Souper Summer Dinners

Soup? In the summer? You bet! Soups don't have to be heavy and hot. If you've had enough salads to last you the next few months, here are a couple of recipes for yummy and simple summertime soups to create from your garden and farmer's market bounty. Both are vegan (if you use veggie broth and skip the worcestershire) and ultra-healthy.


Creamy Ginger-Carrot Soup

1. 2 14-oz cans of broth
2. 1 can water
3. 1 lb carrots
4. 1/2 chopped fresh ginger

Cut carrots to 2-3 inch sections. Bring broth and water to a boil in a saucepan and add carrots. Cover and lower heat to a simmer. Cook covered until carrots are tender, adding water as needed to cover carrots. When carrots are cooked, empty pan--liquid, carrots, and all--into a blender and blend until smooth. Return to pan and serve at room temperature.

Here's what mine looked like. I served it with a substantial bread (like ciabatta or focaccia) and a cheese plate. It comfortably serves 4-5 adults. This recipe would work with any starchy vegetable.

Gazpacho is healthy, cheap, and requires no cooking whatsoever, so why aren't we eating it every day? I had trouble finding a viable recipe and therefore ended up coming up with my own variation. My preschoolers loved it and called it ketchup-o.

Gazpacho

1. 4 large tomatoes, chopped, peeled, and seeded
2. 1/2 onion, so finely chopped it's almost pulverized
3. 1 cucumber, chopped and peeled
4. 1 red or orange bell pepper, chopped and seeded
5. 2 stalks celery, chopped
6. 1 shallot, finely chopped
7. 1 clove of garlic, finely chopped
8. 1 Tbsp chives
9. 1 Tbsp parsley
10. 2 tsp sugar
11. 1/8 cup balsamic vinegar
12. 1/8 cup olive oil
13. 1 tsp worcestershire sauce
14. 4 cups vegetable juice (like V8)
15. Salt and cayenne pepper to taste

Combine all in large bowl. Blend half in blender on pulse setting until just blended--don't completely paste-ify it. Add back to bowl and mix well. Blend more if the consistency isn't right; otherwise, chill and serve. This tastes better as it ages!

I sprinkled a little cotija cheese on top and served with french bread. This was a huge hit with my husband and kids, who are usually unrepentant carnivores. It's easily enough for 6 enthusiastic eaters, even 7 or 8.


Check back in a few days for more on my family's ever greener lifestyle and more veggie-full recipes!

Emmie's Back!

I hope my kind readers will forgive my long absence--2 months? can it be? Between pregnancy fatigue and an endless parade of houseguests, sitting down to the computer moved down the priority list to somewhere between having the cat shaved and vacuuming between the couch cushions. My commitment to a greener lifestyle has luckily remained stronger than my motivation to chronicle it. Here are a few observations I've made during my yet short foray into the organic life:

1. Organic, local, and/or healthy food does not necessarily cost more. Why not? I am no expert in agriculture, but I'd guess that transporting those peaches from Chile ain't cheap, at least not as cheap as transporting cherries from the next town over. Plus, I know that the cherries meet US health codes, which we cannot guarantee when dealing with other countries. I'll take my fruit without that side of melamine, thanks.

2. Kids *will* eat that stuff. I know because I have a few. Mine seem to be slowly losing their taste for additives and food-like chemicals, although they still have occasional Cheeto cravings. The munchkins will try anything with enough encouragement, so we have tried about a million different kinds of granola and trail mix with varying results. Being actively involved in the growing and/or purchasing of snacks is a big advantage, so bring them along when you go to the farmer's market and health food store.

3. Once you are used to eating real food, everything else tastes like, well, crap. I spent two days in the hospital following my daughter's birth and found most of the food an unrecognizable chemical and starch cocktail. Granted, institutional food is not meant to be a gourmet experience, but I think they were trying for edible. No such luck. Several guests brought me fast food, which I had trouble convincing myself to eat as well. I was happy to come home just to have a real meal.

So far the most difficult products to find locally and affordably are meat and dairy, but I'm working on it. Darigold is technically local despite being a large regional brand, so I favor them at the grocery store when organic is just too expensive. Meanwhile, I've been incorporating more vegan and vegetarian meals into our diets to keep as local as possible. My latest project is summer soups--recipes will follow early this coming week. Until then, take care of yourselves and enjoy the bounty of summer!

Houseguests

Egad-it's been almost a month since I last posted. Beyond the usual minor emergencies and medical dramas, I've been bogged down in a swamp of house guests. Obviously I love my family and friends, but each additional person in a home brings their own unique package of inconvenience and needs. Multiply that by two or three and add it to an already packed household... you get the idea.

Indeed, I have fallen off the wagon in nearly all of my resolutions. Before the guests arrived, the little devil on my shoulder informed me that I couldn't possibly ask visitors to sleep on the well-worn linens and slightly flattened pillows that furnished my guest room. The first round of visitors were foodies, so it wouldn't be hospitable to serve them the boring round of tacos and pastas that we usually eat. The little angel that is supposed to sit on my other shoulder had a bad case of laryngitis, so I spent a frenzied day in a linen store that reeked of plastic and a series of exotic markets that smelled like seafood and foreign spices. Not exactly local and definitely not "buy-nothing," but, in my defense, it wasn't April yet.

It's amazing how the best intentions can be thwarted by public opinion and expectation. Culturally, I have been conditioned to believe that hospitality means providing the best possible experience for guests, which translates into yet more of the material excess I am trying to escape. I have also been programmed with a deep-seated need to please. If I asked relatives to sleep on faded sheets and fed them lentils, they would think I don't care about them. And is this the only situation in which over-consumption is socially demanded? Of course not.

So sayeth a woman with a closet full of designer purses and impractical shoes. I am beginning to realize that my six months of forced simplicity can be not just an economical statement, but a social one. If enough people turn off HGTV and buy a goat for a third world family instead of Ralph Lauren pillow cases, how would our world be changed? How would our shopping habits be affected if over-spending was as vilified as cheapness?

With a busy Easter season over and my home as peaceful as a house with children can be, I'm ready to reclaim my lifestyle. Here are a few of the websites that inspire me right now.

Find cheap, organic, and locally produced food in your area, wherever that may be.
Say no to the global glut and support your village at the same time.
Read how I keep my busy world revolving.

The Tao of No More

I have a stepson who is overweight in a family of slender people. Some people might be able to argue that their obesity is due to physical deficiencies, but he merely eats much, much more than he should. He's old enough to make that choice now, so I try not to be judgmental about the food he chooses to partake of and the exercise he chooses not to.

Here's what I feel judgmental about: at family dinners, if there are seven people and nine pieces of chicken, he'll do the math and take the two extra pieces. He just assumes that he needs two or three times as much food as the person sitting next to him. I'm a big guy; I won't be satisfied with one itty-bitty piece of chicken.

We are not so poor that I must count every piece of chicken, but it bothers me that he thinks he is entitled to taking more than his share. Bloated to the point of unhealth from excessive consumption, his instinct is not to take less but to demand even more. You can tell he is an American; isn't that what our society is all about? We overconsume fuel and see the expense as a need to drill into any area that might provide even more. Dollar menu, anyone? We know enough about trade deficit and third world labor conditions to be disturbed when the plastic piece of crap in our carts is made in China, but we won't put it back. If anything, we'll add a few more, because its such a great bargain, made after all by small children earning pennies a day. We take more than our share, then blame the results on our politicians. Sure they're bought by corporations. So are you. So are we all, until we step back and say no more.

Say it with me: No more. No more.

TV as Commodity?

Humans are masters of self-sabotage. Example: In an attempt to give me a much-desired reading area, my husband surprised me with a comfortable leather chair and matching ottoman. It was an expensive set, extravagant for a large family household in which furniture is little more than disposable. Set in a quiet corner with a side table and lamp, there is now no excuse for me not to spend more time at my favorite pastime. Except, of course, that said chair is usually covered with unfolded laundry.

In the same spirit, I ordered cable TV even as I am planning a six-month experiment in extreme simplicity. I certainly have valid excuses—a great channel package at an ungodly low price, or no local channel reception for example—but doesn’t everyone? After less than twenty-four hours with hundreds of channels at my disposal, I have come to a few conclusions.

First, Americans are even weirder than I thought. A quick peek at the channel guide reveals a smorgasbord of innovative and edifying choices such as Engaged and Underage, Necklace Showcase, and True Hollywood Stories. I’m assuming that someone must be watching this pap, but whom?

Second, most children’s programming is neither educational nor appropriate for children. I guess I shouldn’t be surprised, but my entire experience in this area heretofore was with PBS and the occasional Wiggles video from the library.

Last, the media has a bigger portion of the blame for our culture of overspending than corporate America, even (gasp) Wal-Mart. Not only is there a television show dedicated to what NOT to wear, new episodes are shown multiple times a day. An entire program beseeching us to dispose of wearable garments simply because a style expert of dubious credentials says it must be? And that’s just one of the hundreds of similar programs available for viewing at any hour of the day or night. No wonder most of us are wading through a quagmire of unnecessary debt.

How long will cable television survive in my bookish home? Will my family be transformed from proud pop-cultural illiterates to knowledgeable consumers of reality shows and music television? We shall see. So far, I think A.) 3 months, and B.) Nope. We’re too far gone for even the savviest of marketing experts.

The Ick Factor

I spent the morning canvassing garage sales and a few local thrift stores for the new little one’s layette. Among the finds: a matched-from-top-to-bootie Hanna Andersson outfit in like new condition. I can already see the ever-higher eBay bids when my unborn one has outgrown it. For some reason, the internet auction community prefers buying Swedish infant’s clothing. I’m as big a sucker for organic cotton and flat-lock seams as any other Mommy, but it was made in Peru, for heaven’s sake. I doubt it has any distinctive terroire.

The inherent weirdness of this obsession with foreign children’s clothing is surpassed only by the attitude of people who turn up their noses at resale completely. I am truly interested in how many people refuse to buy used clothing and household items. I am especially fascinated with the adjectives that this group uses to describe thrift store fare. Grody. Skeevy. Icky. It’s like they lose the ability to speak capably and must revert to a toddler’s lexicon when economics peeks its slimy head into their closet. I don’t care if my budget is blown to smithereens; I must have X or I shall throw myself screaming to the ground.

A bit harsh, but, honestly, isn’t it the truth? Everyone has pet peeves, but most of us reach a point where we accept that we can’t always have exactly what we want. It’s called adulthood. And most of us stop dry heaving and acting faint when faced with perceived unpleasantness some time before age six. The people that balk at thrift stores are selectively grossed out by habits that save money while the obvious germiness of more expensive practices doesn’t bother them at all. They cannot bear to spread used linens on their beds, but hotel bedspreads that go unwashed for months as patron after patron spreads dander and body fluids about them are fine. They’ll have nothing to do with a garage sale coffee mug, but they eat off restaurant plates without a second thought.

Humans are germy sorts by nature, and anything we touch is bound to bear our microbial mark. New items are made with human hands or even grimier factory equipment, then packaged by another set of germs and fluids before being transported in a filthy truck. At their destination, they are unpacked in a filthy back room by a minimum wage employee who may or may not have washed after the last restroom break, then hung in a public area where anyone can touch them and try them on. If you think brand-spanking-new panties have never touched another person’s bottom, you clearly have never worked in a department store fitting room. It’s more sanitary to outfit your family from the local crack house.

That’s why we have soap and hot water, people. That four-year-old in the third world who made your sweater has never heard of toilet paper and probably has no running water with which to wash her hands. And that’s just the beginning of the grossness. So if you refuse to use recycled clothing, you’ll need to some up with a better excuse. I can respect someone who is honest. Just say it: I shop not to acquire useful, high-quality goods, but to fill an emotional void. Or: I am too good for used garments. I deserve the best, regardless of economic or environmental cost.

One for the road

Another speedbump in the road to economic independence: transportation. Specifically, gas.

Obviously I couldn't consider myself independent of the global economy while continuing to partake of its most addicting and destructive by-product. I read somewhere that every national conflict in the past thirty years has had something to do with oil. I'm not sure about the specifics (or the validity) but it has the ring of at least partial truth. Oil=problems.

On the other hand, having no transportation would derail my other plans completely. Our farmer's market only gathers on Sundays, when my town has no public transportation. Freecycling, garage sale-ing, bartering... all require a working vehicle to some extent. I won't even go into the joys of taking the bus with four or more children in tow because it actually presents the least of the issues, although I am mildly amused by the mental image of my husband and I taking the bus to the hospital while timing contractions. Sounds like good times. I bet someone might even give me their seat.

No, retiring the minivan is not an option. Here are a few viable solutions:

1. Restrict driving to one or two set days a week.
2. Set a cap on gas expenditures or usage.
3. Refuse to drive unless at least x amount of errands can be accomplished in one trip.
4. Find a like-minded family and carpool.
5. Find someone who wants to loan or donate a hybrid car to my worthy cause. Hello Toyota?
6. Take the bus whenever viable.
7. Some combination of the above.

See how pathetically dependent we are on this monster we call global trade? It's worse than crack. Our country was settled by people who didn't think to hold out for convenient transportation. They just plowed ahead and took care of business. Why can't we have that kind of backbone?

Diapers, deodorant, and other trivia

So. I will buy nothing, living solely off the bounty of the earth. It's easy to make statements like this, at least for those of us who grew up in Humboldt County. Logistics are another story.

How am I going to do this?

Food will be easy. A wide variety of healthy and even affordable food grows in my immediate area, as in much of the US. What I can't conjure out of my backyard can be bought at the local farmer's market or from 4-H students. I'll miss the convenience of popping in to Safeway at any hour, but not the preservatives and insanely abundant packaging.

Clothing is only a little more difficult. No one in my house has less than a six-month supply of socks and underwear. Anything else I can find at a local thrift store or garage sale. Lack of selection will force me to think ahead and anticipate our needs well in advance... not exactly a bad habit in itself.

Many toiletries, cleaners, and cart-filling-crap can be made easily and safely from basic ingredients like oatmeal and vinegar. Most can even be completely done without. But what about deodorant? Lip gloss? Diapers?

The diaper question will be the topic du jour as I have a baby due at the end of May. I suppose cloth is the answer, but I'm not that green. No, I love my sanitary, convenient, landfill-clogging disposables. Do I love them enough to maintain a lifeline, however diminished, to the global economic mess?

Probably not.

Resignation

Tired of whining about the economy? Just quit.

Starting April 2007, I am embarking on a six-month experiment. I will no longer buy anything that is not necessary for the continuance of life. The things I must have--like food--will be bought directly from local producers. As the primary shopper for our household, I will be dragging seven other people with me on this adventure in ecology. It is a drastic decision, and I am not by nature a drastic person.

I'm sick of financing CrapMart in beating down the little guy. It's hard to eat while wondering who was oppressed in the production of my food. I don't want a pair of Italian stilettos made by a starving six-year-old in Singapore, and I don't accept John Q. Enron's word that he is fair to his producers. Administrations come and go, liberal and conservative; nothing ever changes. WE lead our country regardless of who has the reins on paper. And WE want the goods, as cheap and as plentiful as possible. Those of us who came of age in the eighties and nineties grew up with consumerism taking up a massive amount of space in our homes and in our minds. We can't imagine a life without the constant acquisition of stuff. I think most Americans are willing to make economically responsible choices; they just don't realize that it is possible.

It is possible. Let's vote for change with the most convincing, most loudly heard ballot available: money.