A year in missing photos

The days are getting longer, and boy have we missed it!



And while some days are just better than others,



You can always count on good company.



There were a few celebration treats,





Okay, perhaps a few more.







All while staying properly hydrated of course.



It's important to enjoy home when you get the chance.



And being a goof every now and again.



Most importantly, it's the little things that make everything worthwhile.

Something that I've struggled with while entertaining this idea of becoming a pastry chef is essentially dumping my entire undergraduate career in conservation biology and environmental studies, to be blunt. How could I justify abruptly ending an interest in something that I love, living sustainably and being an ally for the environment, to pursue a field that brings people happiness from copious, copious amounts of butter?

This semester has arguably been one of my greatest. I've had both my ups and downs, and as I was recovering from loss and heartache, I learned that sometimes it feels really good to be selfish; thinking only about myself (and whitey of course) was a welcomed refreshment that I think I really needed as I began my journey to end my college life. I've met more people and built more new relationships in the past few months than I probably have in the entire three years since moving to Madison. I've been able to set aside time for allowing myself to hurt and heal, and not feeling ashamed for having nights that were worse than others. And while I know that my family will always be my greatest supporters, this time around they really proved their strength when I felt that mine was fleeting. I know this sounds like an “end of college” reminiscent post (and don’t worry, there will be one) but I wanted to dedicate this post to becoming the best you that there is.

The first outdoor farmer’s market is tomorrow here in Madison, and I couldn't be more excited. For months now I've been dreaming of the mornings when I could wake early and drink my coffee while walking the square, something that brings me great happiness if you recall.

Big news in the Jamie-sphere: I had the amazing and incredible opportunity this week to meet Jane Goodall, a world renowned primatologist and advocate for environmental education. I owe many great thanks to my professor, and albeit sometimes intimidating, mentor Dr. Karen Strier for honoring my volunteering contribution and presenting me with the opportunity to meet Dr. Goodall at the UW’s Earth Day Conference. Her view on the fate of our environment is so hopeful, although she probably knows best the peril that our world is in from her extensive studies of diminishing populations of Africa’s chimpanzees. Meeting (and hugging!) Dr. Goodall was a bittersweet feeling, however inspiring and tear-inducing the afternoon was. After this long winter that we've had, it instilled a feeling of readiness to get back to the things that make me happiest, the things that I’m passionate about. It was difficult for me to acknowledge that I won’t probably ever be a scientist; my time hand-feeding baby house sparrows and identifying individual Muriqui monkeys is finished. But in that realization I also acknowledged that I don’t have to be a scientist to be an ally for the environment, something that I know will continue to be important to me for years to come. In doing so, I've really analyzed my lifestyle: the things I love about it, and a few things that could use a fine-tuning. As I begin this next chapter in my life (filled with anxiety-ridden uncertainty) I've made a commitment to myself and to my field of study to live the best life that I can. Corny as it is, I want to live long. I want to be an inspiration to family and friends, and support my community in the best ways that I am able. So without further ado, here are some things that I’m changing in my life in order to better represent what I think is important, why I've chosen to dedicate four long years to studying sustainability, and as a hopeful-soon-to-be culinary student, I encourage my non-scientist readers to do the same.

1. Make Monday nights "Meat-less Mondays": I'll save you the schpeel but the mass marketing of meat around the world is neither good for the environment, nor is it for our bodies. Animals that are mass produced to make cheap ground beef at the store are fed hormones to increase their bulk and to cover up infections that living in such compacted and filthy conditions entails. Try making one weeknight dinner meatless, and experiment with new vegetable recipes. They pack more nutrients and following a more plant-based diet means a longer life!

2. Buy a water bottle and get drinking! Reality? Tap water is just fine and we're lucky to have it! Buy a reusable water bottle, like the one I just bought, that fits in your purse or backpack.

3. Watch a TEDTalk, or other food documentary: Netflix offers many of these options and I think it's a great way to become well versed on issues surrounding food and sustainability. Experts in the field discuss ways to eat better, and when you're educated on an issue you can be an advocate by teaching others.

4. Buy local, when you can: Eating locally raised and grown food not only supports your community, but it also means fresher foods and less time (and exhaust) traveling around the world. When you support local growers, you're also eating what’s in season which means it'll taste better and come at a lower cost.

5. Choose to walk or bike instead of driving: Need something from the grocery store? Bring your own bag and lace up your sneakers. It's good for your heart, and unless you're short on time, what else have you got going on?

6. Swap one thing you think you can’t live without, with something new: Easier said than done, right? Try challenging yourself to change things up for the better. Instead of taking your coffee with cream and sugar, try drinking it black. Instead of checking Facebook during your break, whip out the Times crossword and impress those around you.

7. Try new foods, new recipes, and cook with family and friends! Try planting an herb garden in your window box or outside: experiment with inexpensive fresh herbs to add flavor to dishes. Need suggestions?
Orangette, Sprouted Kitchen, and Smitten Kitchen are all great starting places. Don’t be afraid of new ingredients and explore new cooking methods.

8. Tune out and turn in: Work on getting more shut-eye and reading before bed. Sleeping more, eating well, and drinking plenty of water can make you instantly feel more alert.

9. And lastly, take care of you! Take time to do things you love, indulge a bit, and nourish relationships with people you care for.

Every year as spring approaches and the lilacs make their beautiful bloom, I always think of my mom. She loves both spring and lilacs, and always made Easter a special occasion in our home growing up. While the egg hunts and Easter baskets can't go unmentioned, naturally it was her Easter Feaster lunch spread that I remember most. We were never short on ham, stuffed artichokes, lamb butter (lamb-shaped butter, for clarification!) and some type of bread, like this Italian version of a sweet Easter bread.



I have always wanted to try making a braided bread because it’s egg-y and sweet and makes the best french toast the next morning. Most cultures have a version of this type of sweet braided bread which is commonly found around Easter, whether it’s Jewish challah, Greek tsoureki, or this Italian one, guti di pasqua. Each culture puts a little spin on their bread and traditionally Italian Easter bread has a hint of anise flavoring to it, which is similar in taste to black licorice. I decided to pass on that addition because it's not my favorite flavor and the bread tastes great without it.

I tried to channel my old Jewish grandmother or my Jewish best friend but it turns out both are imaginary so I wung winged it. I've been on spring break too long. It turns out that those years of timing myself braiding Beth’s hair for hours in the bathroom paid off, or at least I got the basic gist of it. Traditionally, dyed eggs are tucked between the braids of the bread and I think I read somewhere once that the different colors of the eggs represent the resurrection of Christ. In lieu of the eggs I decided to instead just dust the top with some colored sprinkles, which is another traditional Italian garnish.

While waiting for the bread to rise I watched the Ten Commandments on TV, an old and nearly 5 hour long film about Moses, that we watched every year as kids. I don't think I've ever sat through the whole thing but I got close last night. It was a bittersweet feeling, wishing my family was here so I could imitate Ramses booming "So it is written, so it shall be done!" but I know there will be plenty of more Easters to fit in everything I love with the people I love, too. Among all the change that is growing up, and moving, there are some things that I hope I will always remember. I know the table may be different but it's comforting to know that Mom's recipes never will be, and will always have a way of bringing us home.

Italian Easter Bread
Yields 1 loaf

Working with yeast has been a trying process over the years for me. It is either dead to begin with, or I unintentionally sent it to the grave by proofing it in milk that was too hot. That being said, if your yeast doesn't foam a noticeable amount after 5 minutes I would probably pitch it and start over as a precaution.

Ingredients
2/3 cup whole milk
5 Tablespoons sugar, divided
1 3/4 teaspoons active dry yeast (from one 1/4-ounce envelope)
2 large eggs, room temperature
2 3/4 cups unbleached all-purpose flour
1 teaspoon kosher salt
1/2 cup (1 stick) unsalted butter, cut into 1-inch pieces, room temperature, plus 1/2 tablespoon, melted
1 large eggs, for egg wash



Directions:

Heat milk in a small saucepan over medium heat or in a microwave until an instant-read thermometer registers 110–115 degrees F. Literally.



Transfer milk to a 2-cup measuring cup; stir in 1 Tbsp. sugar. Sprinkle yeast over milk and whisk to blend. Let sit until yeast is foamy, about 5 minutes. Add eggs; whisk until smooth. Try not to drop one of those room temperature eggs on the floor, like yours truly did. If you do, you're welcome to stick a cold egg in your sweater pouch and warm it up like a momma bird for a bit.



Combine remaining 4 Tbsp. sugar, flour, and salt in a large bowl. Add milk mixture. Because I don't have a large stand mixer with a dough hook, I opted to use the dough hook attachments for my hand mixer. If you're also without these, the mixing can easily be done by hand and a good work out at that.



With mixer running, add 1/2 cup room-temperature butter, 1 piece at a time, blending well between additions. Mix on medium speed for 1 minute. Knead on medium-high speed until dough is soft and silky, about 5 minutes.

Brush a medium bowl with some melted butter; place dough in bowl. Brush top of dough with remaining melted butter; cover with plastic wrap. At this point it can be made 1 day ahead, just cover with plastic wrap and chill in the fridge.

Let dough rise in a warm, draft-free area until doubled in size, 1–1 1/2 hours (or 2–2 1/2 hours if dough has been refrigerated). After losing so much yeasted dough, I found a method for created the perfect warm, rising spot. Place covered dough in a turned-off oven and place a cake pan on the rack below. Fill the pan with boiling water and shut the oven door; the steam from the water creates a great warm and humid environment that the yeast needs to rise.



Line a large baking sheet with parchment paper. Punch down dough. Divide into 3 equal pieces. With lightly floured hands, roll each piece on a lightly floured surface into a 16-inch-long rope with tapered ends. (If dough begins to bounce back, cover with a kitchen towel and let rest for 10 minutes to allow dough to relax.) One of my ropes was a bit larger than the others which I think is what made my final loaf a little odd looking. If you can, weigh the dough thirds to ensure equal size.



Arrange ropes side by side lengthwise on prepared sheet. Pinch top ends together. Braid dough. Pinch bottom ends together to secure (braided loaf will be about 12 inches long). Loosely cover with plastic wrap or a kitchen towel. Let rise in a warm, draft-free area until puffed but not doubled in size, 45–50 minutes.



Arrange a rack in middle of oven; preheat to 375 degrees F. Whisk remaining egg with 2 tsp. warm water in a small bowl. Brush dough all over with egg wash and add sprinkles if desired.





Bake until bread is golden and an instant-read thermometer inserted into center of loaf registers 190°, 20–25 minutes, which I rarely do. Let cool on a wire rack. Serve warm or at room temperature. Store leftovers in an airtight container and make wonderful french toast with it the next morning.

Contrary to my love of rich, intensely flavored and decadent sweets, I think there is room in everyone’s collection for a few great healthy recipes. This recipe for Carrot, Zucchini, and Parsnip bread caught my eye when my sister, Kelly, received True Food: Seasonal, Sustainable, Simple, Pure by Dr. Andrew Weil and Sam Fox for Christmas this year. I eyed the book and wrote down a few recipes, and after making Dr. Weil’s Chicken Farro Salad for dinner earlier in the year I was so eager to try one of his desserts. In fact, in the book this recipe was mentioned as a breakfast or snack bread and I couldn't agree more; it came out wonderfully flavored and satiated the mid-afternoon ‘hold me over until dinner’ gap.

Something that really excited and intrigued me about this recipe were the few unconventional ingredients that I had never used before. It was my first time using evaporated cane sugar and parsnips, as well as having never swapped vegetable oil for extra virgin if you can believe it. It turns out that parsnips are these wonderful cousins to carrots but have a slightly spicy flavor to them. Although not as strong as something like a radish, the grated parsnips did wonders together with the cloves to mimic a gingerbread flavor. My roommate, Molly, actually came home and said the house smelled like gingerbread, which is something I can't complain about.



If you can’t or don’t buy whole wheat flour in bulk, what I sometimes do for specific recipes, making homemade wheat biscuits that is a great use for leftover wheat flour. It’s my go to biscuit recipe and so simple to make. In fact, if I have a cup of milk in the fridge about to turn, I’ll make these biscuits and flash freeze them for weekends when I make a batch of chili or stew. After you've cut out the biscuits, you can place them on a parchment lined baking sheet and stick them in the freezer until they've frozen solid, about 30 minutes. Then just toss them in a freezer ziplock bag and bake as you need them, or when you have company, making sure to keep them in the oven just a few minutes longer if straight from the freezer. It’s a perfect way to use up wheat flour, like the gigantic Bob’s Red Mill bag I snagged, and make prepping brunch for loved ones much quicker.



The last bizarre ingredient on my list was evaporated cane sugar and I wasn't exactly sure where I could find it. I was actually in my Political Ecology of Southeast Asia class when I decided to make this recipe so on my way home I swung by the campus grocery store just to peek around and see if I could find it. Surprisingly I did find it in the regular baking aisle instead of the organic and specialty area. I know Bob’s Red Mill carries a variety, but mine was an organic brand that was labeled (Evaporated) Cane Sugar. After doing some research when I got home, it turns out that evaporated cane sugar is similar to the white granulated sugar we've all got in the pantry but it contains more of the natural minerals from the cane plant, and isn't as refined as white sugar is. The combination of using olive oil, apple butter (in my case, although you could also use pumpkin butter), and the whole wheat flour made the bread feel filling without being too sweet at all. I see why Dr. Weil would recommend this for breakfast or with coffee, which is exactly what I did and why I recommend that you all try this bread and working with some new ingredients soon.



My music mood: The Head and the Heart

Carrot, Zucchini, and Parsnip Bread
Yields 2 loaves

1 1/2 cups all-purpose flour
1/2 cup whole-wheat flour
1/2 cup evaporated cane sugar
1 1/2 teaspoons baking soda
1 teaspoon baking powder
1/2 teaspoon salt
1 teaspoon ground cinnamon
1/2 teaspoon ground nutmeg
1/2 teaspoon ground cloves
1 medium carrot, shredded
1 medium parsnip, shredded
1 small zucchini, shredded
3 large eggs
3/4 cup apple butter or pumpkin butter
3 tablespoons extra-virgin olive oil
1 tablespoon vanilla extract
2 tablespoons pumpkin seeds

Heat oven to 375 degrees F. Oil two 8 1/2- by 4 1/2- by 2 1/2-inch loaf pans with olive oil.

In a large bowl combine the flours, sugar, baking soda, baking powder, salt, cinnamon, nutmeg, cloves and shredded carrot, parsnip and zucchini. Mix well. In another bowl, whisk together the eggs, fruit butter, olive oil and vanilla. Add the wet ingredients to the dry and mix until combined, but don’t over mix.

Divide batter between the prepared pans and sprinkle the tops with pumpkin seeds. Bake for 35 minutes or until a skewer inserted into the center of the bread comes out clean. Let cool on wire racks.

Slice and serve with coffee, as we did.

A few things to note:

1. Snail mail will never go out of style.
and
2. I am a very lucky girl. Too lucky, perhaps.



I regret to inform you that, again, I will not be sharing a recipe with you. I know, I know, and the truth is I have been baking, but nothing worth sharing. Last week there were salted caramel brownies and this week I ate my weight in shepard's pie, freezing what I couldn't finish for weeknight leftovers. But to tell you the truth, my mind has been else where. Probably here, because I've decided to take a step and apply to pastry school. It's extremely stressful, terrifying, and exciting all at once - this whole figuring out my future thing. This is the time when you need someone, anyone, to listen and be your rock when you feel like things could come crumbling down at any moment. I've been that rock before and I can't thank my sisters enough for the guidance and advice they've shared in my direction, being my rock when I need them most.

Tonight I am listening to, and would like to share, a few of my favorite songs; they have helped keep me grounded the past six months and, recently, when I've felt like I'm floating above myself watching another person making all of these decisions.

I think it’s about time that someone somewhere spoke up about us. The shy folk, the readers, the thoughtful. I can’t tell you how many times I have been mistaken for someone other than who I am, someone other than the person that I see myself as because I am introverted. That’s right, I said it. I’m an introvert. And I have a good feeling most of you are, too.

Often times introverts are wrongly labeled by extroverts. You know the ones: outgoing, the go-getters, the people who do most of the talking and are quick to jump in right away with their thoughts, and more often enough in my experience, with their opinion of your label as a person. I know a few extroverts who are beautiful and wonderful people, enriching my life in ways that I ordinarily could not. And I also know a few extroverts who have treated me awfully solely on their uneducated belief that there was something wrong with me, something wrong with all of my friends, and nearly one third to a half of all Americans.

We’re taught from an early age that everyone is different, from our size, to our color, to the way we speak. Why, then, are we not taught the difference between extroverts and introverts at this age, too? It wasn't until I was singled out as being rude, quiet, and boring that I realized something is very wrong in the way that some people were taught to understand others.

There is a great difference, to those who take the time to understand their partners and friends, between being shy and being an introvert. A person once told me that a new girl working in his lab was boring. She didn't strike up conversation, and didn't actively engage with him without being prompted to do so. Boring. The first thing that popped into my head was that perhaps she didn't like the shitty music he played out loud, inconsiderate that not everyone in the room liked the same alternative electric rock that he did. Or perhaps it was because as an undergrad she was a little intimidated by his age, although at 24 he was still doing the same undergraduate work he had been since his super-senior year of college. Or, she may have been content thinking to herself, tucked away in her own thoughts and wasn't interested in small talk to just hear her voice, though nothing of substance was being said in the first place.

I wish I had been there for this girl to assure her that there was nothing wrong with her silence, that the boy would never understand the type of person she was, for he was never taught to appreciate people for their thoughts; he was never taught to listen.

Introverts bring some of the best ideas to the table, but are often beat to the punch by the pushy extroverts who get there faster. I love introverts because a common quality among us is our ability to listen, internalize, and present ideas that have had time to stew and get richer. Our actions are often not hasty, and when others mistake our quietness with rudeness they often cannot remember the details of the conversation in the ways that introverts do. It has taken me a while to become comfortable with the woman I have become. While I enjoy going to a noisy bar every now and again, my domain is a comfortable and quiet atmosphere where I can reap the most from intimate conversations and relationships. Where I can serve wine to a close group of people who stimulate my brain, my heart. These are the people that understand if I am not filling the void with lofty conversation, I am thinking. I am listening. I am not awkward, and certainly not rude.

My sister Molly shared a Ted Talk with me a little over a year ago about the power of introversion, that after watching made me smile with a feeling of unabashed acceptance. Please take the time, or find a time when you can really watch from start to finish. It’s a powerful talk that explains in 20 minutes what took me twenty years to learn to appreciate.

The sun crept in, like a mosaic, spattering patches of light on the faded wall, piecing together the memories that had broken into an array of different shades. My head rose with every swell and fall of his chest, his pulse a soft note in my ear. With every beat came a new breath, a warm wind, swaying my hairs into a scattered disarray. Then the sun came up, the shadows faded, every moment, every movement, was cast into an unyielding light as the darkness disappeared. I held my breath fearful of losing this peace, the blanket that kept us safe. Morning came, and the light brought with it our reality.