Farm to Table Dinner at Patchwork Square Farms

You may remember last summer when I wrote about my first farm to table dinner at Pocket Square Farm.

It was truly amazing.

I, and the rest of my book club, eagerly awaited this year's dinner.

Cassie did not disappoint.

We met up last month for another meal right out of her garden.

This year we didn't even pretend we were meeting to talk about a book.

We were there for the food.

It was another night of magic.

It's one of my most favorite nights of the year.

Come see why.

Farm to Table Dinner at Pocket Square Farm

The table is set in the garden, under lights and later, as we linger quite a while, under the stars.

Cassie sets the table herself with a burlap cloth, mismatched napkins, tea lights, flowers and the menu.
It's lovely.

Overhead, grapevines crawl along the strings of lights that cast a soft glow on our meal.

The roses, of course, are also from Cassie's garden.

This year, in addition to the chatter of the book club girls, there was the chatter of these girls.

Cassie's talented husband Ross built them this incredible house so that Cassie could have fresh eggs, and a barn for her farm.
The girls graciously contributed their eggs to our dinner.

Speaking of dinner.

Oh that dinner.

Here's the menu.

All the vegetables in the meal came right from Pocket Square Farm.

Even the beans for the bean soup.  (you have to read about her beans on her blog.  love this post)

The eggs were from her chickens.

She made the breads herself.

And she made the cheese.

This was the first course.
It was so delicious I could have eaten several helpings of just this and been incredibly happy.
The dinner was before I went on my crazy diet, so I was able to partake in most of it.
I had gone dairy free at that point and Cassie graciously made separate portions for me without dairy.
I did, however, have to sample just a bit of her homemade ricotta cheese.
It was utterly amazing.
As soon as I am on dairy again (a year from now at best) I am going to try homemade ricotta.
This might be my recipe.

These are the pole beans from the main course.
They're purple until you cook them.
Aren't they beautiful?

Everyone got a frittata made from the girls' eggs and more of Cassie's homemade cheese.
Mozzarella this time.
I didn't want to push my luck, so I opted out on that one and just had a farm fresh egg baked in a ramekin.
The color of those eggs was intense.
So was the flavor.
I am growing more and more fond of this backyard chicken coop idea.


Sadly, I do not have more photos of the food.
It was dark and I had a baby in my arms.
But I can assure you that, just like the rest, it was perfectly delicious.


Cassie put a tremendous amount of work in making a full meal for the 10 of us.
We all told her she didn't have to do it again next year.  (but I don't think any of us meant it)
Maybe next year she'll let us help her a bit.
Because being a part of this is just too good of an experience to pass up.
And it isn't just the food.
I love the food, but it's so much more than that.


It's about Cassie and her passion.
She loves to grow things.
She has taken her little, suburban yard and turned it into a farm.
Her raised beds produce enough to make a meal for us.
And to feed her family fresh vegetables all summer long.
She is such an inspiration to me.
It's that lesson again--if you wait for everything to be perfect, it might never happen.
Cassie doesn't have 5 acres in Oregon for her farm. (although she'd like to)
She has a pocket square patch in the city.
And she's making the most of it!


Thank you Cassie for a wonderful, inspiring evening.
If you'd like to see more of the adventures at Pocket Square Farm, be sure to visit Cassie's blog.
Hoping you find something to inspire you today--perfect or not.
Love from,
Greta

Linoleum Block Prints and Making Dreams Come True.

Doesn't it feel good when you finally do something you've always wanted to do?

Last weekend we drove up to the Antelope Valley to see the poppies. It has been on my list for a long time. Years, in fact.

It is only a 2 hour drive--not close-but certainly not too far to go for such beauty.

And once we were there, I was so happy I'd made it. It was worth the effort to make a dream come true.

That's how it is. It takes a bit of work. Or, more likely, a whole lot of work to make dreams come true.

In the past year and a half that I have been blogging, I have seen many of my dreams coming true. I write nearly every day. When I don't, I miss it tremendously. I have taken thousands and thousands of pictures. With each shot I am learning how to photograph better. I want to take tens of thousands more. I have gotten my first little freelance writing job. I have done a few photo shoots for family and friends.

And all I can think is, I want more.

So this idea that has been brewing in my mind for a while now is starting to take shape.

Aaron and I will be working together.

We're planning a website, a blog, a shop where Aaron can sell some art.

Like these. They're linoleum block prints.

Made by hand. Made by him.

And perhaps it won't amount to much, but we're OK with that. Because it feels good just to create--to make things--and to do it together. It feels good to have our kids be a part of this creative journey. To see where this will take us all.

I recently read this quote that speaks volumes to me about how I'd like to live the rest of my life. And the kind of living I want to teach my children to do.

"Twenty years from now you will be more disappointed by the things you didn't do than by the ones you did do. So throw off the bowlines, sail away from the safe harbor, catch the trade winds in your sails.

Explore. Dream. Discover."

Mark Twain

We're dreaming of the future. And who knows, maybe we'll even make a few pennies for our trailer fund.

We hope you'll come along for the ride.

I'm not sure how long it will take me to get things up and running, but I'll keep you in the loop.

Check back, will you? And please, tell you friends!

Love from,

Greta

Dreaming of: Paris & Making Macaroons

I have been fortunate enough to visit Paris 3 times. It is a place I constantly dream of returning to and I am very, very envious any time I hear of someone who has actually gotten to live there.

Actually, I have traveled all over France and I liked every single bit of it, a lot, but there is just something about Paris.

It is beautiful.

Even the food is beautiful.

Like these Parisian macaroons. Every time I see them, I swoon.

Because they remind me of Paris. Because they are so good to eat. And because they are just so lovely.

It's funny, for all the amazing food there is to be found in Paris, I haven't eaten in many of the restaurants. The first time I was there, I only ate at the train station and, GASP, McDonald's. Yes, you read that right. It was late, I was 19, had 7 or 8 teenagers in my charge and we had to stay within a 2 or 3 block radius of said train station. Sadly, many American teens are not adventurous when it comes to eating abroad. They want a taste of home. They want fast food.

I will say this. That McDonald's had beer on tap, served wine and shrimp cocktail. That's a pretty classy McDonald's.

Anyway, the next time I went to Paris, I vowed to eat some good food. And we did. Our first hotel was on Rue Cler, where there is a wonderful produce market, a boulangerie, and a fabulous little crepe stand.

That is where I first tasted real crepes. The kind that are folded up, wrapped in paper and you eat them just like that, with your hands. First I had mushrooms with cheese. Then for desert, butter, lemon and powdered sugar.

We didn't have much money, so we ate a lot of picnics. Assembled from the various shops on Rue Cler, we'd come away with a perfect meal to eat in our tiny room or sitting near the Seine. We ate in a small cafes and they were very good too.

After we spent 5 weeks touring more of France, and then Italy and Switzerland, we returned to Paris. This time we stayed near Rue Mouffetard and enjoyed the amazing food market that lines it. I love to watch Amalie because they show the market and I can say, "we've been there!"

We picnicked again and tried a few more cafes. We never ate at any fancy or famous restaurants. We just didn't have the cash. But it doesn't matter--we'll be back.

Even if you have to eat on the cheap in France, there are always the pastries. They are just amazing. When we were in Italy, the coffee was fabulous, but the pastries were lacking. And in Paris, just looking in a bakery window would take my breath away. Everything is just so pretty.

I love that.

Ever since those trips to Paris, I have wanted to make these Parisian macaroons. But I haven't. Why not? I can't tell you. I am rather practical when it comes to the kitchen. If it seems complicated, time consuming, full of many ingredients I don't have or something I may have to try several times to perfect, I don't often try it.

It's sad really.

I am trying to overcome that. My biggest obstacle right now is time. But I think the next time I have a Saturday afternoon to myself, (and I do get those sometimes because I am married to a marvelous and wonderful man) I am going to try these beauties.

I think they would be a lovely cookie to have in my repertoire. Imagine showing up for a baby shower, or book club with these. You might get some oohs and ahhs.

And, you'll just feel really good about yourself.

I found this recipe here. And here is another one, more complex and more famous.

If you try them before I do, let me know. I'd love to hear your tips.

Bon appetite, mes amis!

Greta

Happy Easter

Happy Easter friends!
We rejoice today because He is risen!
Blessed be the name of the Lord.
Greta

Favorite Recipes: Grandma Georgia's Strawberry Shortcake

A few months ago, the boys and I were making biscuits. As we worked together, cutting out little circles of the sticky dough, James paid me one of the nicest compliments I've ever gotten.

"Mommy," he said, "you're not a store cooker. You are a home cooker."

O how I love that boy.

He's right, you know. I would much rather cook up something homemade than buy that same something from the store. There are lots of reasons for this, not the least of which is the stories, the memories and the history that is a part of the homemade things we make in our kitchen. It's like I said here, cooking is about so much more than eating, isn't it?

It's one of the reasons I love this strawberry shortcake recipe. I got it from my mother-in-law, who got it from here mother-in-law, who got it from her mother. That was Great Grandma Sundberg. But I didn't know Grandma Sundberg. I knew Grandma Georgia, and so I call this her strawberry shortcake.

When we make, it gives me a chance to tell my kids a little bit about the great grandma they never got to know. I didn't know her all that well either, but what I knew I loved. She let me call her grandma from the beginning. She asked me to. I thought that was sweet.

I liked all her stories about growing up in Iowa, and moving to England with her husband and the Air Force. I love the story of the telegraph she sent her husband, out in the field, when Aaron's Dad, Scott, was born. And then how an officer friend arrived at the hospital with martinis and cigarettes to celebrate. So 1950s.

Some old pictures we have of her show her always dressed beautifully with her hair done--even with little kids running around. She seemed like a classy lady.

And she was a good cook. My mother-in-law still uses a lot of her recipes.

And I'm glad some of them have been passed down to me.

Like the strawberry shortcake. Now some people like their strawberry shortcake with biscuits. But I prefer cake. I like the moistness, the soft crumb of a cake mingling with those strawberries and the cream. It's better, I tell you.

But a cake that will be covered in strawberries and cream must not be too delicate. It has to stand up for itself. This cake does. But it is still moist. The top gets just the lightest bit of crunch to it, while the inside stays soft, yet firm.

It is good enough to eat on it's own. It's terrific at breakfast with a cup of coffee.

However, to fully appreciate its greatness, you must take it to the next step. So after the cake has cooled a bit, whip your cream and slice your strawberries.
And please, I beg you, do whip your cream. Homemade whipped cream is essential. It's also magical. James was do delighted as he poured the cream into the mixer.

"I've never made whipped cream before. I never even knew you could make whipped cream."

It's a wonderful world out there, James, when you are a home cooker.

So please take the extra 2 minutes and whip your cream. Every one will be glad you did.
And after that cream is whipped, cut a generous slice of cake and then cut it in half. Cover it with sliced strawberries and a healthy dollop or two of whipped cream.

It is the perfect Easter dessert. Light, sweet and full of the goodness of spring.

Grandma Georgia's Strawberry Shortcake

1/2 cup butter

2 cups sugar

3 cups flour

3 tsp baking powder

1/2 teaspoon salt

1 1/4 to 1 1/2 cups milk

Cream butter and sugar

Sift all dry ingredients together and then work into butter and sugar with a fork.

Add enough milk to soften. Batter will be thick.

Grease a 8 1/2 by 11 baking pan and pour batter into it.

Bake in a moderate oven (350) for 30 - 40 minutes

Let cake cool.

Serve with strawberries and whipped cream.

Notes

I used a metal baking pan. Glass would probably work fine, too.

You could use a slightly bigger pan, but your cake would not be as tall. The cake is pretty rich. You don't need huge slices.

It is also perfect for 4th of July served with blueberries, strawberries and whipped cream.

Meeting Molly --Part 2: In Which I Feel Like I am an 8 Year Old

In 1984 the San Diego Padres went to the World's Series. It was a great time for Padres fans. Which we were in our house. Staunchly loyal, through good years and bad.

But 84? Oh yes, it was a good year.

We didn't have a tv growing up, but at that time my grandma was living with us and dad didn't deprive her of tv like he did the rest of us. So we'd huddle in her little bedroom upstairs, around her tv and watch the televised games. I still remember one of the games in the pennant race when Steve Garvey hit a critical home run. We screamed and yelled and my dad threw me up in the air so high my head hit the ceiling.

That Steve Garvey. He was my favorite. I loved him. He left our bitter enemies, the Dodgers, and joined the Padres. I desperately wanted his autograph, or even better yet, to get a letter, written and addressed to me, from my favorite first baseman. (at least I think he played first)

So I devised a plan.

One exciting night we got to go to a Padres home game at Jack Murphy stadium. We arrived early and Dad, Ben and I headed down to the dug out to call out players names, begging them to come sign our hats and balls and autograph books. I, of course, called Steve.

And he came. I held out my hat for him to sign (I still have it) and when he handed it back to me, I gave him a letter. He looked a little surprised.

"It's for you," I said.

"Well. Thank you. Thank you so much." He smiled at me and put my letter in his back pocket.

I was thrilled.

I am no longer clear on all the details of that letter. Except for one part. The song.

Yes. I wrote Steve Garvey a song.

And I put it in the letter. Not that he'd be able to know exactly that it was a song, except that it said, "Here is a song I wrote for you." Really it would read more like a poem. A poem by an 8 year old. It's not very good.

I still know every word and the tune that goes with it. I could even sing it for you. But you'd have to make it very worth my while.

Throughout the rest of the game, everyone made references to my letter in Steve Garvey's pocket. When Steve was on third and Carmello Martinez was up to bat, my dad shouted, "Greta! Did you see that?"

"What, what?" I asked.

"Steve Garvey just called Carmello's name and then he patted his back pocket. Where your letter is. Just watch. He'll do it again."

He did it a lot through the rest of the game. I missed it every time.

Steve never responded to my letter. Even though I did put my name and address in it. But it didn't really matter. It was enough to know he put my letter in his back pocket. I do hope he read it and knew that some little 8 year old girl thought he was just the best.

I kind of felt like I was reliving the whole Steve Garvey incident when I saw Molly. I don't mean to sound like a freaky stalker, or an 8 year old girl with a crush (though that is the better of the 2) but it was really, really cool to hear Molly talk about her book and her blog and to see this person whose writing I read every week, whose recipes I try and who helped me begin this blogging thing I do that is now a hugely important part of my life. (wow. That sentence is a paragraph)

She gave me my voice. It was always in there, but she helped me find a way to get it out.

So yeah, it was a big deal.

She began by reading the first chapter of her book. Which I love. It is sweet and poignant and dear and moving. I cried. I am a pretty harsh critic of books, and I love her book. Her writing speaks to my heart.

She talked about her blog, her book, the restaurant she and her husband have opened in Seattle. I felt just like I do when I read her blog--that she is a girl I'd like to be friends with. She was great.

After the questions, they set up a table and she signed books.

When it was my turn, I smiled, handed her my book, and a silver envelope.

"This is for you."

"Oh thank you! How sweet." Or something like that.

And I felt just like I was 8 again. Really, very, very dorky.

But you know what? I had to tell her that I think she is the best.

And I like to think that she doesn't mind hearing that.

I really wanted to ask to take a picture.

But I chickened out.

Then I went back.

I waited until the line was gone. I swallowed my pride and summoned my courage.

"I'm back." I said. "Can I get a picture with you?"

She didn't even look, not for 1 second, like I was a weirdo. She just smiled an said, "sure."

Thanks Molly.

Greta

PS. I owe my courage, in part, to Aaron. Several years ago he went to the Sundance Film festival with our friend, Brian. One night at dinner, he saw one of his favorite actors, James Coburn. Aaron couldn't believe his eyes. He wanted so badly to speak to him, to shake his hand and say, "I really like your work." But he didn't. Everyone at his table said no, don't do it, leave him alone, people don't do that here. Blah, blah, blah.

He really wishes he would have.

I remembered that.

So I did it.

And really, who cares any way? I am sure we all think about ourselves far, far more than anyone else does. So, don't be afraid of what other people are going to think. Risk feeling a bit of the dork and go for it!

If nothing else, it will make a good story.

PSS. For my enite life I have been made fun of for my eyes when I smile. Now you know why.

Oh, and one more thing. Strawberry short cake recipe is on it's way. just in time for Easter. See you soon!
PS.  You can read part 1 here.

I Know it's Spring, but Here are Some Winter Dreams

I just did a post about our trip to the snow over at Lilly and the Brothers.

I found these pictures and was reminded how fun it was to take pictures in a totally new environment. Snow. It was beautiful and breathtaking.

I dream of one day staying in a secluded cabin, deep in the woods, just buried in snow. I would like to lay on the couch next to a roaring fire, go snowshoeing and see no one's foot prints but mine and the animals, drink hot chocolate with homemade marshmallows, eat hot soup and fresh from the oven bread, and fall asleep to the quiet, quiet sounds of snow falling.

Then I'd like to come home to sunshine because I am terrified of driving in snow and I think I'd probably have to drive eventually. Or I guess I could learn to cross country ski.

The first time I went to Switzerland, I had just turned 17 and graduated from high school. We were driving in a gigantic bus through the Alps. After many, many, many hairpin turns, and a lot of my fellow travelers getting very sick, we reached the top of a mountain. And when we got out of the bus to stretch our legs, it was snowing.

In July.

It was only the second time I had seen snow falling. It was just so beautiful and magical.

As we drove down the mountain, we drove through village after village. Each one had a little church, tiny chalets with windows full of red geraniums, cows, a shop or two, and the greenest grass you ever laid eyes on. Outside of each village were more homes, tucked up into the hills and looking very lovely indeed. I imagined myself spending a winter there, studying abroad, alone with my books, writing, making friends with people in the village where I would go for bread and cheese.

Oh it was so romantic. I loved being 17.

I have been back to Switzerland 2 times since that trip. Each time I love it more. It is one of the most beautiful places on the planet and one of my most favorite places in the world.

I've only been there in the summer. And there is still snow up in the Alps.

But I'd like to go in the winter sometime.

As long as I don't have to drive. And I won't cause the trains in Switzerland are fabulous.

Where do you dream of being right now? Winter dreams, spring dreams or even summer dreams? Tell me. I'd love to have some new places to dream about.

Greta

Making Me Happy Right Now

Hello friends, it has been a while. It feels like so much longer than 2 weeks.

But there has been a lot going on. See here.

My sweet sons gave me these flowers to make me feel happy. To honor their wish, I am going to share with you a few things from the blog world that are making me happy right now.

I read this post a few days ago and was inspired. I plan on joining in. I may be just a tad behind, but that's OK.

My goals are to paint the inside of my kitchen cabinets turquoise. Yeah, that's right! This will aid in the cleaning out of and organizing of said cabinets. It's a win win!

I also plan to sew some new napkins for the dinner table. I'd like us to use cloth napkins more often and I have lots of fabric just waiting to be used. The real plus here is that napkins are one of the few things I can actually sew. So...I am excited to begin these projects.

Want to join in? What will your projects be?

I am hoping, really hoping I made it into this. At first I was scared to try. "Can I really put anything together that is as cute as all the others?"

Then I said, "well, I'm sure as heck gonna try!"

So I entered. The slots filled up fast, so maybe I'll be waiting for next year. But at least I tried.

Even if I don't make it into The Lovely Package Exchange (see above) I am entered in this. Hot dog! If you were the kind of kid who searched out the stationary section of the grocery store, or the art store and adored getting a blank notebook, then this is the giveaway for you. All of these packaging materials, stationary goods, paper goods will make you swoon. I am talking bakers twine here, people. tiny pink envelopes, kraft paper stickers, red rick rack tape!!!!, and the list goes on. Please go check it out and enter. I'll be really happy for you if you win.

(and only a tiny bit jealous)

Last bit of news. My other blog, Lilly and the Brothers, made it onto the Delightful Blogs list. I'd be so appreciative if you'd drop by over there and write me a little review. The blogs are listed alphabetically, so you can find mine in the Ls. Or just go here and then scroll down until you find Lilly and the Brothers.

Thanks!

I think my boys would be happy. This is a pretty cheerful post. And I'll be honest, it wasn't the cheerfullest of days. But this helps. And I can't wait to get to work on those cupboards.

It's good to be back. Thanks for stopping by.

Greta