Cheese Plate 101

For those not in the know, I am very fancy. We enjoy a fine selection of canned beans in the cupboard, toss rocks for our dog to retrieve and if you're lucky I'll even wear make-up on the weekend.

Another way we keep it fancy is by enjoying cheese plates down at the beach on a Saturday evening. If you live in Kona, head down to Westside Wines where you can buy samples of their large cheese collection for $2-3 plus a great bottle of wine to wash it down.

For this fancy cheese plate date you'll need:

- A decent bottle of wine. White or rose is nice for a picnic, but get what you like.
- A selection of cheeses. If you are lucky enough to live near a cheese store, grab a few small portions of whatever sounds good, try some you've never heard of. Be bold. If you are not lucky enough to live near a cheese store, places like Safeway have some decent cheeses. Or slice up the cheddar block in your fridge, it's no big deal.
- Root through the contents of your refrigerator door for things like olives, artichoke hearts, peppers, pickles, kim chee maybe a sauce or two. Don't worry about trying to pair them with the cheese, just grab.
- Cut some veggies and fruit like cucumbers, broccoli, peppers, carrots, apples or peaches. Fresh herbs are nice.
- Find some bread or crackers.
- Pack up your goodies, don't forget wine glasses, a wine key, a cutting board, small knife, and some napkins.
- Find a picnic spot. We like Otec because we can bring the puppy.
- Mix and match! A little brie with some honey and jalepeno? Truffled goat cheese on toast with olives? Get creative. Get fancy.

The puppy that chases rocks

San Juan Islands Sailing

First of all, I have to tell you guys this has been the most epic summer of my entire life. Better than slip 'n slides and blackberry picking at eight, better than Latin American living at 16, better than hostel jumping at 20, and (maybe) even better than New York City last year. If you've been following this summer, you know that I spent most of my time leading a youth conservation corp team here in Hawaii and camping in some of the most remote places on the Big Island. To top it all off, I spent the last week of summer break sailing in the San Juan Islands in Washington state.

Some of you may know that we plan to drop everything in the very near future in favor of living on a sail boat. We will probably begin our adventures in the Pacific Northwest so we found a charter boat company that offered a "learn and cruise" trip to get some hands-on sailing experience. Through San Juan Sailing we sailed and lived aboard for a week with another couple and a captain who taught us to sail along the way. I am proud to say I am now a legit sailor. LEGIT. And I didn't even get sick once. For the girl who gets nauseous on a playground swing this is big news.

The sailing course included three written exams and a series of practical "tests" that we practiced at sea. Once you pass all three courses you can charter a boat from San Juan Sailing all on your own.

Most nights we anchored in a sheltered bay of one of the small islands where we could row on shore for a little hiking and beach combing. The water was stand-still calm. The other couple cruising with us got their crabbing license so we were lucky enough to have fresh crab on board a couple times. Meals were cooked and eaten family style and luckily all of us got along very well.

We also spent a night at the marina in Friday Harbor, an adorable little port town with scads of art galleries and teeny cafes. We pounded some oysters and sipped on local beer and just about died when the moon rose out of the purple sunset glow. The water is so clear around there, you can see starfish and all sorts of creatures everywhere.

Every morning we would get geared up and sail to a new anchorage. Being out on the water sailing was two parts challenging and two parts fun. I liked learning about navigation and charting and feeling pretty confident that with some practice I'll get the whole sail trimming thing down, too.

Mainly, I'm looking forward to eating fresh crab, fish, clams and mussels often and with gusto.

I spent a lot of time before this trip worrying about being a total sailor failure and letting my husband down. If it weren't for the confidence boost from leading a group of teenagers through a summer of the hardest physical labor ever, well let's just say that boost was needed.

This vacation will sustain me for a good long while.

I can still taste the oysters.

Pu'uwa'awa'a Camping and Conservation

Sunset from the Lake House at Pu'uwa'awa'a

Last week I spend five days camping with four teenagers with Kupu, a youth conservation organization at Pu'uwa'awa'a, a few miles north of Kona on the upper road to Waimea.

View from the top of the puu

We spent most of our time planting native trees, removing invasive species, and collecting seeds.

Sunrise from the Lake House at Pu'uwa'awa'a, nene geese in the water

I've learned so much already, it feels so good to get this chance to give back to the 'aina.

Mountain views for days

Not to mention all the amazing places we've been privy to, and all the rare species of plants and animals we've seen.

Sunrise again and more nene

Of course, my first priority when it comes to camping is food. Because we are a conservation group, I feel it's important to try to eat as sustainably as possible. The menu below shows a break down of what we prepared each day, the meals that are starred were made with locally grown or produced products. I was able to purchase locally grown/made meat, fruits, vegetables, tortillas, eggs, shoyu, and tofu. Most of the meals went over pretty well with the team, except the tofu curry, they were not so hot on meatless meals.

Day	Meal	KP
Monday	*Dinner: Fish Tacos*	Cook: N, A
		Clean: J, J
Tuesday	*Breakfast: burritos*	Cook: Gwen
		Clean: N, A
	Lunch: sandwiches, chips, fruit	Gwen
	*Dinner: Teri beef stir-fry w/ rice*	Cook: J, J Clean: Gwen
Wednesday	Breakfast: bagels/yogurt/fruit	A, N
	Lunch: sandwiches, chips, fruit	Gwen
	*Dinner: Kalua pork sandwiches w/ slaw & sweet potatoes*	Cook: A, N Clean: J, J
Thursday	Breakfast: bagels/yogurt/fruit	J, J
	Lunch: leftovers, chips, fruit	Gwen
	*Dinner: tofu curry with rice*	Cook: Gwen Clean: N, A
Friday	Breakfast: bagels/yogurt/fruit	J, J
	Lunch: sandwiches, chips, fruit	Gwen

Peanut Butter Banana Pancakes

I've been waiting a few years now for weekends like this. For the chance to sleep in with a puppy curled next to my back and a husband under my arm. For a side by side comparison of espresso, drip, and French pressed coffee because we have the time. For a long debate on pancakes which finally ends in peanut butter banana. For beach days involving elaborate picnic rituals with no mind to the time or the cell phone gods.

I'd cruised many a weekend solo as my industrious other half ran a business. I'm happy to tell you my weekends are revived now that said business is sold. We are beyond ourselves with relief and happiness. We are more than ready to move on to other things.

Other things include some sailing and roadtripping, more on that later. For now, I'm pretty excited about weekends.

Peanut Butter Banana Pancakes
inspired by Joy the Baker

1 egg
2 TBL melted butter, plus more for cooking
2 TBL peanut butter
1 cup buttermilk or milk
1 tsp vanilla extract
1 cup flour
1 TBL sugar
1 tsp baking powder
1/2 tsp baking soda
1/2 tsp salt
3 apple bananas, sliced (or 2 regular bananas)
maple syrup to serve

In a medium bowl mix egg, melted butter, peanut butter, milk, and vanilla until smooth. Add flour, sugar, baking powder, soda, and salt and mix until well combined. Fold in banana slices.

In a pan over medium heat add a little butter or oil. Spoon about 2 TBL batter and 4 banana slices into the pan for each pancake. When little bubbles start to form in the batter, flip and cook for another minute or so. Repeat, repeat until all batter is used up.

Top with more banana slices, if desired, and pure maple syrup. Enjoy!

Why do you love food?

Food. Where do I begin? It starts somewhere between boiling salted water until it was dry just to see what would happen and staring, longingly, for hours at the glossy pages of my mother’s Betty Crocker cookbook. I’d hover around my father, working over our little white enamel gas stove throwing bits of leftover chicken, the last of the cabbage, and squirts of teriyaki sauce into a pot to turn out something comforting for us on a rainy Portland night.

In college, my palate seared after a year of suffering through carbohydrate-sprayed cafeteria lettuce, I managed to cook all my meals in a dorm room, to the marvel of my peers. “How DO you make a bean burrito?” they’d ask. “That chicken smells divine,” they’d cluck. And of course it was far from divine, it was chicken breast in a pan with some salt.

At one point I even pledged to drop-out of university to attend culinary school. But my family, lovers of higher education that they are, didn’t approve. Looking back, I’m still not sure why I’d listened.

Luck flew me to Spain for a semester abroad where a sense of adventure in eating was born. I dove into barnacles, snails, stinky cured pork hanging from the ceiling, curious wines, and a little something called saffron. I visited Greece and fell in love with gyros pita, olive oil, the darkest greens, and foraged herbs. Never had I ever loved a cheese as much as feta. The yogurt, the homemade wine, the lamb, it was all so much and yet never enough. Around and around Europe I went, sampling and tasting, cooing and coveting. My love for global cuisine was bred.

As a real adult I now live on the Big Island of Hawaii, in a whole new world of sub-tropical edible wonders. I’m passionate now about discovering and preserving Hawaiian food culture.

But I feel that I’ve reached a plateau with my culinary skills that can only be continued with a culinary education.  Please help me continue along my path toward great cooking, and this time, I won’t let my family talk me out of it.

*This was my submission to the Food Network Great Food Truck Race scholarship contest in answer to the following prompt: "What cuisines are you passionate about? Explain how a scholarship from The International Culinary Schools at The Art Institutes could help you expand your knowledge of global cuisines." Wish me luck. 

PS: there is still time to enter if you are interested, deadline is 2/28/13.

Dear 2012,

The thing I most want to do in this moment is make a giant list of all the wrong that occurred in the year  of our Lord 2012. I want to wallow in it, highlight it, point out how unfair everything that ever happened in 2012 ever was. I want you to feel sorry for me. I want to feel sorry for myself. For not being skinnier, for not being in my 20s, for not becoming a famous blogger, for never seeming to do the things I really really really want to do. For failing to do everything perfectly, including choosing the right career and keeping an impeccable garden. I realize while writing this that my greatest sin, in my own mind, it not achieving perfection.

Because there's the times that I do those things that I really really really want to do. And those wonderful things get covered up by clouds of self doubt, by some need to tell myself, hey you really ought to have done better. I'm always raining on my own damn parade. Truth is, the failures and unexpected twists that have made up this past year are the very things that have gotten me through it.

This year, I really really really wanted to know what it felt like to live in New York. You know, the glam, the hustle and bustle, the opportunities. So I just did that, went to New York and acted like I lived there for a few weeks. And it worked, I totally felt like I did live there. Nothing glamorous happened save for a dirty martini at sunset atop the Met. Except that everything glamorous did happen including a rained out Shakespeare in the park performance, dollar oysters around every corner, art appreciation lessons from a stranger at the Brooklyn museum, frog legs at Coney Island, matinee ballet amid fur clad seniors, and standing-room only Mets baseball. In New York, the glamour is in the grit.

After visiting Ellis Island, whose museum on American immigration is truly inspirational, I did a quick search on their website just to see if there were any relatives who'd passed through. Without much searching at all, I found a record from 1922 of my grandfather returning to the US from Turkey. The document indicated he was in Constantinople on business.

My grandfather died when my father was small, so I never knew him and neither did he. We knew next to nothing about the man. Maybe because my grandmother was too devastated to talk about him, or maybe because she didn't know him well herself. We will never know. But staring at that computer screen in my friend's studio apartment in Manhattan suddenly brought the man to life. Next to his name on the Ellis Island manifest document was a short description of his trip length and purpose, as well as his date of birth and an address in Brooklyn, New York. Now, we'd known he'd been born somewhere in New York, but we didn't know anything about his childhood or young adult life. For the first time in my life I needed to know everything there was to know about this man.

I stayed up all night and spent the next few days feverishly researching documents and family trees, pouring over census records and Ancestry.com. Meanwhile, my friend helped me find a long-term rental apartment in Brooklyn, steps from Prospect Park. I lugged my possessions up seven flights of the stone, World War II era building and into my new digs on the well-heated top floor apartment with a view of the neighbor's window across the breezeway and my very own rusted fire-escape. This was definitely the ideal New York living I'd been striving for. After settling in a bit, I took a walk to orient myself to the nearest subway stops, grocery stores and outrageously bad coffee shops I would learn to love in the weeks to come. And there it was, under shady sidewalk trees, lined on both sides with iconic brownstones behind wrought-iron fences, Greene Ave. The street my grandfather had listed as his address in 1922.

I laughed at serendipity and hung a left, admiring the homes and tiny flower gardens, looking for #1622. These brownstones are definitely pre-1922, I thought, his house is certainly still standing. As I passed #34 and #35, it occurred to me that 100 degrees was not ideal conditions for such a long walk. It was good enough in that moment to simply walk where he walked, to exist where he existed.

Turns out #1622 no longer stands. But in the weeks that followed, I found much more than an old brownstone. My obsessive family research led me to my grandfather's siblings (who we never knew about) and their children and their children. I looked one of them up in the old-fashioned Yellow Pages and called the number. And she answered. Without much explaining at all she knew who I was and on my very last day in New York I got to meet her, at Grand Central station, amid the definition of hustle and bustle.

Just like that my father, who never had an uncle or aunt or any family at all, had a cousin. And I, who'd imagined my summer wistfully drinking cocktails at jazz bars while writing poetry on napkins, had discovered that I didn't need to know what it was like to live in New York, I was freaking from there.

In the end I ought to have done a lot more than I did in 2012. The year, as a whole, was far from perfect. Exactly where it should be.

5 Ways to Get Motivated

Dawson wants my sandwich

As great as sitting on the couch watching episode after episode of Dawson's Creek sounds, there are actually lots of things I really should be doing instead.

Ya know, like painting the badly scuffed baseboards and door jams in our house, submitting first quarter grades, or developing a new recipe for the upcoming Kona coffee recipe contest. But, here I sit,  eating scotchmallows and drinking tea, perpetually mesmerized by Pacey Witter.

People, I'm in serious need of some motivation. I do, however, have a few tricks up my sleeve.

1. Listen to some uplifting tunes. I have a special Pandora station dedicated to my good female friends Pat Benatar, Cindy Lauper, Kelly Clarkson, Alicia Keys, Janis Joplin, and Stevie Nicks. They always know what to say.

2. Watch an uplifting movie. Careful here. Some movies seem inspiring because they're our favorites, but films that play too heavily on our nostalgic sensibilities might bring us down even more. "Almost Famous," "The Karate Kid," and "A League of Their Own" are my go-tos.

3. Get out. If you are stuck in front of the TV, go to the next room. If you are stuck behind the wheel, take a different route home. If you are stuck in a dorm room, go to a coffee shop. Get out, get away. Fresh air is good for your synapses.

4. Make a list, set a deadline, divide your work in chunks. Blah, blah, blah, blah. Could this list be a little more cliched? That's why I'm skipping number 5 to say that, you know what? Sometimes nothing works. Sometimes life sits on your head while you're sleeping and all you can do is crawl deeper under the covers. Sometimes when all you want is to be highly productive, creative, and efficient you only get  frustrated, twisted, and buffered down with an inferiority complex.

I don't have that magic touch called "drive," but I do have something else, it's called "grit." Life can keep sitting on my head, but I'll figure out a way to move forward, however slowly. Sometimes this involves chocolate and Joshua Jackson. I can't help that.

A Bunch of...

I'm playing along again this week with Maui Shop Girl and her "Just Another Photo Challenge" series. This week the photo prompt was "A Bunch of..." I always have a bunch of something growing in the garden.

A bunch of shampoo ginger.

A bunch of broccoli flowers, which are edible as well as the leaves.

A bunch of basil. Pesto party here I come!

A bunch of papaya. My husband planted these trees from seed last year. It is amazing how fast they grow. Hoping to make some green papaya salad soon, one of my favorites.

I hope you'll join us by taking your own "A Bunch of..." photos. Cheers!

Eatin' Right in Minneapolis

Flowers at Mill City Farmers Market

You guys I've been busy. So so so busy.

With work. With school. With putting my house back together. With organizing book clubs and having birthdays and getting the garden straightened. With life.

And I don't like to be busy. When I'm busy I get stressed. And when I get stressed my face breaks out and I eat too much and exercise feels like a far off dream. And when those things happen I feel bad about how I'm living and I end up working out too hard or drinking too much and waste my only day off recovering.

Last week I made a mad dash trip to Minneapolis for the wedding of a dear friend. It's a 14 hour situation to get to Minneapolis that involved too much candy and not enough sleep. I was a little stressed about leaving all the busyness back home to pile up. But some things are once in a lifetime. Busyness is not once in a lifetime, busyness is all the time and it can wait. Seeing my friend all woman-like in her white dress and gorgeous smile walk down the aisle was more important than catching up on all the to-dos in all the world.

Congrats BooBoo!

In between all the wedding festivities I managed a stop at the Mill City Farmers Market and a lively meal at Travail. After reading about the Minneapolis food scene in Food & Wine Magazine, I was eager to explore the local flavors.

Wild rice at Mill City Farmers market

The farmers market was lively, bright, and full of great finds including wild rice, chocolates, flowers, cheeses, sausages, and the usual, but equally exciting, fruits, vegetables, eggs, and baked goods. My score of the morning was a prune and chocolate roll that was rather like a cross between a bagel and a donut.

Chefs/servers at Travail

Travail was a flurry of extravagant small plates with a focus on fine ingredients. My favorite was a corn chowder topped with popcorn. Plus, the atmosphere is "what must be the country’s most entertaining avant-garde food" as Food & Wine describes it. The servers are the chefs here, a unique but very welcome twist. Just like at home, the passion for the food goes right on the plate, instead of being lost in translation somewhere between the kitchen and your table, as it does in a typical restaurant.

Beef tartare at Travail

I'm happy to report that Minneapolis does it right, not only with the widespread use of locally grown and made ingredients, but in creating a cuisine of comfort food all their own.

Back to the grind.

Buck It! Summer's Over & I'm Almost 30

I guess it is September already. Summer is officially over, although since we started back to school in the beginning of August, it already feels like a long time ago. Trips were taken, food was eaten, and this summer was, in general, a really good time. I'm so glad Joy and Tracy suggested creating a summer bucket list, it got me super pumped and I'm happy to report that I checked (almost) everything off that list.

As a kid, I always enjoyed having a September birthday. I got all the benefits of having a summer birthday, backyard bbqs or parties in the park, while also celebrating in school. There was something so special about classroom cupcakes and the teacher leading us all in song.

This year, I'd rather crawl in a very dark cave, eat an enormous amount of cake and champagne, and emerge without anyone noticing that I, Gwen Edwards, am 30 years old. And for those that know me, this just isn't right. You see, I'm one of those people that loves a good birthday party, would never pass up a chance to blow out the candles and make another wish. And I won't bore you with the usual cliches, "Oh, I feel so old!", "Geez, I can't believe my 20s are over!" No, you see, that's just not what's bothering me at all.

It's just that, damn, what happened to those 30 years? It's a shock to the system to think, really consider, how many years it's been since I played softball, rode a roller coaster, saw my aunts and uncles, or went fishing. Time. Time. Time. It jut goes and goes and has no feeling at all. It selfishly rolls on and over my 30 birthday wishes, never stopping to ask me how I'm doing, no.

I don't have a problem with getting older. I just have a problem with time. Stop time, please, I need to finish my book, call my best friend, plan better lessons, cook my grandma's chicken and dumplings. I need to travel the world, have kids, start a business, write a book. But time is unmerciful, moving past me everyday without even a word or a smile.

When will it be too late? Time is surely not waiting around for me. I've gotta do those things I need to do, whether time likes it or not. Can I keep up with time? Probably not, but I'll not wait around for time to keep passing me by.

Here's to 30 more.

Sustainable Sunday: Broccoli Leaves

Broccoli leaves

I struggled to find something to write about on this Sustainable Sunday. The truth is I haven't been cooking much this summer, for a couple reasons.

As some of you are tired of hearing about, we are putting new flooring in our entire house, which is amazing and long overdue, but has taken longer than predicted. While we (actually mostly my incredibly talented husband) toil away at cutting, setting, and grouting tile, our house remains a cluttered and dusty mess. We just don't like being at home right now, and for me, competing with all the dust in the kitchen is less than ideal.

On top of that, I have been uber busy with work this year. I am back teaching middle school after my position at the elementary school was cut. This change is exciting for me, as it brings different challenges and I get to work with many teachers I respect and enjoy. It's just a whole lot of work starting from scratch in a new position with new classes and new subjects to teach. What I really mean to say is, I'm having trouble keeping up and staying positive. I'd love to be that person who embraces change and challenge with lots of energy and enthusiasm. In real life, I'm about to turn 30 and am just kinda over the constant change and challenge that is my job. That's all.

Broccoli overthrow in my garden. Look at all those leaves!

Can we get back to eating sustainably? I've been experimenting in my garden this year with some big ticket items like cabbage, eggplant, and broccoli. The broccoli has grown very well, but every time I harvest the crowns I wonder if it's worth the real estate in my small garden. The yield is pretty small compared to the room it takes up.

It turns out the leaves of the broccoli plant are edible. Rejoice fellow gardeners! Although, maybe I am way behind and you already knew this. You'll want to pick the leaves while they are still small and tender, bigger leaves will be more bitter and fibrous. You can cook them as you would chard, kale, or collards. I don't juice, but this would probably be a great addition to a juice or smoothie. If you do decide to use the larger leaves, remove the stem which will be hard to chew. Or, add them raw to this salad.

"Costco" Style Broccoli Salad
Also featured on Kahakai Kitchen 
serves 8-10 as a side

5 cups chopped broccoli
2 cups chopped broccoli leaves
1 cup shredded carrot
1 green onion, chopped
1 cup dried cranberries
1 cup roasted & salted almonds, roughly chopped

Dressing:
1/2 cup mayo
1/2 white vinegar
3 TBL sugar
1/4 tsp red pepper
black pepper to taste

In a large bowl, whisk together dressing ingredients. Chop salad ingredients and toss them in the bowl to coat. Allow the broccoli to soak up the dressing in the fridge for at least 30 minutes. Great as a potluck item. Enjoy!

Pineapple Upside Down Cake

I've been wanting to do a series on throwback recipes for awhile, and I'd say this pineapple upside down cake is the perfect way to start things off.

Growing up, dear old Betty Crocker was our go-to cookbook. Mom and I would flip through the flour-coated pages, oggling the perfect pastel petit fours and eloquently frosted layer cakes. But you see, mom and me, we're just not petit four kind of gals. Precision is not our forte. While we'd love to make the most beautiful of all pastries and have the family ooh and ahh, at the end of the day, we just can't be bothered. It's not a lack of patience, but rather a simple case of priorities. We want to make something delicious that doesn't take all damn day.

My memories of pineapple upside down cake involve a gooey, thin cake turned out from my father's well-seasoned cast iron skillet. Looking back, I'm not sure how we accomplished this, my own skillet today is so heavy I can't pick it up with one hand, so I made mine in a pie pan. Either way, this is a glorious cake, with lots of vintage flair. This was my husband's first time eating it, and the way he gushed was just the cutest thing. It was the first time in my life when I could say, "oh that old recipe? Why, I only make that when I don't care how it looks."

Pineapple Upside Down Cake
from Betty Crocker's Cookbook
Serves 8

Cake:
1 1/4 cup flour
1 cup sugar
1 1/2 tsp baking powder
1/2 tsp salt
1/4 milk
1/3 cup butter or shortening
1 egg
1 tsp vanilla

Topping:
1/4 cup butter
1/2 cup packed brown sugar
1 can drained pineapple, or 5 slices fresh
7 maraschino cherries (optional)

Preheat oven to 350. Melt butter (for topping) over low heat in a cake pan, pie pan, or skillet. Be sure the butter coats the entire pan. Sprinkle brown sugar evenly over butter in the bottom of the pan only. Place a pineapple slice in center of pan. Cut remaining slices in half and arrange around center slice. Place cherries in "holes" if desired.

To prepare the batter for the cake, measure all ingredients into a large bowl. Blend 30 seconds on low, scraping bowl constantly. Beat on high for 3 minutes, scraping occasionally. Pour into pan on top of arranged pineapples.

Bake for 35-40 minutes or until a toothpick inserted in the center comes out clean. Invert onto a plate, leaving the pan over the cake for a few minutes. Serve warm. Enjoy!

A Dominican Sweet 16

16 year old me in the Dominican Republic in 1996 with neighbor kids

The best summer of my youth was in 1996. At 16 I had it all; a car, a cute boyfriend, a varsity softball letterman jacket, long, wavy hair with blond highlights. The picture of the American Teenager. And then I was canon-fired across the country to a remote village in the Dominican Republic for 6 weeks.

Although I'd been planning the trip for nearly a year, nothing could have prepared me for adapting to a new culture, speaking a different language, being away from home for the first time and the drastic changes in myself that were to come of it.

Without much thought the previous year, I signed up for a program called Amigos de las Americas, an organization that sends youth into Latin American countries to complete community service projects during the summer months. All I really thought about at that point was that it would be rad to travel to another country and that it would look great on my college applications.

Ranch de la Guardia, Dominican Republic. My summer home in '96.

I was placed with two other girls my age in a town called Rancho de la Guardia, inland from the coast, about 4 miles from the Haitian border. We lived in a little shack next to our host family and quite happily settled in washing our clothes in a bucket, bathing in a waterfall, making midnight trips together to the latrine. Our host mother fed us bread and hot chocolate for dinner almost every night. We thought this was a pretty sweet deal, planting trees and speaking Spanish, no big deal.

But like all things, it got real. Here are a few excerpts from my journal:
"I'm not sure that I'm all for organizations like Amigos. Do these people really need our help? What are we doing here?"
"I'm totally going through culture shock...Sometimes it gets so frustrating to be around a lot of noise that you can't understand."
"We all cried a lot today and pretty much isolated ourselves in our room."
"I can't believe we have two days left. It's totally crazy. I think I might just die, or it will seem like all these people have. I can't bear the thought of leaving, but I can't bear the thought of staying either."

The house we stayed in that summer.

It got real not because we had no running water or TV, but because for the first time in my life, I realized there was more. That there was more than having great hair and perfect shoes, there was a whole world of people out there that had absolutely nothing to do with me. I came out of my teenaged shell and got a glimpse of the bigger picture. After coming home I threw out all my make-up, kept my hair short, and basically hated on all things "material." It took me a long time to reconcile what I'd experienced that summer with my life back home in Oregon. It took me an even longer while to figure out that it was me who'd benefitted from the experience, not necessarily the people I'd gone to "help."

Me (in gray) with my partners Amanda and Nicole and a friend

Nostalgia for this particular summer crept over me recently. I felt the best way to commemorate these feelings was to slow-cook a pot of beans and curl up on the couch with my journal and photo album. I laughed and laughed, flipping through the pages, remembering our neighbor boys whispering "I love you," and "do you like to kiss?" through slats in our door as we fell asleep on our mosquito net covered cots. Our favorite meal was "arroz con habichuelas" or rice and beans. I hope I'm doing the recipe, and this story, justice.

Dominican Rice and Beans
Also featured on Foodie Friends Friday
serves at least 8

1 pound kidney or red beans
1 quart chicken or vegetable stock
1 yellow onion
4 cloves garlic
1 jalapeno
1 TBL cumin
1 tsp chili powder (whatever you like)
salt & pepper
water, as needed
white rice

*I remember this dish being "soupy," as the beans were served separate from the rice. There was a lot of extra liquid in the bean pot, so that's the way I wrote this recipe, just FYI.

In your slow cooker, cover your pound of beans with water and soak over night. Drain and rinse, take the time to sort through them a bit, it's likely you'll find some dirt or rocks.

Add the drained beans back to the slow cooker along with the stock. If the stock doesn't cover the beans, add more water. Remember, we are going for soupy.

Chop your onion, garlic, and jalapeno and add to the pot. Toss in the spices and give it a stir. Watch the salt though as some stocks are saltier than others. It will be pretty spicy, so omit spicy ingredients if necessary. Turn it to low and let it cook overnight, or 8-10 hours.

To serve, spoon beans over hot cooked rice. Enjoy!

NYC Foodie Highlights

One of the best things in life ever is finding a terrific meal for a great price. It's a win win. Fortunately this type of win win is found easily in New York, where there is amazing food for next to nothing (let's be fair, I'm comparing to Hawaii prices). I know what you're thinking, "but New York is expensive!" it is, so you need to do some research to find the deals, but thanks to competition, the deals are everywhere.

Oysters and beer. My first time eating raw ones if you can believe it. They were delish. Scratch that one off the Summer Bucket List!

Cannolis in the West Village.

Coffee and a cupcake = breakfast in central park. I love these coffee cups because you always see New Yorker's drinking out of them in the movies.

Bagel with lox cream cheese.

Chocolate egg cream at a real soda fountain. This place was seriously authentic, down to the soda machines, milk shake maker, old dude wearing a white hat behind the counter, chalkboard menu, diner-style waitress, and grandpa and grandson enjoying a milkshake at the counter.

Lamb and rice plate from a street vendor. I heart spinning meat.

They call this the "sloppy bao," it's like a sloppy Joe, only the Vietnamese way. I call it the bomb. Seriously, this was the best sandwich I've ever had. Meaty, spicy, saucy ground beef topped with marinated green mango and cilantro on a crusty baguette. Nom.

Brooklyn beer on the ledge at the apartment I'll be staying at in Brooklyn. Love this place already.

More to come.