get a chance,  they make a great blend of roasted garlic, lemon grass, sesame seeds, veggie flavoring, ginger, and salt.
 I melted a little mozzarella cheese on top.

Dinner's on! Homemade marinara with a little sausage over zucchini noodles topped with grated Parmesan and a big side of broccoli, cauliflower and onions seasoned by Candy's Farm.

Road Trip Tips

After one entire week! away from home, garden, and elderly mom duties, I am ready to dispense advice. Ignore at your peril. 

1. If the weather sucks, follow the sun. Hint: it's usually south.

We'd planned a bike ride and campout in Northern California. Surly clouds gave credence to the weather forecast—rain, hail, thunderstorms. Nope. All four of us agreed to abandon that plan and head toward Redding and its sunny forecast. 
2. Let others stew in die-hard plans.

Laurie and Steve soaking in the sun near Lake Sonoma.

Some stalwart friends would have toughed it out and slogged through the rain. I love them, but I'm glad they weren't there to say, Hell, let's do it anyway! This time PK and I were with Eugenites Laurie and Steve, and Laurie is an ardent sun seeker with extreme gloom aversion. 
Whatever's happening in the sky is reflected in her face and demeanor. Why does she live in rain-drenched Eugene? She's working on that. In the meantime, she leaned south, and so we went. Happily.
3. Look for the unexpected gifts of going where you didn't intend to go and doing what you didn't intend to do.
So we ended up in Redding, where we discovered a great bike path along the Sacramento River in the Turtle Bay Exploration Park and lots of good camping, hiking, boating and swimming in the Whiskeytown National Recreation Area just 10 miles out of town. We'll definitely return for the biking and also may entice grandson Noah and his parents to Redding's hot dang water park. The beautiful Sundial Bridge alone is worth the trip. 
4. If it rains/snows/spits regardless of your efforts to escape, put on your raincoat, your best attitude, and shut up. As Scarlett said, Tomorrow is another day. 
We had some sprinkles during dinner prep camping at Whiskeytown. We turned up our collars and swilled more wine. Life was good. Still is. 

5. Pack lighter than light.

Four-Wheel pop-up is a super deluxe and comfy unit but does not accommodate excess. 

 This is a constant challenge, especially since we now travel in a small pick-up camper. Small is the operative word when talking about that camper.  I confess to toting more than needed and rummaging through 15 garments when half as many would have been enough. 
6. No one cares how you look, and looking good is a big part of over-packing. That and planning for every contingency. Relax.
Everyday advice. Not just for camping. Without anyone to compare yourself to, who cares? Only the people who want to look better than you do give a rip about whether your socks match. Screw em. 
7. Carry more maps than you think you'll need.
PK and I added "Atlas" to our always-bring packing list. 
8. Carry a smart phone.
We don't have one, but we will as soon as our phone contract expires. Thanks to Steve for supplying instant information via iPhone. In the meantime, our GPS unit came in handy, and sometimes our iPad, which is pretty worthless in the sun.
9. Bring a smart person, someone who likes to drive and isn't too opinionated or set in his/her ways.
 PK and I have been married for close to 40 years, and I am so lucky that he is the smart person. True, he is opinionated. But he's a great traveler, and he prefers to drive. I'll keep him handy for the next trip. 

PK and me near the end of a happy road trip hike.

Healdsburg host and blade runner/road warrior, Lanny says, Right on. Life is SO good.
Go with the flow, baby.

The Garden at Summer Solstice

From the garden today, basil, a sweet onion, and the season's first zucchini!

A memorable summer solstice was in the Grand Canyon in 1994. PK was the trip leader for our private group of families. Sixteen people, 18 days. Half of our entourage was age 16 or younger. Our sons Quinn and Chris were 15 and 8, respectively. Quinn and Sarah created a solstice symbol in the sand at our camp, red cliffs soaring overhead. Mark and Susan Goracke attempted to create pizza without crust. Or a working stove. How to top that?

Today topped it. Why?

Because today is now. And now is what we have. And really, today is all that matters.We have wonderful memories, but memories don't sustain. They may even hold us back. 

Today is summer solstice 2012. I was ruminating about the Grand Canyon while digging in our garden to water and eradicate weeds. Amidst the tomatoes, at 90 degrees, I laid low, literally, and snipped soil-skimming tomato leaves. If you don't know, tomato leaves on the ground are not good.

Just above, a nest of baby swallows twittered.  (Not online, however) A bit higher, adult swallows dive bombed. I was literally on my back a few feet from the nesting box originally created for bluebirds, but which swallows have commandeered. Swallows are fearsome, brave, spirited, and wonderful. I laughed and shouted as they tried to clip me.

This is what you don't expect from gardening, but what you can rejoice in if it happens. Lying helpless on the ground and having birds try to scare you away. Seeing the natural world as if you weren't even there. (Glad it wasn't a cougar or grizzly!)

I didn't have my camera, but will try to capture. Alas, the fledglings will soon leave the nest and the drama will be over. The swallows won't give a damn about me. I probably won't get a photo. But for today I have this memory of tiny birds with giant spirits. And a bit more. 

A major random volunteer lettuce harvested.

A black beauty zucchini in the making.

Leeks about to bust into flower. 

The first sunflower of 2012. 

Among the first raspberries.

The end of the major strawberry crop and the start of broccoli.

Thank God for blueberries. It'll be a trick to shield them from  devil birds. 

Garlic scape pesto

A garlic scape curls in on itself. Cutting them is advised so the  energy goes into the garlic heads.
In the meantime, garlic scapes can be enjoyed in a variety of ways. Or so they say.

Something new, to me at least. Garlic scapes—the curlicue thingies that develop near the end of garlic's time in the soil. Apparently, they are a delicacy. All kinds of blogs and cooking sites feature them. I don't know how I learned these snaky-looking do-dads have a name or a culinary purpose. For years and years I've broke them off and tossed them into the compost. Now it appears I was a fool. Not a surprise. Been a fool before.

Scapes right out of the garden, sitting on a lawn chair. Waiting for a G&T? 

Garlic scapes are not readily available except at farmers' markets and upscale natural food stores, and only in season. They probably cost a fortune. But we have them in the garden as the garlic approaches maturity, so I decided to try them. Our menu tonight: big garden salad, broccoli quiche, and garlic scape pesto. Here's a recipe I found online. I altered it quite a bit, mainly by adding more olive oil and cheese plus some basil and parsley. It's a basic pesto formula. And tasty! It was great on the quiche and would be fantastic on fresh tomatoes. If you have the scapes, give it a try.Or look up other scape ideas. Scapes taste mild garlic/tangy and work well as a pesto base, but I hear they are also wonderful in stir fries.
Note: Next evening I tried garlic scape pesto with sauteed chard and a eggs. Yum!


Garlic Scape Pesto
As always, use your judgement and taste buds to fine tune

10 -12 garlic scapes
1/2 cup fresh basil
2-3 sprigs fresh parsley
1/2 cup finely grated Parmesan or other savory hard cheese
1/3 cup lightly toasted slivered almonds, walnuts, or pine nuts
1/2-3/4 cup olive oil (I used at least 3/4 cup)
Salt to taste
Hot pepper flakes (optional)

Process the scapes, basil and parsley until finely chopped. Add nuts and cheese, and drizzle the olive oil into the processor until you've achieved the desired consistency. Add salt and pepper flakes to taste and whirr a few more seconds. Use immediately, or store refrigerated and covered with a film of plastic wrap. May be frozen air tight for a couple months.

When something dies under your house, just go outside

I'm shivering in my office. The rest of house is toasty, but the office window is open wide, and chill seeps in. A vent beneath my desk is open to the crawl space under the house, and something died  there. Right next to my vent, evidently. A bouquet of aromatic roses and a scented candle do not touch the stench, nor does the cold air from the open window.

Roses brought into the house to counteract the dead rat smell did not work. Look good, though.

Outside the fragrant flowers and erect young vegetables are bursting with life and sweetness. The strawberries and blueberries ripen, birds swoop and flit between the feeders and the garden, all ringed by a pretty country fence and surrounded by green mountains. We can see a smattering of homes on the hillside across the valley. In our neighbors' pastures, miniature horses frolic, and a field of ripe hay awaits cutting. Next door, a rosy-cheeked toddler delights her beautiful and loving young parents. Perfect.

But under our house, death.  There could be a dozen corpses under there, for all we know. PK has been waging a poison war against the gophers and moles that are tunneling through the garden and even under paving stones. Some tunnels lead under the house.

A gopher or mole did this, dislodging dirt and sand under
paving stones, which, incidentally, had just been repaired!

This isn't the first time a rodent or two or three has croaked just a few feet out of sight and reach. Several years ago PK inch-wormed his way to a far corner of the crawl space to retrieve the rotting rat  that revolted all who entered. No more crawl-space inch-worming for PK, and certainly not for moi. We'll open more windows or hire somebody with a hazmat suit. In the meantime, we'll go outside!

NEWS FLASH! Minutes after I wrote the above, a PEST EXTERMINATOR knocked on our door. Unbelievable that he showed up. In my university English lit classes, such an event would be considered deus ex machina, whereby a seemingly unsolvable problem is suddenly and abruptly solved with the contrived and unexpected intervention of some new event, character, ability, or object. (Wikipedia).

This type of intervention can't be written without peril, but when it happens in real life, you just rejoice and marvel. We hired the same guy last year to close up the crawl spaces, and he just happened by to see if we needed anything. At exactly the most opportune moment.


Oh my God! Yes!

He donned mask and coveralls and squeezed through a crawlspace entryway. Beneath my office, right below the vent, he found a fetid seeping rat carcass, which he shoved into a plastic bag and drove off with in his big black truck.
A couple days later, life is good and air is fresh here at my computer. In addition, our deliverance guy found and blocked the pest entry. We paid him $100 and everybody was happy, except the neighborhood rodents. 
A few country-living photos follow attesting to the general wholesomeness of the lifestyle. 
But David Lynch knows, and I know, that death, decay, and evil can strike—or seep—at any moment. For now, I enjoy the wholesomeness and hope for the best. Thank you, exterminator guy. Thank you, universe.

Out here, a few tractor fumes hardly interfere with the fresh air. 

Volunteer poppies delight the eye and spirit.

This is the first serious greens harvest of the season. By "serious" I mean we can't possibly eat all that chard and kale, and I must clean it, rip it into pieces, steam it, and shove it into freezer bags. I''ll be glad I did as chard and kale are winter staples.  The onions? The very first sweet onions thinned this season. 

It's difficult not to admire a vegetable that emerges from rocks. Go chard!!

The faithful perennials make me glad.

I love this rose bush. 

The late spring/early summer garden a couple weeks ago. Not a whiff of dead rat out here.
But as David Lynch and I know, death, decay and evil are never far away. I know we're not the only ones who notice.

Salad for dinner- again!

With smoky tri tip, grilled asparagus, caramelized onions, fresh cilantro, cheese and loads of crisp greens,
salad for dinner is all you'll need. The pinkish dabs are chipotle sauce. Recipes below.

At least once or twice a week, sometimes more often, we have salad for dinner, especially in the spring/early summer when greens are plentiful, tender and sweet. Salad as dinner sounds virtuous, but it isn't. Our salads are decadent, filling, nutritious, and delish!  I could barely finish the one pictured. I think it was all the grilled/caramelized onions that did it. As a carb watcher, I realize that onions are fairly carbaceous (new word?), but onions at the tail end of their storage life beg to be eaten. Ever heard an onion beg? It's pitiful. Bread can whine and be ignored, but not homegrown onions about to sprout and melt down.

This year's onion crop was planted from starts on April 23. On the right, sweet varieties that we'll begin thinning/eating soon. On the left, "keeper" onions. Down the middle, a shallow trench of compost. Onions like to eat.

We had softball-sized keeper onions left over from last season (!) until about a week ago when I had to toss the last one into the compost. It was literally weeping. Breaking down. Why couldn't you eat me? I had no answer. 

At the start of the grilling process. The asparagus is pulled first, then the peppers,
and when they're browned, the onions. Cool before using on salad.

A great way to use near-death onions is to slice them into thick rounds, marinate them, and grill til nearly caramelized. Also on the grill for this salad - fresh asparagus, also marinated, but removed from the heat while still tender/crisp, and store-bought sweet peppers.

General salad-for-dinner guidelines follow. The only thing to really embed into your brain is don't stress about how much fat is in the dressing, the avocados, the cheese, or the meat. Really. Just forget about the fat and enjoy how great it tastes. Skip the garlic bread, of course. You will be thinner in the morning.

Salad for dinner in a nutshell
You'll need greens, veggies, protein, and some kind of dressing.
Greens - fresh from the garden if possible. If not, there's a lot to be said for boxed or bagged ready- to-eat greens. Figure on two or three generous handfuls per person. Greens include all lettuces (except why bother with iceburg?), spinach, cilantro, mustard greens,  bok choy, etc.
Other veggies - I generally chop cabbage, kale, chard,  broccoli and/or cauliflower as about a quarter of the salad.  Avocados are used throughout the winter and early spring. Veggies change as the summer garden offers up tomatoes, cukes, zukes, beets, and so on. Any veggies on hard may be used: carrots, asparagus, celery, whatever. Greens and veggies are least 90-95 percent of what's on your plate. Oh, the joy of life without bread!
Protein 
Our second salad-for-dinner this week didn't involve the grill, but a Costco rotisserie chicken, fresh asparagus, and one small avocado for each salad. Other protein choices include smoked fish, tuna salad, any thinly sliced cooked/smoked meats or poultry (but not processed meats), hard-boiled eggs. Cheese is mostly a condiment. I like either feta or Parmesan. Vegetarians could use grilled or baked and seasoned tofu, more cheese, more eggs, or whatever protein they prefer.


Laurie's Sesame Dressing and Marinade
My friend Laurie served this to me at least 20 years ago, and I had to have the recipe.
I've made variations of this for at least two decades. It is definitely my salad dressing of choice and it is always on hand.
6-8 cloves fresh garlic
1/2 cup olive oil
1/3 cup toasted sesame oil
1/3 cup soy sauce
1/3 cup worcestershire sauce
1/3 cup balsamic vinegar, rice vinegar, lemon juice, or other acidic liquid
2 Tbsp. dijon or other mustard
sweetener to taste— I use a dash of Stevia
a dash of white pepper for a little kick

Directions:
Use a food processor. Peel the garlic and process til finely minced. Add all other ingredients, then process until the oils are emulsified. The oil will separate after the dressing sits for awhile, but it is easily  mixed with a twirl of the spoon. Works great for dressing a salad or marinating veggies for the grill or even steak or chicken.

Chipotle Sauce

2-3 cubes frozen chipotle cubes - or 2-3 canned chipotles in adobo sauce, minced
2/3 c mayo (more or less)
2/3 c sour cream (more or less)
2/3 c plain yogurt
2-4  tsp. lemon or lime juice.
2-3 tsp serrano sauce or garlic/chili sauce 
1-2 tsp. cumin Mix and serve over, or on the side, with grilled meats, fish, veggies, eggs, or atop soups or stews.

A dull day turned delicious—Chicken, Chard, Cauliflower, Chipotle Soup

A so-good impromptu super low-carb soup on a dull day turned delicious. That dollop in the middle?

The ever-present chipotle sauce. See below.

How many quart bags of chard did I freeze last year?

These are a year old and still good. Even though I felt sorta stupid not

using the fresh chard from the garden. Bird in hand thing. 

But more importantly, the grew-that-weeded that-picked it-froze it- going-to-eat-it thing.

I woke up feeling blah. My day was looking like the same ole same ole. The barometer was down and the weather blustery. Motivation eluded me. Felt flat. Worthless. What the hell am I doing living? I brewed coffee. Kicked around the house. Thought about doing yoga. Didn't. Thought about going to see elderly mother. Did. Held arthritic hands with her and others at her assisted living home. When I'm there, I think about how far I am from being there myself. Twenty years? Thirty? The thing is, it won't be that long. Twenty or 30 years is a flash, as anyone over 60 recognizes.

The last of 2011's green beans. Bye bye!

I forced myself into the garden. Sky was spitting, wind biting. I fell to my knees in the blueberries, pulling weeds from around berry-heavy bushes. I don't know the names of the weeds. But I killed them. I wasn't apologetic. Take that, you bastard! I wrested them from the soil and tossed them into the grass. I pruned berry limbs that were on the ground. I rearranged the peas along the fence behind the berries. I reattached the prayer flags. I forgot about feeling bad. It was 5 p.m. I thought about dinner.

A few whole chipotle peppers bubbling in chicken broth.

Dried tomatoes. Killer sweet.

On "blah" days, infrequent as they mercifully are, I don't think much about cooking, and writing is in another room, one with the heat off and the shutters closed.  But I was perking up. Dinner! What can I make? What can I write? I'm back!  How the hell does that happen? I suppose it's a matter of will. It's forcing yourself to move when you don't feel like moving and create when you don't feel like creating and just getting your mind off yourself and out of gloom and into thinking this: Wow. I'm alive. I'm healthy. I'm lucky. I love people. A few love me. I love life! I'm going to make a freaking kick-ass dinner! And I did.

On my knees in the garden—and also generally in the moment— I clicked off the pantry inventory, head down, pulling weeds like crazy: 1 pkg. of frozen green beans—the last from 2011; frozen 2011 chard; cooked chicken; frozen homemade chicken broth; dried whole chipotle peppers; dried tomatoes; canned serrano sauce; onions and garlic; raw cauliflower; chiptole sauce; sliced fresh avocado; fresh cilantro. Well, hell. No problem. No problem! I love coming back from blah to blast.

It's not like tonight's was the greatest dinner ever. But it was a super tasty repast pulled from our own dried and frozen sources, mostly, plus our canned pepper creations. And also from my flagging psyche. I don't expect anyone will be able to recreate exactly what we had for dinner, although I wish you could. My message time and again, is to go with what you have and trust your culinary instincts. But this was really good, and if you can approximate, go for it!

Low- carb Chicken, Chard, Cauliflower, Chipotle Soup

Enough for four, served with salad and, if you can indulge a few carbs, served over brown rice. Not for me, but PK can throw down the carbs like crazy, so I cook a cup of rice for him every three or four days. To gain weight, he must eat a large bowl of ice cream daily. Plus lots of rice, potatoes, and pasta as were featured in our family meals in pre-low-carb days.

Ingredients

2 Tbsp olive oil or butter
Quart or so chicken broth, canned, frozen, boxed, whatever
Half a medium/large onion, chopped
3-4 cloves garlic, minced
3 or 4 dried chipotle peppers. (Substitute 3 canned in adobo sauce chipotles if you lack dried.)
Large bunch of fresh chard, rinsed and de-stemmed, or box of frozen spinach (I have never seen frozen chard for sale. Why is that? It is so good.) If using frozen spinach, just dump the frozen lump into the soup.
Handful of dried tomatoes—about 3/4 cup.  Or more. In tomato season, try one large ripe fresh.
1 cup sliced green beans (This addition had entirely to do with what I had in the freezer. You can skip the green beans and instead add spinach, zucchini, another green, whatever you have on hand.)
Half a head of large cauliflower, cut into bite-sized pieces
11/2 -2  cups cubed cooked chicken, more or less
Serrano sauce to taste (if you have it)
Garlic/chili sauce to taste (you can easily buy it! And you must. This is essential.)
Salt and pepper to taste
Fresh cilantro as garnish
1 medium avocado, halved and sliced, served atop the soup
Chipotle sauce as desired (and it is SO desired! The sex queen of the kitchen.)
Grated cheese
Directions
Saute the onions and garlic in oil or butter. Add the chicken broth and the dried tomatoes, and the dried chipotle peppers or the chipotles in adobe sauce. (Try substituting three canned chipotles with a tablespoon of the adobo sauce, and freeze the rest.) Mash them up as they cook. Add the greens—chard, spinach, green beans, thinly sliced zucchini and cauliflower. Cook until cauliflower is tender/crisp. Add the chicken and the pepper sauces to taste. Heat through. Ladle into bowls and top with grated cheese, fresh cilantro and a dollop of chipotle sauce.Adorn with avocado slices.

This dinner is guaranteed to turn blah into bliss, especially if you're the one to cook it!

Chipotle Sauce

2-3 cubes frozen chipotle cubes - or 2-3 canned chipotles in adobo sauce, minced
2/3 c mayo (more or less)
2/3 c sour cream (more or less)
2/3 c plain yogurt
2  tsp. lemon or lime juice.
2 tsp serrano sauce or garlic/chili sauce (to taste, as always)
Mix and serve over, or on the side, with grilled meats, fish, veggies, eggs, or atop soups or stews.

Hell, have it on your cereal, if you still eat cereal.

Time and Farm Implements

There's PK tooling along our country road en route to our adjacent rental property, where it's time to mow the spring-tall grass.  He couldn't be happier.

PK is central to my life (spouse), and tractor (s) have been semi-central to his. Not that I haven't played into his life, or that our two incredible sons have slipped by unnoticed. But owning and operating a tractor has been part of his MO for the decades we've inhabited our 3.5 acres in southern Oregon. We've been on the same land since 1974, the year he bought the Massey Ferguson. 

A couple weeks ago, PK purchased a brand-spanking new tractor, a Mahindra. This after an entire winter a couple years ago rebuilding the classic Massey Ferguson and months of agonizing about spending the big bucks for a new tractor after the classic developed insurmountable, at least for our budget and his patience, problems.

Paul on the Massey Ferguson, spraying sulphur in a long-ago spring.

He bought the Massey Ferguson used, very used, and he went straight to work mowing apple orchard grass, hauling a spray rig to kill coddling moth, nipping fungus in the bud, and moving the harvested fruit. He also had a demanding full-time day job, of course. I remember many winter and spring days when, after working eight hours, he'd spend another three or four hours pruning apple trees. He used the tractor to haul the brush and to spray for various reasons. How did I not know this behavior was unusual? Extraordinary? I guess I thought it was normal for a guy to work that hard.

In those days, we had 300 fruit trees. Now we have about 30. Our garden, however, has assumed a large, some might say ominous, presence.

I didn't recognize the Massey Ferguson as a sign of life passing-too-damn quickly until I took photos to help sell it.  But as the shiny new unit was delivered and the Massey Ferguson ingloriously left the premises, I took a dive into the past.

Young Paul and toddler Quinn loading apples onto our old (and long gone) flatbed truck.
This was probably 1979 or 1980.

We were young—in our 20s—when the Massey Ferguson came to live with us. Guess what? It is better to be young than to have a young tractor. PK longed to be farmer then, but he needed to make a living. He really did. Now, as a retiree and with the help of the Mahindra, he can be a gentleman farmer and not have to worry about money or beating himself up using a failing farm implement. But the time for him to really be a farmer has passed. Is that what he wanted? Would I have liked being a rancher's or farmer's wife? It's too late. We'll never know.

We've arrived, somehow, where all those forks in the road have led, finally, to reality central. We are now where we were headed in the 1970s—and it is exactly where we physically landed decades ago.

If you are in your 20s or early 30s, beware. Every choice you make will reverberate in ways that you can't imagine. Even in your dreams. Because it isn't real to you that years will mysteriously become decades, and a singular event will occur and you'll know that a turning point is at hand, even though . you may only recognize this later. Too much later to change the course. Thinking Why didn't I do this or that? is pretty much useless.

Suddenly, you are there and a new tractor is in the driveway and your husband is so damn happy mowing the spring grass and front-end loading compost and planning to dive into the neighbor's horse manure that he can hardly stand it. You are both in your sixties. It is unbelievable. And what you are doing now is not building a life, but beginning to turn it into compost to pass along to the next generation. Life is good. You got lucky.

Does anybody want the land-based life that we have built? It isn't half bad, and there's still plenty of time to let the compost work. The new tractor? It will be here long, long after we're gone.

Low-carb Pizza Crust - Seriously!

Not much left after two pizza-starved beings dug into this one. 

I've missed pizza since ditching it because of carb-heavy crusts. Even my own super-thin, delicious and crispy whole-wheat crusts were not acceptable. Wheat is wheat—a carb bomb no matter what. Scraping the toppings off pizzas does not do the trick as far as the overall pizza experience goes. Gotta have something beneath the pepperoni and cheese.

So I was excited when my friend from long ago, Grace McGran (Diane Cratty when I knew her in the 1970s) resurfaced in my life, and among many other gifts, has supplied a recipe for a low-carb pizza crust.

Believe it or not, this is a zucchini-based pizza  crust, and it is delicious.

Grace was a pastry chef for 40 years!! and had ballooned to an unacceptable weight before she read a book that changed her life that corresponded, more or less, with the end of her happy career fashioning breads, pie crusts and decadent desserts. She's put her extensive chef/baking experience into creating low-carb substitutes for stuff like pizza crust and zucchini bread. Whenever I try out one of her recipes, I will share the results. In the meantime, if you don't want to wait for me, go directly to Grace!

She's amazing. She has, however,  a caveat about her blog: it's posted on a weight-loss/wellness community called sparkpeople, which mostly focuses on the pervasive low-fat, whole-grain myth of healthy nutrition. (Without joining, you may not be able to access. Membership is free.)
To be clear, both Grace and I embrace, with good reason, the low-carb lifestyle. This dietary path does not include bread or most grains, but does include butter, coconut oil, olive oil, nuts and other fats that seem to encourage weight loss and/or weight maintenance.

Here's Grace's recipe with a few photos and my pizza toppings. The crust is the important thing. I'm so happy to have it! And who would have thought that the lowly zucchini could have risen to the challenge. Thank you, Grace!

My pizza loaded up with pesto, peppers, onions, uncured salami, and serrano sauce.

Just out of the oven, with cheese, cooling on Grace's crust recipe.  Can't wait. 

Zucchini Low-carb Pizza Crust

Zucchini - 3 cups, grated (buying this out of season was worth it)
2 eggs
Extra virgin olive oil, 2 Tbsp
Almond flour or almond meal, 4 Tbsp
Flax seed meal (ground flax) 4 Tbsp
Coconut flour, 4 Tbsp
Chickpea flour, 4Tbsp
Pinenuts, 4 Tbsp (I used sunflower seeds as pinenuts are now $19 a pound!)
Parmesan cheese, finely grated, 4 Tbsp
1 tsp baking powder
1 tsp garlic powder
1.5 tsp sea salt

Preheat oven to 400 degrees F
Shred the zucchini, then put into a bowl. Sprinkle with 1 tsp salt and toss with a fork. After 10 minutes or more, transfer to a colander to let drain for a few minutes. Then squeeze by hand until liquid is gone. Grace uses a ricer for this operation.
In a separate bowl, mix the dry ingredients thoroughly, using a fork or whisk. In another bowl, combine the eggs and olive oil and stir until well combined. Now mix all ingredients together. You should have a fairly stiff dough.
Prepare a 14-inch pizza pan by covering it with a round of parchment paper. (I didn't have parchment paper but slathered my pan with solid coconut oil, which worked fine. No sticking!) Using your hands, pat the dough evenly over the pizza pan. It will be 1/4 inch thick. Try to even it out so there are no thin areas to burn.Place in the 400 degree pre-heated oven for 20 minutes, then remove to add your toppings.
My pizza toppings:
Basil pesto, enough to cover the partially baked pizza crust
Serrano sauce, a thin smear to cover the pesto (a good marinara sauce would be fine, but not quite as kicky)
Overlapped pieces of uncured Applegate brand salami, or other uncured meat topping
Chopped red onions to taste
Marinated artichoke hearts, four or five, chopped
Sliced sweet peppers, liberally applied

Return baked crust with toppings to the oven for 15 or 20 minutes, depending upon how thickly you've layered. Remove from the oven and top with whatever cheeses you're using (I used Parmesan and mozzarella) Turn off the oven and return the pizza to the oven for five minutes to melt the cheese.

About the unusual flours. When Grace sent her recipe, I was dismayed. Coconut flour? Garbanzo bean flour? Almond flour or meal? But have no fear. The gluten-free craze has hit the hinterlands as well as metro areas, and I was able to easily locate all carb-free flours in Oregon's rural Rogue Valley.

Going Local on the Road

The low ceilings of Ye Olde Castle and Antique Emporium in Burns, OR,  drip with antique toys, and every wall, nook, and cranny is festooned with items of charm and/or weirdness. Delightful!

It's sooo easy to slide into a Red Lion or a Hyatt or a Motel 6 or whatever motel/hotel clone appears on your travel route. You know what to expect. It'll be clean. You'll have WiFi and probably a big-screen TV. There'll be a predictable "free" breakfast that, if you're lucky, will include a bit of protein to share your styrofoam plate with massive carbs. Ditto the road food. You know what's goin' down at Apple Cellar, Shari's, and if you're in a desperate hurry, MacDonald's. The chains are easy hits along the main thoroughfares, but the local gems are hidden.

Not anymore.  Got a smartphone? That's all it takes. That and a mindset that prefers adventure over all-the-same on the road. Delicious regionalism exists, despite a huge effort at national homogenization and Big Brand blanketing. The little hide-aways and pockets of eccentrics wishing to sell their wares and offer you a bed and a hot shower exist everywhere. All you have to do is want to find them and recognize that the journey can be as fun as the destination. 

On a recent trip to western Wyoming, the skiing diehards, to their credit, decided that we'd have nothing but local food and lodging on our return trip to Southern Oregon. Four of them in one vehicle, equipped with smart phones in search mode, checked out the Yelp! and tripadvisor picks along the way to select our culinary and slumber sites. It was good. Very good.

Consider Ye Olde Castle in Burns, OR, which we've passed maybe 20 times over the years without even considering stopping. It looks like a wreck, a dive, lost in the 1950s without a facelift. It looked so unpromising, as did all the other cafes the Diehards rejected as they searched Burns for breakfast, with PK and I bumping over curbs and through alleys as we followed. The Diehards even touched down in the Apple Cellar parking lot, but after 10 seconds, roared off, back to Ye Olde Castle.

Here it is, in all its un-glory,  on Hwy. 20, the main drag through Burns.

The wooden walkway was frayed and creaky, paint flaked from the walls, and I thought, Ok, here we go! Me of little faith. But the place captured me. A round table near the entry was populated with old guys in bib overalls, a sure sign of local approval. Then there were the toys and bicycles and antiques and paintings converging into the aisles. This decor would never pass muster in a chain restaurant.

Items are artlessly displayed but were collected with love. And dust.

Here's Roxanne, the dishwasher, cook and waitress. She's worked here for 30 years and now
lives in quarters above the restaurant. She told us about the resident ghosts and
the phantom crying baby.  Would she be happy working at Denny's? No way.

Ye Olde Castle's breakfast was OK. Typical fare that you would expect at a chain,  except that one in our party scored a six-egg omelette, and I was thrilled with an Atkins' breakfast of eggs, bacon/sausage and low-carb toast. It wasn't the food that scored the reviews and pledges to return, however, it was the bicycle room dividers and the copper-plated prints en route to the restroom and on and on. Ye Olde Castle is not yet reviewed on Yelp! or tripadvisor. Just go there if passing through Burns.

Burns yielded other discoveries:

The Silver Spur Motel, $42 per night with "cowboy hospitality,"  was clean and featured some cool old timey Western decor and knotty pine walls. If you pulled the curtain back in the bathroom, you could see the "backside" of Burns just one street off the main drag: dilapidated houses, scruffy lots, and junky vehicles. The economy has been particularly hard on rural Oregon. 

But the best thing about the Silver Spur was it's walking-distance proximity to a great surprise gourmet restaurant, Rhojos. My five-star review on tripadvisor:

Wow! Great food and service, reasonable prices. Surprising gourmet quality in rural Oregon. Everything fresh and carefully created. Loved it!

If you're ever passing through Burns, Oregon, don't miss it! Chef Michel Johnson is a culinary wizard working on a four-burner electric stove in a non-gourmet-looking kitchen in full view.  It's all part of the restaurant's charm and local flavor.

Back in Wyoming, we ventured down from the Grand Targhee ski resort into the Teton Valley for dinner at the Knotty Pine Supper Club. The Knotty Pine, as its name suggests, is an old-fashioned restaurant with a dark wooden interior and rich smoky aromas. It also turns out to be a popular venue for traveling big-name bands—Galactic played there in March.  After one meal, it's easy to see why the place draws a crowd. It specializes in house-cured meats and seasonal offerings that include buffalo and elk sausage pasta with garlic, tomatoes, red wine and herbs; and kurobuta pork chops stuffed with chevre and bacon over sweet pea risotto. PK and I shared an excellent warm cabbage salad flavored with pancetta, pecans, garlic, and gorgonzola, a dish that warrants trying to duplicate at home.

My delicious dinner at the Knotty Pine Supper Club in Victor, Idaho. Half a side of house-cured hickory-smoked BBQ ribs, a few veggies, and the biggest serving of the best onion rings ever.
Photo was taken AFTER numerous onion rings were swiped by my companions.

Next up, lunch in Pocatello, Idaho. A Yelp! search yielded the Butterburr, which was not that convenient to the freeway, but then, we weren't in a hurry. Were we? This place is a mom and pop restaurant that serves enormous portions. For a carb-avoider, it wasn't a great choice. I got a Cobb salad that was, to be generous, dismal. But others were pleased with homemade noodle soups, burgers, and scones accompanied by whipped butter with powdered sugar. This is the type of restaurant that contributes mightily to the infamous girth of about two-thirds of the USA population. Yet it gets great Yelp! and tripadvisor reviews and beats the chains. 


I've been back home long enough to enjoy my two local favorites in Rogue River, OR:
The Station and Paisano's Italian Kitchen. There's no place like home.