Thursday, October 29, 2009

Cultural Diversity

Whirrrr, SMASH... The crowd cheers. Whirrrrrr, Crash. Children jump up and down with delight, clapping their hands. Moms and Dads are wrapped in large coats and blankets to ward off the cold. With each new launch, spectators rush forward to get the perfect shot. I can't believe that kid in front of me wont sit down. I'll never be able to capture the moment with him standing there.

What the heck am I doing? Why do I think I need a scrap book page full of pumpkins flying through the air? Pumpkins, yes I said pumpkins. We are spending the day at the local "Pumpkin Chunck'n". Are you asking yourself what is a "Pumpkin Chunck'n"? Apparently this annual event takes place in small towns all over the United States. I am not sure they are all the same, but I can describe this particular one.

In the center of the Rodeo arena (what do you mean you don't have a rodeo arena?) was parked something that resembled a 1970's Pinto. As if life lived as a brown econo wasn't bad enough, lined up on the far side of the arena were five home made contraptions. They ranged from medieval trebuchets to air compressed cannons and everything in between. The contestants showed their skills as they took turns flinging, shooting and otherwise hurling pumpkins at the target painted on the side of the poor abandoned Pinto. Some hit their mark while others flew straight up before landing with a unimpressive thud in front of the frustrated chuckers. The highlight of the day was the air cannon, it not only hit it's target time after time, but shot with such force that many of the pumpkins tore holes right through the car.

This along with the preceding costume parade made up the town's "Fall Festival". Quite the cultural experience for a brisk fall day. We returned home for a hot beverage and trip to the bathroom, both of which had eluded us at the "Festival".

My husband surprised me with tickets to the "Fall Festival Dinner" at Hot Lake Springs for later that evening. Hot Lake Springs requires a note of explanation. Yes, it is really a hot lake, a sulfur spring that was once a major medical attraction at the turn of the century. The beautiful hotel fell into disrepair and the site became known for nothing more than it's rotting buildings and supposed ghosts. A few years ago it was purchased by a local artist and his wife and over the last four years they have been slowly restoring the site to it's former glory. From time to time my husband has been invited to the hotel to take part in ground breaking ceremonies. When he has returned home he has always raved about the progress of the property and the art for sale in the main gallery. To be honest I expected little more than Motel 6ish rooms full of cowboy art. Not that I have anything against cowboy art,it has just never been my style. And I had pretty much had my fill of "Festivals" for one day.

I admit that it was with much uncertainty that I got out of the car. But to say that I was pleasantly surprised would be an understatement. The large front gallery was full of exquisite art ranging from life size bronze work to a dark and brooding watercolor painting of keys that had been unveiled that day. At dinner we sat with a potter, originally from Brazil and her husband. Then it was off to tour the rooms under construction. Each room had a flare all it own and most sported attached cozy sitting rooms. The kind of rooms found at fine hotels in many large cities. We ended the night by chatting with the artist in residence. Although we knew this lovely lady socially we had never seen her work in all of it's glory. When she offer me the chance to attend a future watercolor boot camp I jumped at the chance.
As we left the circular driveway I thought back over my day. From pumpkins flying through the air with the greatest of ease to the world class bronze overlooking the valley. Now that is what I call cultural diversity!


Moist Pumpkin Cake(wouldn't want to waste all of those chucked pumpkins)
2 cups Sugar
1 cup Oil
4 Eggs
3 cups Flour
2 teaspoons Baking powder
2 teaspoons Baking soda
2 teaspoons Cinnamon
1/2 teaspoon Nutmeg
1/4 teaspoon Cloves
1/2 teaspoon Ginger
1 teaspoon Salt
1 Can pumpkin pie filling
1/2 cup Chopped nuts ( opt )


Mix everything in order given. batter will be thick. Bake in a tube pan or two 9x5x3-inch loaf pans.
Bake at 350° for 65 to 70 minutes for tube pan and less time for other pans. A wooden pick or cake tester inserted in center should come out clean. Let stand wrapped overnight before cutting.

Thursday, October 22, 2009

Where Everybody Knows Your Name

My days of going to the grocery store in my PJ's are long gone. While living in the greater LA area, I wore my jammies, sweats and even the occasional boxer shorts to the market without batting an eye. I knew those who saw me would never see me again. Better yet was the fact that someone in the same location would most likely be dressed far more creatively than me. Not so anymore. Living in a small community means that I will undoubtedly run into someone I know, my husband knows or another parent from my children's school. Not that I am an overly vain woman, but it never fails that the time I jump in my car in my fuzzy slippers I will run into that PAC Mom who wants to chat about fundraising. And I for one do not want my flannels to be the topic of conversation at the next bake sale. And so, for the quick jaunt to the corner store, I fully clothe myself in the "uniform" (jeans, hoodie and when called for hat and sunglasses).
Then there is the traditional small town complaint of "everybody being in your business". I would be more than happy to rattle on about the evils of small town gossip, but I don't really have any interesting "business" for people to get in the middle of. So, we will have to leave this particular issue for someone else to ramble aimlessly about.
Now we come to my daily trip into Starbucks. Yes, we have a Starbucks here. Mind you it's the only one for about a hour in any direction, but it is ours and we are dang happy to have it. Opps, off topic again. Anyway, when I walk into Starbucks the greeting I receive is warmer than any bar fly on Cheers could have hoped for. By the time I reach the counter, my drink, non-fat Cinnamon Dolce Latte no whip, no sprinkles is ready and waiting for me. Due to my lack of pre-caffeine brain function, this is an invaluable service, to not only me, but the community at large.
Wait a minute, I am suppose to be complaining here. Oh, yeah and have I mentioned the fact that local sales people call me when items they know I like are on clearance? Or that the librarian sets aside books about "dead English people", because she knows it's all I read?
I guess my point is that, although I miss the days of make-up free trips to the post office, I am beginning to think the trade off has been more than worth it. I kind of like the fact that the gal behind the counter knows my preference for Superhero stamps.

Baked French Toast (there are just some things you shouldn't have to get out of your jammies for)
12 slices white bread, crust removed, cubed
2 8oz pkgs. cream cheese, cubed
12 eggs
2 c. milk
1/3 c maple syrup
1 c. frozen blue
Layer 1/2 of the bread cubes in a 9x13 casserole, followed by cream cheese cubes, and then the rest of the bread. Top with blueberries.
Beat together eggs, milk and syrup. Pour over bread and cheese layers. Chill 8 hrs or overnight. Remove from fridge 30 min. prior to baking. Cover and bake 350* (325* for glass pans) for 30 min. Uncover and bake additional 25-30 min.

Topping
In a saucepan over Med heat cook together:
1 c. sugar
2 tbs cornstarch
1 c water
1 c blueberries
1 tbs butter
Until hot and thickened. Serve on the side to be poured over each piece.

Sunday, October 11, 2009

Picking Apples


What to do, what to do? With one extra hour before picking up our son from football practice on a crisp yet sunny Monday, picking wild apples seemed the order of the day.

Wild apples, before moving to The Valley I had never heard of such a thing. When we had the Fall itch to go apple picking in California we would head for the foothills scattered with over priced "you pick" farms. Here in the mountains of Eastern Oregon apple picking is quite a different experience.

The mountains around our home are littered with old abandoned homesteads. Reminders of those exceptional folks who headed West on the Oregon Trail to settle this area. A few homes stand still, slowly being reclaimed by the forest around them. Far more often the only evidence that they were ever here is the orchards they left behind. Although these plum and apple trees still stand and produce fruit, it is not the large shiny specimens we find in the stores or even at those over priced "you pick" stands. Yet these small misshapen treasures pack quite a punch of flavor.

On this Fall day, we headed up Mt. Harris to a homestead overlooking The Valley. There along side of a gravel road, three of us picked. My husband pulled down the branches while our daughter and I quickly filled our tub with these small but sweet treats. It was then that my mind began to wander back. Back to the time when these trees got their start. Who planted them? What brave woman gave up everything she knew and loved to follow her husband and a dream? Did she relish the challenge of solitary life? Or did she lose herself and her mind somewhere along the way? (I have always pictured myself in this second grouping.)

So, as I put one last jar of Apple Butter in my pantry I am thankful. First I am thankful for those extraordinary people who settled the land I now call home. And secondly that God knew better than to make me one of them.

Bavarian Apple Cake

2 c. sifted flour
2 tsp. ground cinnamon
1/2 tsp. salt
1 tsp. baking soda
2 c. sugar
2 eggs, room temp.
3/4 c. vegetable oil
4 c. peeled and thinly sliced apples

Icing
1 1/2 c. confectioners sugar
3 oz. cream cheese, room temp.
3 tbls. melted butter
1 tsp. vanilla extract

Preheat oven to 350*. Spray Bundt pan with non-stick spray. Mix together all cake ingredients together with wooden spoon. Spread into bundt pan and bake 45-50 min. or until cake tester inserted into center comes out clean. Cool in pan for 20 min., loosen sides and center with rubber spatula and turn out onto plate.
Mix icing ingredients together. When cake is completely cool spread with icing.

Monday, October 5, 2009

MOB

There are three reasons men live in The Valley (not the one you may be thinking of, but the fully enclosed farm land surrounded by mountains thousands of feet high, that I call home). First there are the locals, men born and raised here. Next, those who move here for work. Considering our limited occupational opportunities they consist of mostly railroaders and foresters. Lastly there is the largest group who move here because of their passion for the outdoors and all it offers. Hunting, hiking, fishing and camping draw many men who give up good paying jobs and the conveniences of the city for a chance to live "the simple life".

On the other hand most of the women who live here have one simple thing in common. They choose to love one of those men listed above. Yes, there are the few who are local to The Valley, but unless they marry another local, they leave. It could be the cold harsh winters, the lack of retail options, the fact that a simple trip to Costco would take 2 1/2 hours (each way) or the inability to make a decent living that keeps them from home. But the facts are that most of the women I have come in contact with are from another part of the state, or even another part of the country. This uniting fact makes us proud members of a very exclusive group, the MOB, Mail Order Brides. No, our husbands did not pick us out of a catalog and send us a plane ticket. Instead we all meet and married men from this unique area, who eventually brought us "home".

My personal journey to The Valley began 15 years ago when I met and married a former grass seed farmer. Yes, that is a real thing, somebody has to harvest that stuff you spread on your lawns. But I digress. At the time I believed that his past was just that, his past. After all he was living in LA, studying to be a pastor. I could never imagine him returning to his roots (pardon the pun). But eight years later, he received a phone call that would change everything. He was offered a job at a church with fifteen minutes of the town of 200 where he grew up. And so, here we are, living in that same Valley where he learned to hunt, fish, backpack and yes farm.

Like myself, many of my girlfriends never visualised themselves living in an area where deer season is considered a national holiday. But, they fell in love and gave up good jobs, cushy lives and family to move to a place where is is not uncommon to see camo in Wal-Mart, at a wedding or even the prom. These women include a former successful sales woman who now raises a garden and "puts up" more produce than most large grocery stores. A gifted translator who now spends her extra time motivating other ladies to run marathons and attempt triathlons. And a brilliant curriculum developer who is now fully devoted to homeschooling her three children. These members of the MOB, along with many others I have met and developed lasting friendships with, awe and inspire me. The drive and determination that made them so successful in their previous lives has never left. They still push themselves and those around them to reach higher, when what most would have do is sat down and ate a box of Bon Bons.

So, this winter, when all of the passes out of The Valley are snowed shut, I think I will call up a former exec. from Nike and see if she wants to tackle a new project. After all, members of the MOB stick together.

Corn Sqush Soup (perfect for fall days)
12 strips bacon,diced
1 med. onion diced
1 celery rib chopped
2 tbls. flour
1 can (14oz) chicken broth
6 cups cooked and mashed Butternut squash
2 cans cream corn
2 cups Half and Half
1 tbls. parsley chopped
salt and pepper

In large stock pot cook bacon, remove, drain. Reserve 2 tbls drippings and saute onions and celery in it untill tender. Stir in flour. Gradually stir in broth, cooking and stiring for 2 min.
Stir in squash, corn, half and half, parsley, bacon and salt and pepper to taste. Cook untill heated through.
Garnish with sour cream and cheese.