Winter food - hearth or home

This is a very easy throw-together meal which can be cooked on a hearth fire or a conventional oven. I threw it together one day at my workplace, an 18th century colonial working farm. The woman scheduled to cook was unable to come and I was their last minute substitute. Totally unprepared, I had to use what was on hand at the farmhouse. I'm happy to report that three farm hands and three Revolutionary War militia men were happy with the results. I was graced with the title "Iron Chef", since at the farmhouse we use iron pots. Here's the recipe:

- 1/2 lb. bacon or sausage
- 6 apples
- 2 large onions
- 6 potatoes, parboiled
- 2 butternut squash

In a dutch oven, brown bacon or sausage. Rough chop peeled apples, onions, and squash (actually I don't peel the apples). Add to pot. Parboil potatoes for a few minutes. Drain and add to pot. Salt and pepper to taste. Place lid on dutch oven. Hang over a hearth fire or bake in conventional oven at 350 degrees F for about 45 minutes. If cooking over fire, time can vary - check and stir.

You can make this dish without meat as well. Just use a knob of butter instead.
Either way, it's a hearty dish and goes great with some crusty bread.

Speaking of which, I know a lot of bloggers have already talked about this book - that's how I found it. It's so easy to use. You make up one batch of dough, store it in the frig, and take dough as you need it - it will keep for ten days. The only catch is you will need a baking stone and a bread peel. But I have to tell you it's so worth it. I think that they will pay for themselves after the first two or three batches.

A snippet of one of the many delicious recipes.

Here's the finished product. The bread really does come out looking this good.

Bird in a Tree

I recently wrote a post about dealing with the feelings of an almost empty nest. I received the sweetest and most poetic response, written by my daughter-in-law. It really touched my heart, so I'm no longer feeling "blu, blu, blu". I reprinted her comment here. And I think my son is one lucky duck.

Niamh said...
"The little birdies cannot understand those who have roots. The trees cannot fathom a life with wings. The birdies have the freedom to fly from branch to branch, while the trees become the centerstage for this Earthly masterpiece. The daylight beckons the birdies to sing to the heavens, and the trees to praise with outstretched arms. In the spring, the birdies don great colors of the grace God has given them. The trees sprout their robes of flower blossoms and blooms. In the winter, the birdies nestle deep into the bark of their trees seeking shelter from the wind, and the trees breathe sighs of relief that their roots can provide the strenght to weather the winter storms. It is not for loss that the birdies fly, or that the trees have root. The trees would be lonely without the birdies, and the birdies would be lost away from home were it not for the hospitality of the trees. They both see life from the same perspective, the view of Earth from its nearest realm to Heaven. It is not that those with wings begrudge those with their roots. It is not that those with roots wish to have wings. Those with wings are small, but their work is necessary. Those with roots are large, and they provide the basis for survival for many more than themselves. It is simply that God wanted some to fly and some to remain stable - but both must do their work in order that what must, gets done."

Crown Cake

When our kids were little, we would make a crown-shaped cake and decorate it with candy "jewels" to celebrate the wise mens' visit to the Christ child. The kids are no longer little--I must be feeling nostalgic, but that's okay.


I am no ancient, no shepherd, no king,
I have no gold, no gift do I bring,
I'm only a man here who's remembering
When this lonely stable held court to a King.

I came seeking wisdom--nearly missing great grace!
The hope of all ages lingers still in this place,
The wind carries whispers of cries from that night,
When all those who sought Him found joy in His light.

The Court of a King, David Canfield and Pat Peterson

Counting Blessings #10

49 - airplanes that land safely

50 - hot water bottles and down comforters

51 - coffee served in bowls

52 - the kindness of strangers

53 - handmade mittens

54 - homemade caramel corn

55 - memories of summer with lavender fields

Kingfisher

Now that things are quieting down, I'm looking forward to spending these winter days painting. Canvases waiting to be played with are calling my name.

"The sunlight got in my eyes and I saw a strange picture," she explained. "A picture of all sorts of birds and animals in a wood."
"One sees the oddest things in woods," agreed David.
"What were you seeing?" asked Sally.
"Nothing out of the ordinary. Just a kingfisher. Though actually, a kingfisher is a bit out of the ordinary, isn't he? A heavenly bird."

Pilgrim's Inn
Elizabeth Goudge

Counting Blessings #9 - finding things to be grateful for in the everyday

41 - inspiration from across the sea

42 - he loved it!

43 - an afternoon in the city of brotherly love

44 - trying to figure out the new camera

45 - making wishes come true

46 - cooking cousins

47 - warm and cozy spots

48 - the smell of onions frying

For my King

Gerrit va Honthorst (1590-1656)
The Adoration of the Child

Mitt Hjerte Alltid Vanker
words by Hans Adolph Brorson (1732)
from The Crossing, The Court of a King


The miracle within and beyond all this
is God appearing here
In a stable small and rude.
He came, but was despised on this poor earth--
Him the eternal, honored Word.

Yet I know I can offer Him a dwelling place forever,
here in my heart.
Please come, sweet Jesus.
Come to this heart that is your home.
I know it's no strange place I offer you;
it is a place built and bought by you.
Here you can come back into your creation,
and I will wrap you in my heart and soul.

If I could, I would place palm branches
all around your feet.
For you, Lord, I will live and for you I will die.
I have found complete joy, as in my heart,
Lord, you are born anew.