Watermelon Agua Fresca for a Crowd and Maddie's Graduation

by Michelle

"You have to leave the city of your comfort and go into the wilderness of your intuition. You can't get there by bus, only by hard work and risk and by not quite knowing what you're doing, but what you'll discover will be wonderful. What you'll discover will be yourself." — Alan Alda

   Times are a-changin' around my house. My daughter will be off to college in August. While Maddie is busily planning decorations for her dorm room and considering what belongings to take with her as she embarks upon the next chapter of her life, I've been trying to wrap my head around just how quickly eighteen years can pass by.
   In my mind's eye, snapshots of my daughter's life quickly race by—from the joyful moment of Maddie's birth to the celebratory activities associated with last week's graduation ceremonies, and everything in between. A life is sewn by piecing together tiny fleeting moments. Our Nana used to say when our family was together, "Stop the clock, stop the clock." As we all know, time keeps marching on anyway. It's up to us, then, to capture the meaningful moments and store them away. Occasionally, like I did last week, I dusted off old picture albums and browsed the pages of my family's life. It's a bittersweet activity to wander through the past, meandering down memory lane. I have come to believe that to live a happy life one must focus more on the future than what has transpired in the past.

We arrived early for the Catalina Foothills High School graduation ceremony.
Within 90 minutes every square inch of available seating was claimed.

Hold on to your hats, ladies. Significant changes are waiting right around the corner.

After the ceremony Maddie celebrated with her class at the New York-themed Grand Night Party.
Meanwhile, Jay and I grabbed a late night dinner and toasted our daughter's accomplishments.

   I am grateful for the close relationship that my husband and I share with our daughter. Thankfully we did not experience the animosity that many teenagers direct at their parents. While there may have been tears shed from time to time over a disagreement, there were no shouting matches in our house or slamming bedroom doors. In the absence of trust, there is no respect. As parents, Jay and I made every effort to say "yes"" instead of "no" to Maddie's various requests. Saying yes was sometimes personally inconvenient for Jay and me, such as when we'd drive her and her friends to Phoenix so they could attend concerts. At other times, saying yes (while simultaneously handing over the car keys) was a confirmation of our trust in Maddie's ability to be responsible and act as a leader and not as a follower.
 Although I will miss Maddie deeply when university starts, my next important step as a mother is to let her go. From afar, I will continue to encourage her to follow her curiosity and pursue her interests and passions. To use a cooking metaphor—to stay curious is the spice of life. To be curious about the people and the world around us, is what drives new understanding and keeps us moving forward. And that goes for me, too. This a new chapter in my life, as well. What interests will continue to drive me in new directions? What creative paths will I pursue? Will I finally make it to yoga classes? Only time will tell.

We prepared three Agua Frescas for the party: Pineapple-Ginger, Watermelon and Horchata.

   For Maddie's graduation, we invited our extended family to celebrate with us. Grandparents, aunts, uncles, and cousins came from near and far to attend Maddie's Honors Ceremony that was held a few nights before the school's senior class commencement. The day preceding the Honors event, on a Sunday afternoon, we hosted Maddie's graduation dinner at our house. Months of planning, cleaning, and gardening went into preparing for the special day.
   In the days leading up to the party, Maddie and I prepared the food with assistance here and there from Jay. Maddie's special request was that we serve refreshing agua frescas to accompany the Mexican-themed menu. The day before the party we prepared a trio of agua frescas: Watermelon, Pineapple-Ginger and Horchata. We also made Linda's "Not Too Girly" Strawberry Margaritas that seem to be everybody's favorite margarita these days.
   I relished watching Maddie work in the kitchen, slicing and dicing like a pro. She effortlessly whipped up a double batch of chocolate chip cookies, exacting in her measurements and portioning the dough for consistently-sized cookies. We took turns playing lively CDs, the music helping us to maintain our pace over the course of a long day. We cooked and baked and talked and laughed. Our cooking day finished just before midnight and we were more than ready to throw in the proverbial kitchen towel and rest our aching feet in our comfy beds. While Maddie truly enjoys baking and cooking, she knows for sure that her future career will not be found in the culinary arts.

Watermelon Agua Fresca

   For the party, I decided to make flavor-infused rich sugar syrups for the agua frescas instead of using a honey syrup. To sweeten the watermelon agua fresca, bring 2 cups granulated sugar and 1 cup filtered water to nearly a boil, stirring often, until the sugar is liquefied. Turn off the heat and add one handful (about 2 ounces) of mint to the sugar syrup. Let the mixture marinate until the sugar syrup reaches room temperature. Discard the mint and transfer the sugar syrup to a glass container with a tight fitting lid. Chill.
   The Agua Fresca can be made up to two days ahead. Keep chilled in the refrigerator. I purchased the big glass jars with accompanying lids from Target®. I found reasonably priced canning ladles on Amazon® which happily fit the jars perfectly (it's the small things in life...).

Ingredients:
1 large seedless watermelon, rind removed and discarded, flesh cut into 2-inch cubes
about 2 cups filtered water
freshly squeezed lime juice, to taste (we added about 1/3 cup)
honey simple syrup or flavored sugar syrup, to taste (we added about 1/12 cup)
2 to 3 liters chilled club soda

Add-Ins:
Adults might want to add a shot of vodka or tequila to their serving

Equipment:
electric blender
fine meshed sieve

The fast and easy way to prep a watermelon.

1. Purée 1/2 of watermelon and 1 cup filtered water in the blender. Pour blended juice through a large sieve into a container, such as a 6-quart cambro. Discard pulp. Repeat with remaining watermelon and 1 cup filtered water. Stir in freshly squeezed lime juice. Add honey syrup or flavored simple syrup, to taste. Add more lime juice, if needed. Refrigerate until cold, about 4 hours, or up to 2 days ahead.
2. Stir in chilled club soda, to taste and garnish with slices of lime. I add enough club soda until my taste buds can just detect the effervescence of the carbonated water. Serve over ice. Yield: about 6 quarts.

Crock-Fermented Dill Pickles and May Roses

by Linda

               American households purchase pickles every 53 days.

               More than 67 percent of all households eat pickles.

               Americans consume more than 9 pounds of pickles per person annually.

                                                            —From ilovepickles.org

The Persian cucumbers are washed and ready to become crisp and delicious dill pickles.

   We girls are all pickle lovers from way back. This love of pickles was promoted by our dad, Paul, who has always loved fermented foods. He wrote to me last fall, after I published my post on making sauerkraut at home and shared with me how much he had loved sauerkraut as a boy. This passage from his letter delighted me:

"Grandma and grandpa Beaumont made wonderful kraut which they learned to do in Wisconsin.  Norman actually made a wooden shredding box that held knives made from flat files. He ground the files to a knife edge and secured them in the box. When a head of cabbage was pushed over the knife edges, it had the same effect as cutting with a knife but was much faster. They canned the kraut which probably wasn't good from a nutrition standpoint but it tasted great. As a kid, I would have chosen a bowl of their kraut over a bowl of ice cream. I absolutely loved the stuff. Callie was really good about giving me a bowl of kraut when I'd stop by (which was most every day)."

Our father, Paul, at Maddie's graduation party in May of 2015.

   I can picture him at as a boy in his grandparents' kitchen eating a big bowl of homemade sauerkraut. I wasn't in love with sauerkraut as kid (but then ours wasn't homemade, which makes all of the difference), however we all have always loved dill pickles, and we ate jar upon jar of them when we were girls.

 

 
   Now that it is late spring, baby cucumbers are finally arriving at the Whole Foods Market® where I work. I am particularly fond of the baby Persian cucumbers because they have thin skins and are never bitter. I thought I would make a batch today and enjoy the advent of my May roses, which are abundant in my yard right now. I love preparing food on a large wooden table in the middle of my garden, which this year is home to my first attempt at growing David Austin English rose varieties. They have bloomed abundantly, and their fragrance is subtle yet sumptuous. They layer the air with their sweet perfume while I work.

David Austin Rose—Lichfield Angel 

David Austin Rose—Lady of Shallot

   I feel so lucky to be enjoying a Friday off preparing food in my garden. They only thing that would make it any better was if my sisters were joining me later for a cocktail.

Crock-Fermented Dill Pickles

Equipment:
5L Fermentation crock

Ingredients:
1.5 gallons filtered water
3/4 cup sun-dried sea salt (I use Eden brand French Celtic)

4 pounds baby Persian cucumbers or pickling cucumbers (4-6 inches long)
1.5 Tbsps whole black peppercorns
1.5 Tbsps red pepper flakes
3 large garlic cloves, smashed
1.5 tsps dill seed
1 very large bunch of fresh dill

Procedure:
Combine the salt and water in a large vessel. I used a stock pot. Stir until the salt has dissolved.
Rinse the cucumbers thoroughly and snip off the blossom end and stem as needed. Set aside.

Place the peppercorns, pepper flakes, garlic, dill seed and fresh dill into the bottom of the crock. Add the cucumbers to the crock on top of the aromatic herbs. Pour the brine mixture over the cucumbers and completely cover with the liquid.

Set the crock stones on top of the cumbers and make sure that the brine rises above the crock stones. Place the lid on the crock, and set it in a cool and dry place. Fill the crock channel with filtered water to provide and air-tight seal. Refill as water evaporates from it.

The fermentation is complete when the places taste sour and the bubbles from fermentation have stopped rising—the fermentation time is approximately 7-10 days depending on the ambient temperature. When the pickles are sour, place in jars or tubs with the bringing liquid. Store for up to 3 months in the refrigerator. If the pickles should become soft or begin to take on an off odor, this is a sign of spoilage and they should be composted.

"One of the most tragic things I know about human nature is that all of us tend to put off living. We are all dreaming of some magical rose garden over the horizon instead of enjoying the roses that are blooming outside our windows today." — Dale Carnegie

Memorial Day — Shooting Star

by Linda

"Whenever I meet with our Gold Star families, like I did this morning, I hear their pride through their tears, as they flip through old photos and run their fingers over shiny medals. I see that their hearts are still broken, and yet still full of love. They do not ask for awards or honors. They do not ask for special treatment. They are unfailingly humble. In the face of unspeakable loss, they represent the best of who we are." — President Obama ~ May 2015

Joshua T.—United States Army Special Forces—12-03-1978 to 01-16-2009
Operation Enduring Freedom

   Included in this post is a letter that I wrote about my son Joshua six years ago. As you may or may not know, in January of 2009 Joshua died when he was serving with the Special Forces of the United States Army on his second deployment in Afghanistan. The letter that I wrote includes a beautiful and inspirational letter to me from my friend, Cindi, who wrote to me while I was staying in Solvang with our family—waiting for Joshua's body to be sent back from Afghanistan. The process took the better part of two weeks culminating in his military funeral which was a terrible ordeal for the whole family. I end my letter with a description and revelation that I had during a trip to the doctor. I had some serious health issues right after Josh died. Months later I would discover that my illness was brought about from the grief and stress I experienced from the trauma of his death. It has taken me six long years to be ready to publish my letter, and my purpose and hope in sharing it this Memorial Day, is that by making it available to all—it might help someone who is suffering from a traumatic loss. Especially the loss of a child.

April 17, 2009

Dearest Family and Friends,

   My friend, Cindi, is a veteran and we worked together for several years. She recently wrote me a most insightful and eloquent letter just after Joshua's death in response to one that I sent to her. The background is that Cindi's beautiful 21-year-old daughter was killed in an accident while riding on the back of her boyfriend's motorcycle. She was thrown from the bike and she died on impact. It will be three years this June since the devastating crash. Vanessa's death hit me so very hard. Joshua had just been deployed again to Afghanistan, and the one thing in life that I was sure that I could never deal with was the death of either of my children. I cried for weeks over Vanessa's death, and she wasn't even my own child—but somehow she symbolized my child, and I loved her mother. Cindi was the example that I wanted to emulate if anything like this should ever happen to me, God forbid. Cindi is a beautiful person inside and out, and she seemed to me like a flower with an oak growing inside of her—delicate but so strong. After Vanessa's death, Cindi unimaginably still glowed from within, and she loved to talk about her beautiful girl, even though the tears would inevitably start flowing when she spoke of her.

   When we received the devastating news about Joshua, I wrote her a letter in the first week looking for solace. I was reeling. In return, she sent me this letter in response to my reaching out to her just a few days later.

Saturday, January 24, 2009

Hi Linda,
You have been on my mind constantly and even when I dream. I don't know when the memorial for your son is or when you will get back in town, but I wanted to send you my thoughts as soon as possible.  Thank you for the loving words you sent my way. I feel so honored that you would think of me during a time like this and draw strength from my experience. I remember drawing strength from your experience you shared with me about your sister as well. I would like you to know that I am honored by your son's life and sacrifice to our country. I take my freedom less for granted today because of him.  I have never known anyone personally who died in a war, so this brings the war so much closer to my doorstep. 

   We are all grieving with you over your loss, for I know it is without boundaries. I realized after Vanessa went to her new life that I would look at life and after-life totally different than I used to. Somehow she opened up a new portal to me. I know we are only separated by mere vision and dimension and that as fast as life is, we will be together again soon.  I know without a doubt that the only thing we take from this life to the next is love, and so death is not an end, in fact I don't even call it that anymore. Our beloved children are in the arms of love right now and are happier than we can ever imagine. It is so important to let yourself grieve as often and as deeply as you need to. I find I need to cry my eyes out often and go all the way down with my sorrow. Then I start thinking about how happy Vanessa is and that she is still with me. I was told by several authorities on the subject that she is actually near me and protecting me and caring for me from the other side. I really believe this. I only can pick up myself by holding onto this perspective. 

   I realize more than ever how very temporarily we are here and Vanessa has taught me to live each day with all my heart, never neglecting an opportunity to love those in my path. The most important thing to avoid is regrets right now.  Joshua would only want you to know he understands everything from where he is and doesn't want anyone to feel bad about anything. Regrets and guilt can plague your transition into acceptance and peace. I have watched everyone in my family go through this and it really made them suffer twice as much. I have seen grief bring up other underlying sorrows that people were carrying. Sometimes it was hard to get everyone to just focus on Vanessa. But I know this is a very personal journey—and believe me— Joshua will help you go through it. He will come to you in many little ways and let you know he's near. I only wish I could have known him. 

   I hope sometime you can show me pictures and tell me all about him. He will always be there cheering you on to your finish line, Linda. He will give you courage to face all the obstacles in your path and help you live better than you ever did before. We are so blessed to have such wonderful children, if only for a short time.  Love you—and hope to see you soon. 
Love always, Cindi

Joshua in Fort Bragg, North Carolina on the day he won his green beret.

   When I received Cindi's letter I was so very deep in the pit of grief I couldn't even conceive of how Joshua might "speak to me", but just a few short weeks later, I found myself in the doctor's office one afternoon just after Joshua's death, feeling like I was going to collapse. I thought to myself, "Why am I so sick? God, this has truly has been an awful year and it's only just beginning!" Honestly, I was in the frame of mind that I didn't really care if I died, but Michelle would have none of my protestations and forced me to go to the doctor from afar. So it was while waiting for the doctor and feeling very sorry for myself that I heard Joshua's voice in my ear, "Self-pity is for losers, Mom". I stared harshly at Winnie the Pooh and Piglet on the wall (evidently I have been put in the "nursery") and I was feeling annoyed by the Disney motif. Just then, the nurse named Jenny came into the room and announces to me that she needs me to change to another room. I feel grateful for that at least. As I seat myself in the new room on the weird little examining table with the crinkly paper under me, I am intrigued by a beautiful photo on the wall to my left. The photo is of oaks and of beautiful wildflowers that look vaguely like cyclamen. I think to myself that it looks like home, but I am so far from home... how could it possibly be? I keep looking at the photo—it is a numbered print, and the title of the photograph is scrawled in a beautiful but tiny script which I can't read. 

Joshua—12-03-1978 to 01-16-2009—SSG US Army, Operation Enduring Freedom—
Photo courtesy of the Santa Barbara News-Press.

   One of Joshua's very favorite places in the world is Figueroa Mountain in the Santa Ynez Valley where I took them as boys. He loved to go there with his dog, Walker, and his friends, and he camped there often when he was old enough. We have always loved the place as long as I can remember. I can visualize like it was yesterday, driving with Jordan and Joshua in the first week that we got our very first new car—ever! The boys were about five and our life before that day was a series of clunkers—which means breaking down at any time. We did not have a reliable vehicle with which to go to the mountains. Our brand new car was a blue hatchback Honda Civic, and I belted the boys in the back seat, and we took off for the mountain. We drove up the winding road, and we stopped at the summit, where I let the boys play. We collected a bagful of pine cones before we headed home. I remember posing the boys in a huge bunch of yellow lupines for a photo before heading back home down the dusty dirt road.

Linda with Jordan and Joshua on Figueroa Mountain in the
Santa Ynez Valley. Photo courtesy of Ron Levy.

   When Joshua died, instead of going with my family to the beach on the day before his service, I drove up to Figueroa Mountain. I stopped all along the way to collect plants for a bouquet for his coffin. He was buried with oak, pine, mistletoe, white sage, mountain laurel, Toyon berry and a nice fat chunk of serpentine rock that I collected that day from the mountain as I paid homage to the sacred plants and my son who loved them and that beautiful mountain.

Josh and his dog, Walker, who was a wolf-hybrid.

   Meanwhile back at the doctor's office, as I sit, I am straining to read the script on the bottom of the photo, and even with my glasses on I have to lean closer and squint to try and read what is written at the bottom. I don't want to get up as I am covered from the waist down with one of those flimsy paper drapes.

"He will always be there cheering you on to your
finish line, Linda. He will give you courage
to face all the obstacles in your path and help you live
better than you ever did before."

   As I strain to read the words on the bottom of the photo, they gradually come into focus. I read:

"Shooting Stars, Figueroa Mountain, Santa Barbara, County— California"

   Tears welled up in my eyes, but I realized in a sudden flash of soul-piercing truth, that this was the message that I had been seeking from Joshua. He was indeed a shooting star who was part of that mountain. I knew in that instant that somehow I would find the strength inside myself to heal, and with the love of my family and friends I would manage to keep on keeping on. 

   And I have, and we have, and you can, too.

You belong among the wildflowers

You belong somewhere close to me

Far away from your trouble and worry

You belong somewhere you feel free

                —Tom Petty, Wildflowers

Linda and her son, Joshua in October of 2005. This was photographed on the pier in Cayucos, CA.

Boneless and Breaded Chicken Breasts — How Do I Love Thee? Even More When Thou Art Gluten-Free!

by Michelle

"First we eat, then we do everything else." M.F.K. Fisher

   Precooked Breaded Chicken is the darling of the frozen section of the grocery store. You know why? Those tasty morsels are frickin' delicious. Especially when the little guys are paired with Ranch Dressing. In addition, I particularly like to amp up the flavor quotient by drizzling on a mighty dose of Frank's Redhot® Buffalo Wing Sauce (for a spicy kick right in the taste buds). Being gluten-free, and liking to be very choosy about the chicken that I buy because most commercial chicken is filled with added hormones and antibiotics—I always make my own at home.

One of my all-time favorite sandwiches, The Buffalo Chicken is absolutely 
finger lickin' good. Canyon Bakehouse® gluten-free buns are a great choice. 
Frank's Redhot® Buffalo Wing Sauce is gluten-fee and Paleo-friendly.

   In my book, Chicken Caesar Salad is a contender for the best salad of all time. On a weekly basis, I either make it at home for a quick dinner or order it for lunch. The famous salad is particularly tasty when warm slices of breaded chicken are splayed over the top.
   And, don't even get me started on Chicken Parmigiana served atop a swirl of marinara coated spaghetti and garnished with a chiffonade of basil. To. Die. For.

Crave-worthy Chicken Parmigiana in Michelle World has a slice of Prosciutto nestled 
underneath the melted mozzarella and Parmesan cheeses.

Breaded Chicken Breasts are the basis for Chicken Piccata. 

   Invariably Linda and I find that the best time to catch-up with each other is when we're preparing dinner. We will both have our speaker phone setting on as we move through our normal kitchen activities of preparing a meal from scratch. Interspersed with our chatter, we can often hear the action of the knife blade on the cutting board, a block of cheese moving across the teeth of the grater, or something sizzling in a pan. We feel lucky that even if we can't be in the same kitchen at the same time, we are still sharing our love of cooking together on a frequent basis because this much we know is true— True friendship isn't about being inseparable, its about being separated and nothing ever changes.

From left to right: Juliette, Linda and Michelle—Photo taken by Fernando Serrano

A weeknight staple at our house—my gluten-free Chicken Caesar Salad.