Score of the season
Today someone at my office mentioned that she had just bought some great comfy easy chairs and cafe tables from the guys at the coffee shop next door. It went out of business recently and they were selling all their furniture and fixtures. My friend and I went over to see if anything good was left, and I scored four giant heavy Italian terra cotta planter pots with gorgeous fat rolled rims and a lovely patina – two of them containing good-sized, beautiful, healthy (though currently leafless) Japanese maple trees – plus all four saucers – for fifty bucks. Yay, me!
As luck would have it I had driven to work today instead of riding, because I had a several errands to run on my way in to the office. The nice guys from the cafe loaded them in – one on the driver's seat, one on the back seat, and the two containing the trees lying on their sides with the trees sticking out the back. Then I v-e-r-y carefully drove them home, spilling only about three or four gallons of soil as the pots rolled around ... and as soon as Mr. A gets home, or maybe tomorrow, we will make an attempt to get them out and onto the ground again without dropping them. Because they are BIG. And very heavy.
Sometimes it is nice having access to a large SUV, even though I hardly ever drive it anymore. I have read accounts of people moving their whole apartments, including things like mattresses and couches, by bicycle ... and I applaud those people. I myself have used my bike to move some pretty impressive things around town, such as an extra-large lasagna in a glass pan that I strapped onto my back rack a few weeks ago to take to those friends whose baby came so early, and who had just finally brought him home from the hospital.
(Speaking of him – I went by to pick up that pan tonight and drop off some more food, and he's looking great. My friend mentioned that he was actually supposed to have been born today – not in August. But he's doing well, nursing like a champ and starting to put on a little weight.)
Anyway – the secret to carrying a giant lasagna in a glass pan on the back of a bike is this: in addition to the bungies, you have to have some padding between the bike rack and the bottom of the pan. A folded up fleece jacket will work, as I now know; I rode about a quarter mile with everything rattling in the most alarming way before I realized I was going to have to make some adjustments, and luckily I had the jacket in one of my panniers.
It also helps to stick the pan in some kind of container with slightly higher sides, such that the bungies aren't stretched tight across the top of the lasagna itself. If this happens, you will have a terrible time getting the cheese unstuck from the foil when it comes time to actually eat the lasagna. But it still tastes good.
Here is my recipe for Special Nourishing Post Partum Vegetarian Lasagna.
1. Boil the lasagna noodles like it says on the package. Whole wheat or spelt pasta is especially good, if you can eat stuff like that, though when I make this for myself now I use layers of spinach leaves instead of pasta. This increases the iron content and reduces the carbs by about a million.
2. While the pasta is boiling, get the sauce ready. Chop up a bunch of tomatoes and add whatever herbs you like – fresh basil, oregano, chile peppers, tons of raw garlic. Bottled sauce is great too.
3. Wash and chop whatever vegetables you want to use. I like spinach, zucchini, onions, carrots & mushrooms (these last three I sautee in butter first to sweat out some of the flavors), chunks of winter squash (these would have to be cooked in advance), asparagus (if it's in season). Anything you like will be good in there! If you eat meat you can add that too – chopped up chicken apple sausage is one of my favorite things to add. Or I used to do a version with fish and a tarragon-based white sauce ... I was the only one who liked it, though.
4. Layer everything in the pan – sauce first, then vegetables, then ricotta AND fresh mozzarella cheese, then pasta or spinach. Make three layers, with more sauce on top, and finally another layer of cheese (unless you don't like cheese).
5. Cook it at about 350 until it looks and smells done, about 30 minutes.
I still don't consider myself much of a cook – or at least, I wouldn't call myself a person who "loves" to cook – but I am getting the hang of a few things lately, with a lot of help from Mr. A, who is an excellent teacher – exacting, adventurous and highly enthusiastic in the kitchen.
In other news, we've had a few more poop incidents this week, including one that ended with me on hands and knees in the dim light of early morning, scrubbing away in the cold to remove all traces of a trail of poopy footprints the genesis of which I prefer not to relate in any great detail (you're welcome) except to say that they were not mine. I guess this is just what it comes down to at the end (as well as the beginning) of life – socialization and memory become unsustainable and we're left with just our basic functions. Eat. Sleep. Poop. Love. Hopefully there will be someone kind to clean up after me when I reach that point in my own life.
And I guess it could be considered kind of apalling to allow a dog to shit in your house ... but he isn't totally incontinent, and anyway, what are we supposed to do short of putting him down – make him live outside? He's too frail for that. Even confining him to the kitchen would be an unbearable insult to his dignity, I think; when I was cleaning up after him the other day he kept hanging around, staring at me, obviously embarrassed and upset over what had happened. In any case, and fortunately or unfortunately, it isn't something we're going to have to deal with for long.
It seems like I've been anticipating this situation forever – he was already ancient when I first met him, and that was more than four years ago now. It's strange to see it finally starting to happen.
As luck would have it I had driven to work today instead of riding, because I had a several errands to run on my way in to the office. The nice guys from the cafe loaded them in – one on the driver's seat, one on the back seat, and the two containing the trees lying on their sides with the trees sticking out the back. Then I v-e-r-y carefully drove them home, spilling only about three or four gallons of soil as the pots rolled around ... and as soon as Mr. A gets home, or maybe tomorrow, we will make an attempt to get them out and onto the ground again without dropping them. Because they are BIG. And very heavy.
Sometimes it is nice having access to a large SUV, even though I hardly ever drive it anymore. I have read accounts of people moving their whole apartments, including things like mattresses and couches, by bicycle ... and I applaud those people. I myself have used my bike to move some pretty impressive things around town, such as an extra-large lasagna in a glass pan that I strapped onto my back rack a few weeks ago to take to those friends whose baby came so early, and who had just finally brought him home from the hospital.
(Speaking of him – I went by to pick up that pan tonight and drop off some more food, and he's looking great. My friend mentioned that he was actually supposed to have been born today – not in August. But he's doing well, nursing like a champ and starting to put on a little weight.)
Anyway – the secret to carrying a giant lasagna in a glass pan on the back of a bike is this: in addition to the bungies, you have to have some padding between the bike rack and the bottom of the pan. A folded up fleece jacket will work, as I now know; I rode about a quarter mile with everything rattling in the most alarming way before I realized I was going to have to make some adjustments, and luckily I had the jacket in one of my panniers.
It also helps to stick the pan in some kind of container with slightly higher sides, such that the bungies aren't stretched tight across the top of the lasagna itself. If this happens, you will have a terrible time getting the cheese unstuck from the foil when it comes time to actually eat the lasagna. But it still tastes good.
Here is my recipe for Special Nourishing Post Partum Vegetarian Lasagna.
1. Boil the lasagna noodles like it says on the package. Whole wheat or spelt pasta is especially good, if you can eat stuff like that, though when I make this for myself now I use layers of spinach leaves instead of pasta. This increases the iron content and reduces the carbs by about a million.
2. While the pasta is boiling, get the sauce ready. Chop up a bunch of tomatoes and add whatever herbs you like – fresh basil, oregano, chile peppers, tons of raw garlic. Bottled sauce is great too.
3. Wash and chop whatever vegetables you want to use. I like spinach, zucchini, onions, carrots & mushrooms (these last three I sautee in butter first to sweat out some of the flavors), chunks of winter squash (these would have to be cooked in advance), asparagus (if it's in season). Anything you like will be good in there! If you eat meat you can add that too – chopped up chicken apple sausage is one of my favorite things to add. Or I used to do a version with fish and a tarragon-based white sauce ... I was the only one who liked it, though.
4. Layer everything in the pan – sauce first, then vegetables, then ricotta AND fresh mozzarella cheese, then pasta or spinach. Make three layers, with more sauce on top, and finally another layer of cheese (unless you don't like cheese).
5. Cook it at about 350 until it looks and smells done, about 30 minutes.
I still don't consider myself much of a cook – or at least, I wouldn't call myself a person who "loves" to cook – but I am getting the hang of a few things lately, with a lot of help from Mr. A, who is an excellent teacher – exacting, adventurous and highly enthusiastic in the kitchen.
In other news, we've had a few more poop incidents this week, including one that ended with me on hands and knees in the dim light of early morning, scrubbing away in the cold to remove all traces of a trail of poopy footprints the genesis of which I prefer not to relate in any great detail (you're welcome) except to say that they were not mine. I guess this is just what it comes down to at the end (as well as the beginning) of life – socialization and memory become unsustainable and we're left with just our basic functions. Eat. Sleep. Poop. Love. Hopefully there will be someone kind to clean up after me when I reach that point in my own life.
And I guess it could be considered kind of apalling to allow a dog to shit in your house ... but he isn't totally incontinent, and anyway, what are we supposed to do short of putting him down – make him live outside? He's too frail for that. Even confining him to the kitchen would be an unbearable insult to his dignity, I think; when I was cleaning up after him the other day he kept hanging around, staring at me, obviously embarrassed and upset over what had happened. In any case, and fortunately or unfortunately, it isn't something we're going to have to deal with for long.
It seems like I've been anticipating this situation forever – he was already ancient when I first met him, and that was more than four years ago now. It's strange to see it finally starting to happen.
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