The Wisdom Of Wild Places

The kids and I went to a good, old-fashioned Sunday morning worship service today— complete with singing, the 23rd Psalm, poetry and a piece by Garrison Keillor about some serious retribution for a wayward organist. It was a celebration of over 70 years of worship on Sand Island and as the group sang their way through The Battle Hymn of the Republic, Morning has Broken and Throw Out the Lifeline, I (being the tone-deaf non-singer that I am) found a Prayer for a Camper, taped to the inside cover of the hymnal. It's a beautiful testament to the importance of carrying the wisdom, strength, quiet and humility of the wilderness into our daily lives.  A fitting testament to the generations of people who called Sand Island home (at least for the summer) and everyone else who finds the Divine in birdsong, a field of flowers, a night sky riddled with starlight or a stand of cedars.

Prayer of a Camper
Irene Mott

God of the hills, grant me strength to go back to the cities without faltering: Strength to do my daily tasks without tiring, and with enthusiasm; Strength to help my neighbor who has no hills to remember.

God of the lake, grant me thy peace and thy restfulness: Peace, to bring into a world of hurry and confusion; Restfulness, to carry to the tired ones that I shall meet every day; Contentment, to do small things, with a freedom from littleness; Self-control, for the unexpected emergency; Patience, for the wearisome task.

God of the Desert Canyons, warm my heart; Bake courage into my bones: Carve deep clefts within my soul; To hear through crowded places, the hush of the nighttime; To let in shafts of sunlight to brighten the cheerless corners of a long winter.

God of the Stars and Moon, may I take back the gift of friendship, of life for all: Fill me with awe and compassion; Fill me with a great tenderness for the needy person, at every turn. Grant that in all my perplexities and everyday decisions, I may keep an open mind, like the spacious night sky.

God of the Wilderness, with thy pure wind from the northland, drive away my pettiness; With harsh winds of the winter, drive away selfishness and hypocrisy; Fill me with the breadth and depths and heights of the wilds, When pine trees are dark against the skyline; Help me recall the humbleness of the hills, who in their mightiness know it not.

May I live the truth thou hast taught me, in every thought, and word, and deed.

Quick & Dirty Key Lime Pie

Everyone needs an easy pie in their repertoire and key lime pie is my summer version of a little black dress. I know that fresh key lime juice would be lovely but if you've ever tried to juice the barely-larger-than-a-walnut key limes, you'll understand why I use Nellie and Joe's key lime juice. You can substitute regular, Persian limes (or key limes) if you prefer to squeeze your own but since I'm going for quick and dirty— it's bottled juice all the way for this girl. Throw in a pre-made graham cracker crust pie shell and you can go from sad and pie-less to happy and pie-full in about 30 minutes.

Quick & Dirty Key Lime Pie(Adapted from Emeril Lagasse)

1 pre-made graham cracker pie crusts ( I used Keebler)
2 (14-ounce) cans sweetened condensed milk
1 cup key lime or regular lime juice
2 whole large eggs
1 cup sour cream
3 tablespoons powdered sugar, plus extra for dusting
1 tablespoon lime zest

Preparation
Preheat the oven to 325 degrees. In a mixing bowl, combine the condensed milk, lime juice, and eggs. Whisk until well blended and place the filling in the pie shells. Bake in the oven for 15 minutes and allow to chill in the refrigerator for at least 2 hours.

Once chilled, combine the sour cream, lime zest and powdered sugar and spread over the top of the pie using a spatula. Sprinkle the powdered sugar as a garnish on top of the sour cream and serve chilled.

Great Big Sea Under A Great Big Top 2013

Great Big Sea has provided the soundtrack to our family story for years and as I waited for them to take the stage at Big Top on Saturday, some of those memories came flooding back. Dancing in our living room to Donkey Riding when Jack was 6 or 7, listening to Charlie belt out, 'oh me, oh my, I heard me old wife cry, oh me, oh my, I think I'm going to die' at Target when he was 3 years old, sitting in the cockpit of Isle of Skye listening to Road Rage on countless afternoons among the Apostle Islands, listening to Consequence Free on the dock in Presque Isle with Guinness at my side and Meg in my lap and seeing them for the first time at First Avenue in 2004 with Katie and Ted. Their music has been woven into the tapestry we've created as a family and Saturday night was perfect, every single minute of it.

From the very first song, I knew it was going to be a night to remember. And it was— dancing and singing for two hours with the kids, Katie, Dan and Molly was unforgettable.

Watching Ted dance with the boys made my heart sing with pure joy.

After a little coaxing, Meg got up and joined in the fun.

Alan came to the end of the stage and showed the boys some love— they were thrilled.

Charlie had the time of his life— he was on his feet nearly the entire show.

My heart was bursting with love, pride and gratitude by the end of the concert. It's nearly impossible to put into words what it felt like to dance next to the babies I used to hold in my arms— they've grown into such extraordinary human beings. As our family continues to grow up and travel into uncharted territory, nights like last Saturday are my touchstones— beautiful memories made to the soundtrack of our family's story.

A Trio Of Islands- Oak, Devil's & Rocky

Summer is here, finally. It's been sunny for four days in a row, we are gearing up for the Fourth of July parade on Madeline Island tomorrow and we spent an afternoon in the islands— I'm ridiculously happy.

A message told in rock and driftwood.

Another message— this time told with a feather and driftwood.

George, sitting at attention and wondering why he has to wait for a potato chip.

The old fish camp on Manitou Island.

Sea caves at Devil's Island— crafted by water and wind.

Rocks on Rocky Island.

A feather veneer on granite.

Perfect rock placement.

The cormorant congregation moved on when the eagle came to visit the island.

Beef Empanadas- A Beefy Meal In A Pastry Package

I've always had a thing for anything (sweet or savory) wrapped in a flaky dough. When my parents would go out for dinner when I was young, my sister, Bridget, and I would get to choose what we wanted to eat for dinner. My Mom always made dinner from scratch and anything from the frozen food aisle or in a box seemed exotic and was a treat when the babysitter arrived for the evening. It was always a battle between Swanson's chicken pot pie (me) and Kraft macaroni and cheese (Bridget)— nine times out of ten, chicken pot pies won (I'm the oldest and have always been a little overbearing in the food department). So, when Tom and Jen (my brother and sister-in-law) showed up in Bayfield with empanadas on the dinner docket, I was a happy camper.

I recently had my first pasty in Mineral Point a few months ago and I was excited to try the south of the border version of a self-contained, pastry wrapped meat pie. The combination of currants, hard-boiled egg, flaky pastry and warm South American spices were brilliant and exactly what I was hungry for. I followed the recipe down to the letter and while I'm not exactly sure what the vodka brought to the table in regards to the dough, I have to say the pastry was beautifully flaky. I think I should make these for Bridget when she comes home in July— she ate a lot of Swanson's when we were little and I really should make it up to her. Beef empanadas are a good place to start.

Beef Empanadas (Cooks Illustrated May 2010)

Filling
1 large slice hearty white sandwich bread, torn into quarters
½ cup plus 2 tbsp. chicken broth (preferably homemade or low sodium)
1 pound 85 % lean ground chuck
1 tbsp. olive oil
2 medium onions, chopped fine
4 medium garlic cloves, minced
1 tsp. ground cumin
¼ tsp. cayenne
1/8 tsp. ground cloves
½ cup cilantro leaves, coarsely chopped
2 hard-cooked eggs, coarsely chopped
1/3 cup raisins or currants, coarsely chopped
¼ cup pitted green olives, coarsely chopped
4 tsp. cider vinegar
Salt and pepper to taste

Dough 3 cups unbleached all-purpose flour, plus extra for work surface 1 cup masa harina 1 tbsp. sugar 2 tsp. table salt 12 tbsp. (1 ½ sticks) unsalted butter, cut into ½ inch cubes and chilled ½ cup cold vodka or tequila ½ cup cold water 5 tablespoons olive oil

Filling Preparation Process bread and 2 tablespoons chicken broth in food processor until paste forms, about 5 seconds, scraping down sides of bowl as necessary.  Add beef, ¾ teaspoon salt, and ½ teaspoon pepper and pulse until mixture is well combined, six to eight one-second pulses.

Heat oil in 12-inch nonstick skillet over medium-high heat until shimmering.  Add onions and cook, stirring frequently, until beginning to brown, about 5 minutes.  Stir in garlic, cumin, cayenne, and cloves; cook until fragrant, about 1 minute.  Add beef mixture and cook, breaking meat into 1-inch pieces with wooden spoon, until browned, about 7 minutes.  Add remaining ½ cup chicken broth and simmer until mixture is moist but not wet, 3 to 5 minutes.  Transfer mixture to bowl and cool 10 minutes. Stir in cilantro, eggs, raisins, olives, and vinegar.  Season with salt and pepper to taste and refrigerate until cool, about 1 hour.

Dough Preparation Process 1 cup flour, masa harina, sugar, and salt in food processor until combined, about two one-second pulses.  Add butter and process until homogeneous and dough resembles wet sand, about 10 seconds.  Add remaining 2 cups flour and pulse until mixture is evenly distributed around bowl, 4 to 6 quick pulses.  Empty mixture into large bowl.

Sprinkle vodka or tequila and water over mixture.  Using hands, mix dough until it forms tacky mass that sticks together.  Divide dough in half, then divide each half into 6 equal pieces.  Transfer dough pieces to plate, cover with plastic wrap, and refrigerate until firm, about 45 minutes.

Empanadas Assembly Adjust over racks to upper and lower-middle positions, place 1 baking sheet on each rack, and heat oven to 425 degrees.  While baking sheets are preheating, remove dough from refrigerator.  Roll each dough piece out on lightly floured work surface into 6-inch circle about 1/8 inch thick, covering each dough round with plastic wrap while rolling remaining dough.  Place about 1/3 cup filling in center of each dough round.  Brush edges of dough with water and fold dough over filling.  Trim any ragged edges.  Press edges to seal.  Crimp edges of empanadas using fork.

Drizzle 2 tablespoons oil over surface of each hot baking sheet, then return to oven for 2 minutes.  Brush empanadas with remaining tablespoon oil.  Carefully place 6 empanadas on each baking sheet and cook until well browned and crisp, 25 to 30 minutes, rotating baking sheets front to back and top to bottom halfway through baking.  Cool empanadas on wire rack 10 minutes and serve.

A Really Good Thai Chicken & Apple Salad

What is better than Thai chicken on the grill? A sweet, salty and tangy salad made with the leftover Thai chicken, that's what. Since it seems summer is here to stay, it's time to break out the 'salad as dinner' trick I'm so fond of during these warm days full of sandy beaches, gardening, lollygagging and late dinners on the porch.

This is a seriously good salad and the best part is it takes about 15 minutes to throw together (assuming you've grilled the chicken ahead of time). Perfect for those days when you've been lollygagging, dillydallying and enjoying every last minute of summer sunshine but still need to eat dinner. Plus, it's loaded with fruits and vegetables— so you can add virtuous to the list of the day's activities.

Thai Chicken & Apple Salad(Adapted from Fine Cooking)

Dressing
1/2 cup Sweet & Sour Sauce (recipe here)
3 tbsp. fish sauce
1/4 cup fresh lime juice

Salad
1 Granny Smith apple, unpeeled, cored, quartered, and thinly sliced
1 tbsp. fresh lemon juice
1 orange or clementine
1 white onion, thinly sliced
1 red or yellow bell pepper, charred until soft, peeled, and sliced
1 cup red or white seedless grapes, halved
12 leaves arugula, torn into bite-size pieces
2 cups shredded Grilled Thai Chicken (recipe here)
1/4 cup unsalted, dry-roasted peanuts, coarsely chopped
1/4 cup mint leaves, crushed slightly and torn

Make the Dressing
In a small mixing bowl, combine the Sweet & Sour Sauce, fish sauce, and lime juice; set aside.

Assemble the Salad
In a small bowl, toss apple slices with lemon juice to prevent browning; set aside. Peel the orange or clementine and separate the sections. With a paring knife over a bowl, cut the segments in half or thirds and let the segments fall in the bowl. Add the apple, onion, yellow pepper, grapes, arugula, and chicken. Toss gently. Add the dressing, gently tossing again to mix thoroughly. Transfer to a shallow bowl or platter, sprinkle with the peanuts and mint leaves, and serve.

In A Good Way Of Life

The old threads are unraveling,
Get your needles ready. 
We are stitching a new quilt
of humanity.

Bring your old t-shirts,
worn out jeans, scarves, 
antique gowns, aprons, 
old pockets of plenty
who have held Earth's treasures, 
stones, feathers, leaves,
love notes on paper. 

Each stitch
A mindful meditation. 
Each piece of material
A story.

The more colour the better, 
so call in the tribes. 
Threads of browns, whites,
reds, oranges
Women from all nations
start stitching.

Let's recycle the hate, the abuse, 
the fear, the judgment. 
Turn it over, wash it clean, 
ring it out to dry. 
It's a revolution
of recycled wears. 

Threads of greens, blues, purples
Colourful threads
of peace, kindness, 
respect, compassion
are being stitched
from one continent to the next
over forests, oceans, mountains. 

The work is hard
Your fingers may bleed. 
But each cloth stitched together
Brings together a community. 
A world, our future world
Under one colourful quilt. 
The new quilt of humanity.

~Julia Myers

It was a first for me, a Native American drum ceremony near the Potato River. But as I stood near the moving water making its way toward Lake Superior and listened to Tony DePerry offer his prayers, I knew I was in the right place.  Meister Eckhart said, in the 13th century, 'if the only prayer you said in your whole life was, "thank you," that would suffice'. As I spread my tobacco into the water, I sent deeply heartfelt prayers of gratitude for Mother Earth, Lake Superior and the people who are re-imagining abundance and community in Northern Wisconsin.

Our souls have traveled through many lifetimes to be right here, right now— at a time when the heartbeat of a 2 billion year old mountain range, that once rivaled the Alps, and the largest body of freshwater in North America are threatened by human greed and the mining industry. Their shortsightedness has ignited a fire fueled by prayer, gatherings, ceremonies, story-telling and a re-definition of true, not stolen, power and influence that will not be extinguished.

A womb in bark— fitting for a space where the past is cherished and the future is being born amidst gratitude, feasting and ceremony.

We continued on our Saturday in the Penokees road trip to the Lac Courte Oreilles Harvest Camp near the proposed mine site and it was another eye opener. We walked into the camp and were met by Melvin, the head honcho, who warmly welcomed us and explained a few simple camp ground rules. In spite of the super-sized mosquitos, it was a magical place— a fully functioning settlement among the trees and rocks slated by GTac to become overburden.

An indigenous elder from British Columbia, Cecil Paul, told a story about a Magic Canoe, the preservation of the Kitlope, an old-growth forest in northern B.C. (story here) and the change that is possible when we gather around a fire, in a camp or in a mythical canoe. 'I was alone in a canoe," he (Paul) has said.  "But it was a magic canoe.  It was magic because it could make room for everyone who wanted to come on board, to come in and paddle together. The currents against us were very strong. But I believed we could reach our destination.  And that we had to for our survival.'

'You know, you guys call it 'the Kitlope,'" Cecil says. "But in our language we call it 'Huchsduwachsdu Nuyem Jees.'  That means 'the land of milky blue waters and the sacred stories contained in this place.' You think it's a victory because we saved the land.  But what we really saved is our heritage -- our stories which are embedded in this place and which couldn't survive without it, and which contain all our wisdom for living.' The LCO Harvest Camp is a place where, regardless of where you come from, all our wisdom for living is alive and well, available to anyone who walks into the forest off Moore Road.

We are in for a long haul— GTac isn't going away anytime soon but they are showing their true colors, as are we. It's maddening when you realize what you cherish has been sold to the highest bidder but we are shining light, from the banks of the Potato River or the LCO Harvest Camp, on the death throes of greed, hubris and corruption that doesn't fit in the world we are re-imagining. Community, ceremony, legacy, conservation and stewardship— good places to start changing our world.

Pickled Wild Onions

Wild onions, ramps, allium triciccum, wood leek— different words for the same pungent and fragrant spring gift from the forest floor. Ramps made an appearance at nearly every meal for weeks until Ted looked at me and asked for a ramp hiatus. I had to agree, it was time to take a break but I still had two or three pounds of those lovely wild onions in the fridge and I was not about to waste them. Since I dug those babies up with my own two hands, I felt a responsibility to make sure they were re-incarnated as something wonderful.

Pickling was the perfect way to preserve my foraged wild onions and since I have yet to meet a pickled thing I don't like, I knew it would be a fitting re-incarnation for my harvest.  As I stood at the sink, trimming and washing the last of those oniony bad boys, my mind wandered back to the day the kids, George, Ted and I went out to harvest the ramps near a rushing creek in a lush forest. Charlie scouted out the best ramp patches, Will wandered around with his camera, Sadie was trying to embrace the gnats swarming around her head, Meg and Ted were exploring and George awed and amazed us with his ability to scamper across a fallen tree over the creek. I bottled up that warm spring day with my family in each jar of wild onions I sealed. Food is love, plain and simple.

Pickled Wild Onions

2 pounds wild onions, cleaned and green leaves removed (I left some of the smaller onions leaves on)
1 cup white wine vinegar
1 cup white sugar
1 cup water
1/2 tsp. red pepper flakes
2 tbsp. fresh ginger, chopped
1 1/2 tsp. mixed peppercorns
1 tsp. mustard seeds
1/2 tsp. fennel seeds
1 tbsp. kosher salt
1 bay leaf
8 - 10 springs of thyme (depending on how many jars you are using)

Preparation
Bring the canning jars and lids to a boil in a stock pot, remove from heat and set aside. Bring salted water in a large saucepan to a boil over high heat and add wild onions and cook until crisp-tender (about 45 seconds). Remove the onions from the boiling water and immediately place in an ice bath. Drain and divide the ramps and sprigs of thyme between your sterilized canning jars.

Combine the remaining ingredients in a large saucepan and bring to a boil. Cook, stirring, until the sugar is dissolved and then pour the mixture over the wild onions and seal jar. Let cool to room temperature and then refrigerate for 2 - 3 weeks.

Salty Potatoes & Ramp Pesto- A Perfect Pair

Maybe it's the Irish in me but I love potatoes and maybe it's the Italian man I married but I also love pesto so when Food52 (recipe here) delivered Jose Pizarro's salt-crusted potatoes to my email in-box, I knew what I was making for dinner. Some of the ramps I harvested with Ellen (read about it here) were still in the fridge and I thought they would be perfect, re-purposed as pesto, with my salty, little potatoes.

It took me a couple of attempts to get the pesto 'right'— straight ramp pesto is a formidable beast. I don't think I've ever eaten something that strong before, my breath could have melted steel or at least repelled every mosquito in Bayfield county. I knew I needed to temper the beast while maintaining the distinctive wild onion/garlic flavor of a ramp fresh from the forest floor. I settled on spinach, basil and sun-dried tomatoes and it was exactly what those wild ramps needed to become a bit more civilized.

Wild Ramp Pesto

10 - 12 ramps, roots removed and washed
1 cup spinach
1/2 cup basil
1/4 cup oil cured sun-dried tomatoes
3/4 cup Parmesan, shredded
1/4 cup plus 2 tbsp. olive oil
1/4 cup unsalted butter, melted and cooled
1 tsp. kosher salt

Preparation
Add all ingredients except the olive oil to a food processor. Turn processor on and slowly add oil. Once added, stop the processor and scrape sides to make sure all ingredients get incorporated. The pesto freezes well (in an airtight container). Makes about 2 cups.

70 Percent Water

'Land and water are not really separate things, but they are separate words, and we perceive through words.'

David Rains Wallace, The Untamed Garden and Other Personal Essays

We are 70 percent water and fresh water is essential to our survival, two seemingly simple facts. I've heard them many times in my 43 years but ever since I've fallen in love with a vulnerable Great Lake, fresh water is always on my mind. Lake Superior, the last place on earth with clean and abundant fresh water, is threatened by the mining industries in Minnesota, Wisconsin, Michigan and Ontario. It's a foregone conclusion, regardless of the 'research' and 'engineering' a mining company will espouse, that pollution is a by-product of the extraction industries and any pollution, on the shores of 10 percent of the world's fresh water, is a global problem.

According to Water.org, , a child dies every 21 seconds from a water related illness, women in developing countries spend 200 million hours a day collecting water and 780 million people lack access to clean water. While 3.4 million people a year die from water related illnesses and the United Nations declared 2013 the Year of International Water Cooperation, there are companies (Polymet, GTac and Rio Tinto) seeking to build new iron ore, copper and nickel mines in the pristine wilderness on the shores of Lake Superior and putting fresh water at risk.

Where is the hue and cry? Where are the millions of people taking a stand against corporate greed? What happened to 'when you know better, you do better'? Why hasn't the global issue of access to clean water stopped these mining companies in their tracks? All good and maddening questions waiting to be answered. I do know the answer to one question posed by Aldo Leopold in A Sand County Almanac, 'Now, we face the question whether a still higher 'standard of living' is worth its cost in things natural, wild and free'— absolutely not because our standard of living in intricately linked to all things natural, wild and free and as such, any imbalance is the beginning of the end. I'm lucky to live in a community that shares my deep appreciation for the natural world and is working tirelessly to protect Lake Superior, a global resource, but we need more voices asking those questions and demanding answers.

When we first pulled into Justice Bay on Sand Island 14 years ago, I couldn't believe my eyes— the water was crystal clear and we could see straight down in 20 feet of water. We were used to the murky water of the Duluth harbor and I knew there was no going back after spending a week in the Apostle Islands. We didn't go back to Duluth and the Apostle Islands became the backdrop for our lives, memories and stories. I'm still awestruck at the pristine wilderness surrounding me, it's nothing short of a miracle that it's survived as long as it has. A miracle worth protecting for those who will come after me.

Ted and I took the kids and George out for an adventure in the Islands yesterday and we couldn't have asked for a more beautiful, sunny and calm day. There wasn't much wind so we decided to go all the way to Devil's and check out the sea caves. On the way to the caves, we charted a course that has become familiar to me— past Oak, Otter and Bear Islands. We've been fortunate to have spent many days and nights in the Islands and I wondered if someone, who has never been to Devil's or Lake Superior, would care if the Lake, the Penokees, the Kakagon Sloughs, the Upper Peninsula or the BWCA were destroyed by mining companies? Baba Dioum said, 'In the end we will conserve only what we love. We will love only what we understand. We will understand only what we are taught' and if people aren't taught to value, love and conserve these wild places, will they?

While there are lots of people who haven't stepped foot in the Penokee Hills, Oak Island or the BWCA, they understand the intrinsic value those wild places have in their lives. We are part of a greater whole and everyone, even the ones who seek to destroy the wilderness, has heard the earth's heartbeat— in a tree-fort as a 6-year-old, in a rumble of thunder on a warm summer night, in the caress of water while swimming, the sting of wind-driven snowflakes or the smell of pine needles warmed by the sun. Are these common experiences enough to stop the mining companies from ripping off mountain-tops, polluting watersheds and creating mountains of over-burden? If we all wake up from our slumber and open our eyes, then the answer is a resounding yes. Mining companies have operated in the Lake Superior Basin for years, with various degrees of pollution (remember Silver Bay and Reserve Mining) but it's time we realize the biggest resource in the basin is clean water, not the minerals deep in the earth.

The following websites for the Polymet Mine in Minnesota, the Rio Tinto Mine in Michigan and the Penokee Mine in Wisconsin are a good place to start to understand why Lake Superior, the Apostle Islands, the Penokee Hills, the Boundary Waters Canoe Area and the pristine wilderness of the Upper Peninsula of Michigan are worth saving. There is a long road ahead of us and conservation is a tough sell in a culture of greed and hubris but our voices raised in defense of Lake Superior can change the course those in power have plotted for us.

Aldo Leopold posed an important question in an article he wrote for Outdoor Life. I'd say that the mining industry will most definitely make a poor master and a legacy of good stewardship to the natural world will serve us, and the people who will come after us, far better.

‘For unnumbered centuries of human history the wilderness has given way. The priority of industry has become dogma. Are we as yet sufficiently enlightened to realize that we must now challenge that dogma, or do without our wilderness? Do we realize that industry, which has been our good servant, might make a poor master? Let no man expect that one lone government bureau is able—even tho it be willing—to thrash out this question alone.

….Our remnants of wilderness will yield bigger values to the nation’s character and health than they will to its pocketbook, and to destroy them will be to admit that the latter are the only values that interest us.’

Aldo Leopold ‘A Plea For Wilderness Hunting Grounds’ The Best of Outdoor Life: One Hundred Years of Classic Stories

Our First Long Island Day Of 2013

Katie, Dan Mollie and Jimmy came up for Jack's graduation this weekend and decided to spend the day with us on Long Island. We grabbed lunch stuff, packed the cooler and were in the boat by 11 am (which is amazing given the size of our crew).

I can't even begin to describe a day like today— it was simply glorious. Mary Oliver summed it up perfectly in her poem, Poppies, 'but I also say this: that light is an invitation to happiness, and that happiness, when it's done right, is a kind of holiness, palpable and redemptive'.

Will found a very, very small snapping turtle on one of our walks down the beach.

A dragonfly took a respite in Ted's hands and allowed me to snap a few photos.

Jack and Jimmy— the oldest and youngest boys in our family.

Flickers feathers on the beach and in the water.

While I would rather admire the beautiful Flicker feathers on a bird flying above me, they looked lovely under water.

After lunch, we walked down the beach towards the lighthouse.

Mollie took her time looking for shells, baby dragonflies and driftwood.

The kids had a long jump contest and Mollie was a serious contender.

Mollie and me— footprints in the sand.

Blue crawfish claws were the beach treasure of the day.

Long Island beach flag cast in sand— the summer of 2013 is off to a glorious start.

Saturday Morning On The Square

When we were in Madison for Jack's orientation, we spent Saturday morning on the square at the Farmer's Market (the first one of 2013). It has been a tardy and cold spring everywhere, including Southern Wisconsin, and it was slim pickings at the market but it was cheese heaven at Fromigination. I realize I tend (heavily) towards hyperbole but I love, love, love cheese and Fromagination had a thoughtfully curated collection of cheeses that put a huge smile on my face.

I wonder who hauls the buckets of sap at the sugarbush— Dean or DeLuca?

To be honest, I wasn't terribly excited to visit the Capital building but figured it was our civic duty as parents to show the kids. I'm glad I went in, it's a spectacularly elegant building.

Liberty— the state of being free within society from oppressive restrictions imposed by authority on one’s way of life, behavior, or political views. Words to live by.

The symmetrical design was absolutely beautiful.

The way home was clearly marked.

There was so much to photograph, including an action shot of Will.

A badger stands sentry over the Supreme Court— I wonder if he's related to Honey Badger?

The highlights of the Farmer's Market were: pickled things, 'frost-kissed' spinach, flowers, cheese and bread. I can't wait to visit in July when the stands will be bursting with fresh fruit and vegetables.

These cow cookies were seriously good.

The kids were wondering why a stuffed lioness was hanging out in a shop window in Wisconsin. I couldn't come with a plausible explanation so we decided to take a photo of her and move on.

Who doesn't like hot and steamy buns?

The Teddy Tantrum Zone and pasties. I'm not clear what the two have to do with each other but like the stuffed lioness, we chalked it up to Madison wackiness and went to lunch.

There were musicians on every street corner— cellos, guitars, banjos and accordions. After a morning in Madison, I know Jack is going to have the time of his life when he leaves in September. There are so many colors, textures and experiences waiting for him around the square, it's a vibrant place for a young man to start his next chapter.

A Field Of Ramps, A Few Fiddleheads & Ham Salad

Last year my friend, Kathy, stopped at the house with a bundle of wild ramps (read about it here). That bundle of ramps seemed like a magical gift from the forest— a bit wildness in my kitchen waiting to feed us with its memories of spring water and emerging life. This year, I wanted to find my own secret patch but had no idea where to start. Foraging would not make the list of the top 100 skills Mary Dougherty possesses but I was eager to learn. As usual, I had everything I needed right in front of me.

Ellen and her husband, Eric, own Blue Vista Farm (read about our blueberry picking adventure here) and not only is she a maven of healing plants, she one of my dearest friends. She just completed her Earth Medicine Apprenticeship and when she graciously agreed to share her spot with me, I knew it was going to be good. We hiked into the woods, over a log and into a field of ramps that blew my mind— it was a patch of spring green leaves with an aroma of wet forest floor and wild onions.

Ellen found some wild currant plants on our way through the forest. It was enlightening to spend a couple of hours with her. She has a strong connection to nature and it was fun to learn a little about the plants I see everyday. We're doing a cooking class on July 12, Gathering for the Table: Celebrating the Sacred in our Food, at Blue Vista Farm. I can't wait to cook freshly foraged greens and have dinner in her garden, overlooking the Lake. It's going to be an amazing night.

Ellen's patch of ramps was epic— they were everywhere I looked. Ramps grow slowly and are sensitive to over harvesting. A good rule of thumb is a ratio of 1 to 20 (harvest one and leave 20).

We found this Robin's egg on our way back to the car— a good omen for the new beginnings we are blessed with every spring.

Why ham salad, you ask? There are two reasons— I love ham salad (made with Hellman's) and ramps are the perfect substitute for green onions. My Mom used to make ham salad, with a manual meat grinder that she clamped on the counter, after Easter every year. I can't say it was one of my favorite foods growing up but like blue cheese and pâté, it grew on me as I grew up. I made a sandwich yesterday with lettuce, tomato and ham salad that rocked (an HSLT sandwich) but it's really good spread on Ritz crackers as well.

Ham Salad With Ramps

1 pound ham, cubed
3 tbsp. capers, chopped
8 pickled jalapeno, chopped
4 tbsp. ramp leaves, finely chopped
1/4 cup ramps (white and light pinks parts), chopped
1/8 cup red onion, chopped
1/2 cup Hellman's mayonnaise
2 tbsp. Dijon mustard
Kosher salt and pepper, to taste

Preparation
Place ham in a food processor and pulse until roughly chopped. Transfer to a large bowl, add all other ingredients and stir to combine thoroughly. Taste for salt and pepper and chill for at least 2 hours. Keeps for about a week, covered, in the refrigerator.

There's So Many Good Wines To Seek Out

2009 Ghostwriter Chardonnay

This is not your usual California Chardonnay— it's deep golden-yellow color, perfume-y nose and slightly oxidized finish lets you know you're not in Kansas (or California) anymore. I bought it because I like the winemaker's (Kenny Likitprakong) style— all his wines are just a little different from what you'd expect from a Pinot Noir, Zinfandel or Chardonnay. This bottle is ready to drink now. It's on the cusp of beginning to show its age, but if you can find a bottle, give it a try.  I guarantee it's not what you're expecting— almonds, orange and honey with just a touch of oak but I bet you won't forget it.

2010 Renwood Zinfandel 'Premier Old Vine'

California knows how to 'do' Zinfandel and this one is a perfect example— ripe and lush with a dusty finish. It is definitely on the sweeter side, lots of dried fruit at first, but then the wine moves into cherries, spice and black pepper on the finish. It's acidity balances all the fruit nicely and it has a pronounced vanilla, raspberry and blackberry nose. All in all, a great wine for $20.00 and one I'm going to keep around the house.

Orin Swift E-1 Locations Wine

To say I was excited to try this wine is an understatement. Dave Phinney (of the Prisoner and Saldo fame) is another of my favorite wine makers and I love Spanish wine— I knew this was going to be good. And it was, I mean how can you go wrong with a blend of Grenache from Priorat, Tempranillo from Rioja, and Carignan from Ribera del Duero? It starts with a ripe nose of ripe blackberry, a little sage and violets and deposits you in a zesty and bright land full of ripe fruit, jam and figs with a few smoky and meaty notes thrown in for good measure. It's a nicely balanced, medium bodied, easy drinking wine for 18.00. This one is definitely worth seeking out. I'm on the lookout for more, it's that good for the price.

2010 Maison Alain Paret Valvigneyre Cotes du Rhone Syrah

This wine is 100% Syrah, harvested from 30 year-old vines in the Northern Rhone Valley. It pours a dark purple-ish black in the glass and has a nose of tart cherries, raspberries and herbs. It is medium bodied with plum, cherries and blackberry jam flavors and finishes with a bit of anise, minerals and smoke. It's definitely on the austere side but is nicely defined, with good lingering acidity. If you are looking for a bottle of wine with a bit of nuance, fruit and lively acidity, this is the one. If you want a fruit bomb— might I suggest the Renwood Zinfandel?

2008 Portal del Montsant Santbru Montsant Carinyenes Velles

As my wine tastes evolve, I've decided I was a Spaniard in another life because I can't get enough Spanish wine. It's a proprietary blend of Syrah and Carinena from very old vines and reminds me a little of Black Slate Priorat. There are lots of candied cherry notes, crisp acidity, ripe tannins and a nice long finish. Wine Spectator had this to say about this beauty, 'Featuring aromas of kirsch and blackberry, this dense red shows firm tannins that give way to ripe fruit, mountain herb and licorice flavors. Not muscular, but racy and long. Drink now through 2016. 91 points'. Trust me, they know what they're talking about— I'm saving my other two bottles for a special occasion.

2007 Bodega del Abad Carracedo Bierzo Mencia

More Spanish wine but this time it's a Mencia from Bierzo. It's another Wine Spectator darling, 'Plush and expressive, this modern red shows a dense, velvety texture that carries kirsch, plum, cocoa, anise and herbal flavors, with well-integrated tannins and just enough acidity to keep it all lively. 93 points.'— they pretty much nailed it on the head. It's a complex wine that needs a two or three hour decant or a couple additional years in the bottle to really show showcase the power of the Mencia grape. I need to explore Mencia a little more, it tastes like Cabernet Franc's Spanish cousin. Wine exploration, now that's a concept I can really get behind!

Chocolate, Hazelnut & Salted Caramel Tart

If you come to my house for dinner and you ask the inevitable, 'what can I bring'— I will either say nothing (I like all my food to match) or I'll say dessert. I am definitely a pinch-hitter when it come to anything sweet— I know exactly what to do with a pile of cheese or green beans but a pile of pastry dough tends to make me break out in hives. Rachel Allen's Favorite Food At Home was a dessert game changer— now I'm a pinch hitter with a kick ass tart up my sleeve.

Hazelnut, Chocolate & Salted Caramel Tart(adapted from Rachel Allen's Favorite Food At Home)

Pastry Crust
2 cups all-purpose flour
9 tbsp butter, diced and softened
1 egg, beaten
3 tbsp water
2 tbsp powdered sugar

Hazelnut Salted Caramel
6 tbsp butter
1/2 cup cream
1 cup light brown sugar
3 tbsp spiced rum
5 ounces hazelnuts, roasted and coarsely chopped
2 tbsp Maldon sea salt

Chocolate Ganache
3/4 cup cream
7 ounces dark chocolate, broken into pieces

Preparation
Preheat the oven to 350 degrees and grease or butter your tart pan. Place the flour, butter and powdered sugar in a food processor. Process for a few seconds, then add the beaten egg and continue processing. Add the water, 1 tbsp at a time, until the dough just comes together. Flatten out the ball of dough into a thickness to about 1 1/4 inches, wrap in plastic and place in refrigerator for at least 30 minutes.

Remove the pastry from fridge and place the pastry between two sheets of plastic. Using a rolling-pin, roll it out until it is about 1/8 inch thick. Removing the top layer of the plastic wrap. place the pastry upside-down (plastic facing up) in the greased or buttered tart pan. Press into the edges and using your thumbs, 'cut' the top of the pastry on the edge of the tart pan. Remove the plastic and place in freezer for 10 - 15 minutes.

Blind bake the pastry dough for about 15 minutes or until the pastry feels dry. Remove from oven and set aside.

Place the butter, cream, rum and brown sugar in a saucepan, bring to a boil and then simmer for 2 - 3 minutes until slightly thickened. Remove the heat and add the hazelnuts and allow to cool. Spread evenly over the cooked tart shell, sprinkle the salt over the caramel/hazelnut mixture and set aside.

Place the cream in a saucepan and bring to boil. Remove from the heat and add the chocolate immediately, stirring until the chocolate is thoroughly combined with the cream. Pour over the hazelnut caramel in the pastry shell.

Place the tart in the fridge until the chocolate ganche has set. If you are keeping it in the fridge, remove from the fridge a few hours before serving and let come back to room temperature.

Phyllis's Eggs & Prosciutto Wrapped Asparagus Salad

Dana and Kathy have a sassy and very spunky duck named Phyllis— a quacking force to be reckoned with. I'm pretty sure she has a touch of PTSD because a bobcat filled his belly with her fellow duck companions last year and as the lone survivor, the quacking is her way of letting that bobcat know she's still standing. She celebrates everyday with a chorus of quack, quack, quacking and now that she has three new duck pals to boss around, she's happy (and laying eggs).

When Kathy came over for dinner and handed me a container full of duck eggs, I was so happy and thankful Phyllis out-foxed the bobcat. Duck eggs have the most lovely, rick yolk and that means two things: poached eggs or hollandaise sauce. Since I had a quart of Julie and Charly's maple syrup and a package of prosciutto in the fridge, I settled on a salad topped with a poached egg and prosciutto wrapped asparagus bundles with a maple bacon vinaigrette. I've always loved that old school spinach salad with a hard-boiled egg and warm bacon dressing and this version was an homage to that salty and egg-y salad.

I've mentioned these egg poaching cups (link here) before but they have changed my life— I'm guaranteed a beautifully runny yolk every time (which definitely was not the case when I was trying to poach them the old-fashioned way).

Poached Duck Egg on a Salad with Prosciutto Wrapped Asparagus Bundles & a Maple Bacon Vinaigrette

Salad Dressing
5 strips bacon, chopped
3 tbsp real maple syrup
5 tbsp sherry vinegar
1 tbsp honey
4 tbsp olive oil
1 1/2 tsp Dijon mustard
1 tsp shallot, minced
Salt and pepper, to taste

Salad Ingredients
1 large bunch of asparagus, washed and trimmed
5 - 7 pieces of prosciutto (depending on how many bundles you end up with)
12 ounces spinach or lettuce
4 duck eggs, poached
1 Vidalia onion, sliced
4 tbsp olive oil
Salt and pepper, to taste

Preparation
Put bacon in a medium skillet and cook over medium heat. Cook until bacon is golden brown and remove pan from heat. Transfer bacon to a paper towel, reserving bacon drippings. Reserve 4 tbsp of drippings in the pan. Whisk maple syrup, vinegar, shallot and honey into the drippings. Return the pan to medium heat, bring vinaigrette to a simmer and cook for about 5 minutes. Whisk in mustard and olive oil until incorporated and then stir in bacon pieces. Transfer dressing to a bowl and set aside.

Place 2 tbsp of oil in a large sauté pan and add the sliced onions. Cook over medium heat until the onions are golden brown and caramelized, about 20 minutes. Remove from pan and set aside.

Preheat oven to 400 degrees. Wrap one piece of prosciutto around 3 - 5 pieces of asparagus and place on a sheet tray lined with parchment. Drizzle the remaining 2 tbsp of olive oil over the bundles, sprinkle with salt and pepper and place in oven. Bake for 15 - 20 minutes or until the prosciutto is crisp and the asparagus is softened. Remove from the oven and set aside.

Divide the salad greens between four plates, place the onions, asparagus bundles and poached eggs on top. Spoon the warm bacon vinaigrette over the top and serve immediately.

Divide the salad greens between four plates, place the onions, asparagus bundles and poached eggs on top. Spoon the warm bacon vinaigrette over the top and serve immediately.

Bears In Trees

Charlie and I were on our way to Burke's house in early May (after our last snow storm) when Charlie said he thought he saw a bear in a tree. We turned around and sure enough, there was a black fur ball nestled in the crook of the tree, sound asleep. I dropped Charlie off at Burke's, grabbed my camera and went back to visit the bear and get a few photos. I hiked to the other side of the ravine and waited, and waited, and waited. That bear was in a deep slumber and my requests for a photo opportunity were ignored. During my hour-long vigil, I started to wonder if the bear was sick, needed rescuing or worse, dead in the tree. Give me enough time and I will conjure up a worst scenario that will knock your socks off.

I'm the first to admit I have a tendency to attempt to rescue any animal I think may need assistance (whether the animal actually wants my help, or not). Case in point— the time one of the dogs unearthed a rabbit nest full of babies and I thought I could be the rabbit mama until they were old enough to fend for themselves. I knew enough to wait and see if their real rabbit mama showed up but after two days, it wasn't looking good. I looked on the internet, avoiding all websites that recommended leaving well enough alone, and found some info about feeding the babies goat's milk with an eyedropper. I called my friend Jill who had some frozen goat's milk (it's still in my freezer) and ran up to her house to get the supplies to save the babies. I returned home, washed my hands and the eyedropper, put a bunch of soft rags in a box, warmed the milk and went to the nest to start my newest mothering role but it was empty— no bunnies or bunny parts to be seen. I'm sticking with the 'mama rabbit re-located her babies to save them from my well-meaning ministrations' story— coyotes don't eat during the day, right?

Talk about an empty nest syndrome, I thought about those little bunnies for days and wondered what I should have done differently. After careful reflection, I decided this lesson was about leaving well enough alone and trusting everything will be as it should be— without my help. Enter the sleeping bear in the tree. I remembered my baby rabbit lesson but decided it probably wasn't a cross-species lesson and this bear might need my help. I called the DNR and spoke to a nice woman who assured me the bear most likely went back into a mini hibernation because of the late season snowfall. Sounded plausible enough but after two days of checking on the bear, I had convinced myself he was injured, couldn't get down and might be hungry. This is where Jill comes in again (she must be my karmic wild animal rescue food supplier), she had a couple of fish skins lying around— maybe a little fishy snack might be a nice way to get the bear out of the tree?

I placed the fish skin near the tree, told the bear there was a snack waiting if he decided to get out of the tree and went home. Remember what I mentioned earlier about my lightening quick worst case scenario development skills? Well, I worried the bear would smell the fish and in his sleep-addled brain, fall out the tree. Thereby making my good intentions the sole cause of his injury or demise. I hopped back into the car, got to the tree just in time to see an enormous raven flying away with the entire pile of fish skins. At that point, I surrendered. It was obvious nature was telling me to back off, go home and stop trying to feed the bunnies and bears. A couple of days later, it warmed up and the bear was out of the tree. He was just waiting for the right time to wake up and because I don't speak bear, he had no way to tell me. But he visited today and that counts for a lot in my book.

Meghan was at the pond and saw him walk down into our ravine, get a drink from the stream and head down the driveway. Something made him turn around and he started towards our house. Ted asked him what he was doing and he answered the question by climbing the nearest tree and watching us. We watched him (from the house) for a couple of hours and when we returned home from Jack's award ceremony, he was gone. I laid some tobacco at the base of the tree and said a prayer of thanks for having such an honored guest in our yard for the afternoon. Lesson # 3,227— sometimes bears will show up all on their own, without my help.

An April Afternoon In Mineral Point

Jack's campus tour was in April and we decided a good old-fashioned family road-trip was in order. We packed everyone, and all their stuff, in the car and drove six hours south to Madison. Friday morning, Ted and Jack headed into Madison and Kelly, the kids and I headed to Mineral Point, an old mining town and the birthplace of the Badger State nickname. The 'driftless' region of Southwestern Wisconsin was untouched by the glaciers that rolled through millions of years ago and that glacial detour left the minerals close to the surface and easily accessible. Some of the early miners lived in holes they burrowed in the ground that resembled badger holes and the name stuck. In the 1820's, the Cornish arrived and built the beautiful stone buildings that line the streets today— more picturesque than holes in the hills.

Most of the town was closed the day we visited, it was still early in the season, but the first shop we visited, Longbranch Gallery, was a treasure trove of beautiful and interesting artwork. The oil painting of Onions and Leeks by Lois Eakin caught my eye when we walked in the gallery— the warmth of the painting appealed to my color starved eyes.

The artist in residence at Longbranch Gallery, Tom Kelly, welcomed us into his studio to take photos and ask questions about his extraordinary collections. It was literally a feast for the eyes and I could have spent hours exploring the shelves, corners and cabinets. He was so gracious to the kids and they walked away from our 20 minute encounter with a new appreciation for the creative and artistic process. I can't wait to go back and visit this summer.

The stone buildings were beautifully preserved— it looked like a Cornish village (the grey skies added a special authentic touch).

Our last stop on our way to lunch was de la Pear, a textile and architectural salvage shop. Will and I just about fell over when we walked through the door into the salvage shop— it was a photographer's dream.

There was something about a room full of forgotten, although once useful or treasured, items that resonated with me. It was such a contrast to Tom's thoughtfully gathered collection but equally as beautiful.

I can add Mineral Point to my list of 'food firsts'— I ordered a pasty for lunch, when in Rome, right? We sat at the lunch counter of the Rooster Café, drank malts made with Schoep's ice cream and planned the next leg of our journey.

On our way to Hook's Cheese Company (they had fresh curds advertised— another 'food first' for us), we stopped at Shake Rag Alley, a non-profit school of arts and crafts.

According to the Shake Rag Alley website, 'there’s a local legend that miners’ wives used to shake a rag outside their doors to call their husbands mining the hillsides home for dinner, but that’s a bit fanciful. Truth is, in several mining towns, “Shake Rag” was the name of a poor residential area'. What was once a poor residential area is now a picturesque little campus for the arts, how cool is that?

Three Of My Favorite Food Groups

2010 Domaine du Grand Montmirail Gigondas Cuvée Vieilles Vignes

I think I've mentioned this before but I'll say it again— Gigondas (jhee gohn dahs) is one of my favorite wine words to say, second only to  Montepulciano d’Abruzzo (mon tae pul chee AH noh dah BRUTE so). Throw in a little Vielles Vignes and you might just feel un peu français, at the very least you'll be drinking a nice glass of wine. The Southern Rhone region is known for rich, warm and spicy blends of Grenache, Syrah and Mourvedre— it's my favorite region in France. According to the Rhone Report, the 2010 Montmirail Gigondas is 'loaded with classical aromas of wild herbs, pepper, spice, and leather, as well as copious amounts of licorice drenched bing cherry and blackberry styled fruits, this hits the palate with a full-bodied, decadent, and layered texture that coats the mouth. Despite all of the fruit, it has solid underlying structure and plenty of freshness. While no doubt superb now, it will be even better with a handful of years in the cellar, and shine for 10-12 years. 93 points'.

This 15-year-old cheddar was my first introduction to Fromagination in Madison. Bob and Kelly brought a hunk of this crystalline, smooth cheddar to Bayfield and I was hooked. I knew I had a seriously good reason to drive 6 hours south (Jack's going to school down there) but the idea of an entire store devoted to cheese sealed the deal. 15-year-old cheese and a 19-year-old freshman— I'm going to be spending some time in Madison.

I don't have much of sweet tooth, more of a cheese tooth, but these little chocolates gave that 15-year-old cheddar a serious run for its money. They are from a shop in Madison called Candinas (another reason to make the journey) and they were little nuggets of smooth, chocolatey goodness wrapped up in the most beautiful packaging I've seen.

Sassy Quiche

I'm back after a hiatus due to a pinched nerve in my neck and a numb right arm— I have a whole new appreciation for the phrase 'a pain in the neck', heating pads and Ben-Gay. I have to admit, I really missed taking pictures and writing about my dinners, dogs, waterfalls, photo safaris and all the other pieces that make up the mosaic of a Mary Dougherty day. The good news is it forced me to (kind of) clean up my hedonistic eating habits and I'm proud to say I throw back a quart of green smoothie every morning. And there's even more good news— before my nerves staged their insurrection in my neck, I made these beautiful little quiches with Sassy Nanny chevre and Northern Smokehaus pancetta. There's something about my red tartlet pans that makes my heart go pitter-pat (and it doesn't hurt there was pancetta and chevre involved).

I feel like I've catapulted myself over into 'I have a rolling-pin and I know how to use it' land every time I make my own shortcrust pastry, it's not as hard as I thought and nine times out of ten, it actually works out. When I find myself in 'what the hell am I supposed to do with this rolling pin' land, there is a package of Pillsbury pie crusts in the freezer that's perfectly acceptable and flaky. I used a recipe from Rachel Allen (recipe here) but use whatever recipe (or refrigerated pie crust) you feel comfortable with— it's really all about the filling, in my opinion.

Sassy Quiche

6 tartlet pans
3 tbsp butter, melted for the tartlet pans
1 batch of shortcrust pastry or a package of refrigerated pie crusts
3/4 cup red onion, chopped
3/4 pound of pancetta or bacon
1/2 cup of Parmesan, shredded
3/4 pound Sassy Nanny chevre
4 tbsp fresh rosemary, chopped
6 eggs, lightly beaten
1 1/4 cup heavy cream
salt and pepper to taste

Preparation
Preheat the oven to 375 degrees. In a medium sauté pan, cook the pancetta or bacon until crisp, remove from the pan and set aside. In the same pan you cooked the pancetta, add the red onion and cook until lightly browned. Remove from the pan and set aside with the pancetta. Brush the interiors of the tartlet pans with butter and place rounds of shortcrust pastry in each pan. Press the dough firmly into the sides and bottom of each pan, sprinkle the parmesan over the bottom and set aside. Divide the chevre into 6 equal portions and add it, along with pancetta and onions, to each pan. Combine the eggs and cream, pour into each tartlet pan (until it's about a 1/4 inch from the top of the crust) and sprinkle the rosemary over each pan. Bake in the preheated 375 degree oven for about 30 minutes or until filling sets and top of quiche is lightly browned. Allow to cool 10 minutes before serving.