When you chop off the end of the Baby Bok Choy, you get a lovely rose!
Tuesday, September 9
Comfort Curry Soup
This soup/stew was invented on a rainy day with treats from the farmers' market and Dottie's Discount Goods.
4 medium white russet potatoes (cubed)
water
2 TBS olive oil
1 small white onion (chopped)
1.5 - 2 TBS curry powder
1/2 tsp cumin
1/2 tsp coriander
1 squirt Bragg's Liquid Aminos
1/2 tsp or more cayenne powder
3 bay leaves
3 carrots (chopped)
3 large plain white mushrooms (chopped)
1 can of peas
1/3 or 1/2 can coconut milk
1. Bring 4 cups of water to a boil in a sauce pan. Cook potatoes until you can stick a fork in them. Drain and set aside.
2. Over medium heat in large sauce pan, sauté onion in olive oil until softened.
3. Add 3/4 cup of water to onion/olive oil & mix well.
4. Add curry, cumin, coriander, Bragg's Liquid Aminos, cayenne powder, bay leaves and mix well.
5. Add carrots onion/spice mix and cook until softened.
6. Add mushrooms and potatoes (from step 1) to sauce pan. Mix well.
7. Fold in can of peas.
8. Add coconut milk, mix well and simmer for a few more minutes.
Enjoy!
Notes:
*Periodically sample a bit to see if the seasoning is pleasant. Adjust spices to your taste if necessary.
*The soup is versatile; experiment different veggies as they become more available (such as autumn squash). Mix in a cup or two of beans or tofu if desired to provide more protein.
Bonus points if you use locally produced and or organic ingredents (carrots, onion, potatoes come to mind). Good luck finding locally produced coconut milk.
4 medium white russet potatoes (cubed)
water
2 TBS olive oil
1 small white onion (chopped)
1.5 - 2 TBS curry powder
1/2 tsp cumin
1/2 tsp coriander
1 squirt Bragg's Liquid Aminos
1/2 tsp or more cayenne powder
3 bay leaves
3 carrots (chopped)
3 large plain white mushrooms (chopped)
1 can of peas
1/3 or 1/2 can coconut milk
1. Bring 4 cups of water to a boil in a sauce pan. Cook potatoes until you can stick a fork in them. Drain and set aside.
2. Over medium heat in large sauce pan, sauté onion in olive oil until softened.
3. Add 3/4 cup of water to onion/olive oil & mix well.
4. Add curry, cumin, coriander, Bragg's Liquid Aminos, cayenne powder, bay leaves and mix well.
5. Add carrots onion/spice mix and cook until softened.
6. Add mushrooms and potatoes (from step 1) to sauce pan. Mix well.
7. Fold in can of peas.
8. Add coconut milk, mix well and simmer for a few more minutes.
Enjoy!
Notes:
*Periodically sample a bit to see if the seasoning is pleasant. Adjust spices to your taste if necessary.
*The soup is versatile; experiment different veggies as they become more available (such as autumn squash). Mix in a cup or two of beans or tofu if desired to provide more protein.
Bonus points if you use locally produced and or organic ingredents (carrots, onion, potatoes come to mind). Good luck finding locally produced coconut milk.
Re-assessing the blog
So for the past 8 months my blogging activities have been sub-par. I think that I can fault facebook's convenient photo-sharing options for that, since I started this blog to avoid having to send photos via email and clogging inboxes.
Does anyone actually read this, anyway?
Should I:
a. continue posting boring daily updates,
b. start a vegan recipe blog,
c. jump off the blog-wagon, or
d. both a & c?
Does anyone actually read this, anyway?
Should I:
a. continue posting boring daily updates,
b. start a vegan recipe blog,
c. jump off the blog-wagon, or
d. both a & c?
Friday, January 18
In Retrospect: A Shoe Box's Guide to Culture Shock
Before leaving for Ecuador, I was throughly excited to develop my noveau-latina persona. Living in Vermont changed my wardrobe: I bought my first hiking boots, fleece and hemp pants that year, stopped shaving my legs and started wearing "all-natural" deodorant. I was so excited to move to a place where high heels and pantyhose were the norm; I even "google-image-searched" photos of Quito to see which of my clothes I should pack to fit in. You can imagine how thrilled I was to stumble upon a pair of Vera Wang brown leather high heels at the second-hand store in Brattleboro. I snatched them up for $20, and that night was so excited to wear them out to dinner at the Common Ground restaurant. During the 10 minute walk to dinner, I obtained 25 (yes, I counted!) blisters on my poor "rather-be-in-wool-socks-and-boots" feet.
Despite that painful event, I didn't get discouraged. I was still psyched for high heels in Ecuador. When I packed way back in July, I brought 7 pairs of shoes with me, some high-heeled, some a more modest flat. During my first few days here, I somehow survived by dodging rabid dogs and manholes in high heels. I went through a whole package of mole skin and band aids. I didn't care; I wanted to hear the tick-tock and feel like I was standing up straighter. I was certainly in the first phase of culture shock, characterized by blind acceptance, excitement and fascination with the new culture.
This soon changed when something clicked inside of me, or maybe I just tripped and fell on my face too many times. I wanted to reject that which I had previously accepted accepted so enthusiastically. I am not a high-heel wearer. The blisters, the sore ankles, the inability to walk fast... it was time for me to adapt more sensible shoes. I pulled my hiking boots from the depths of my closet, and donned them with big, clunky LL Bean pride. Oh, the looks I got: dressed up in ironed slacks and a blouse...and hiking boots. I was in the second stage of culture shock.
Finally, when I went home for Thanksgiving in November, I decided that I should dig my Canadian dressy-yet warm-yet comfortable-boots out of the attic, and exchanged them for a few pairs of uncomfortable high heels. Since returning to Ecuador in November, I have worn these black suede waterproof boots in the rain and in the sun. I've even gotten a complement on them from an Ecuadorian woman. Both functional and stylish, perhaps I have entered into the third stage of culture shock: adjustment. I am more comfortable in dealing with cross-cultural challenges. And my feet are not covered in blisters. :)
Despite that painful event, I didn't get discouraged. I was still psyched for high heels in Ecuador. When I packed way back in July, I brought 7 pairs of shoes with me, some high-heeled, some a more modest flat. During my first few days here, I somehow survived by dodging rabid dogs and manholes in high heels. I went through a whole package of mole skin and band aids. I didn't care; I wanted to hear the tick-tock and feel like I was standing up straighter. I was certainly in the first phase of culture shock, characterized by blind acceptance, excitement and fascination with the new culture.
This soon changed when something clicked inside of me, or maybe I just tripped and fell on my face too many times. I wanted to reject that which I had previously accepted accepted so enthusiastically. I am not a high-heel wearer. The blisters, the sore ankles, the inability to walk fast... it was time for me to adapt more sensible shoes. I pulled my hiking boots from the depths of my closet, and donned them with big, clunky LL Bean pride. Oh, the looks I got: dressed up in ironed slacks and a blouse...and hiking boots. I was in the second stage of culture shock.
Finally, when I went home for Thanksgiving in November, I decided that I should dig my Canadian dressy-yet warm-yet comfortable-boots out of the attic, and exchanged them for a few pairs of uncomfortable high heels. Since returning to Ecuador in November, I have worn these black suede waterproof boots in the rain and in the sun. I've even gotten a complement on them from an Ecuadorian woman. Both functional and stylish, perhaps I have entered into the third stage of culture shock: adjustment. I am more comfortable in dealing with cross-cultural challenges. And my feet are not covered in blisters. :)
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