A Really Good Thai Chicken & Apple Salad

What is better than Thai chicken on the grill? A sweet, salty and tangy salad made with the leftover Thai chicken, that's what. Since it seems summer is here to stay, it's time to break out the 'salad as dinner' trick I'm so fond of during these warm days full of sandy beaches, gardening, lollygagging and late dinners on the porch.

This is a seriously good salad and the best part is it takes about 15 minutes to throw together (assuming you've grilled the chicken ahead of time). Perfect for those days when you've been lollygagging, dillydallying and enjoying every last minute of summer sunshine but still need to eat dinner. Plus, it's loaded with fruits and vegetables— so you can add virtuous to the list of the day's activities.

Thai Chicken & Apple Salad(Adapted from Fine Cooking)

Dressing
1/2 cup Sweet & Sour Sauce (recipe here)
3 tbsp. fish sauce
1/4 cup fresh lime juice

Salad
1 Granny Smith apple, unpeeled, cored, quartered, and thinly sliced
1 tbsp. fresh lemon juice
1 orange or clementine
1 white onion, thinly sliced
1 red or yellow bell pepper, charred until soft, peeled, and sliced
1 cup red or white seedless grapes, halved
12 leaves arugula, torn into bite-size pieces
2 cups shredded Grilled Thai Chicken (recipe here)
1/4 cup unsalted, dry-roasted peanuts, coarsely chopped
1/4 cup mint leaves, crushed slightly and torn

Make the Dressing
In a small mixing bowl, combine the Sweet & Sour Sauce, fish sauce, and lime juice; set aside.

Assemble the Salad
In a small bowl, toss apple slices with lemon juice to prevent browning; set aside. Peel the orange or clementine and separate the sections. With a paring knife over a bowl, cut the segments in half or thirds and let the segments fall in the bowl. Add the apple, onion, yellow pepper, grapes, arugula, and chicken. Toss gently. Add the dressing, gently tossing again to mix thoroughly. Transfer to a shallow bowl or platter, sprinkle with the peanuts and mint leaves, and serve.

In A Good Way Of Life

The old threads are unraveling,
Get your needles ready. 
We are stitching a new quilt
of humanity.

Bring your old t-shirts,
worn out jeans, scarves, 
antique gowns, aprons, 
old pockets of plenty
who have held Earth's treasures, 
stones, feathers, leaves,
love notes on paper. 

Each stitch
A mindful meditation. 
Each piece of material
A story.

The more colour the better, 
so call in the tribes. 
Threads of browns, whites,
reds, oranges
Women from all nations
start stitching.

Let's recycle the hate, the abuse, 
the fear, the judgment. 
Turn it over, wash it clean, 
ring it out to dry. 
It's a revolution
of recycled wears. 

Threads of greens, blues, purples
Colourful threads
of peace, kindness, 
respect, compassion
are being stitched
from one continent to the next
over forests, oceans, mountains. 

The work is hard
Your fingers may bleed. 
But each cloth stitched together
Brings together a community. 
A world, our future world
Under one colourful quilt. 
The new quilt of humanity.

~Julia Myers

It was a first for me, a Native American drum ceremony near the Potato River. But as I stood near the moving water making its way toward Lake Superior and listened to Tony DePerry offer his prayers, I knew I was in the right place.  Meister Eckhart said, in the 13th century, 'if the only prayer you said in your whole life was, "thank you," that would suffice'. As I spread my tobacco into the water, I sent deeply heartfelt prayers of gratitude for Mother Earth, Lake Superior and the people who are re-imagining abundance and community in Northern Wisconsin.

Our souls have traveled through many lifetimes to be right here, right now— at a time when the heartbeat of a 2 billion year old mountain range, that once rivaled the Alps, and the largest body of freshwater in North America are threatened by human greed and the mining industry. Their shortsightedness has ignited a fire fueled by prayer, gatherings, ceremonies, story-telling and a re-definition of true, not stolen, power and influence that will not be extinguished.

A womb in bark— fitting for a space where the past is cherished and the future is being born amidst gratitude, feasting and ceremony.

We continued on our Saturday in the Penokees road trip to the Lac Courte Oreilles Harvest Camp near the proposed mine site and it was another eye opener. We walked into the camp and were met by Melvin, the head honcho, who warmly welcomed us and explained a few simple camp ground rules. In spite of the super-sized mosquitos, it was a magical place— a fully functioning settlement among the trees and rocks slated by GTac to become overburden.

An indigenous elder from British Columbia, Cecil Paul, told a story about a Magic Canoe, the preservation of the Kitlope, an old-growth forest in northern B.C. (story here) and the change that is possible when we gather around a fire, in a camp or in a mythical canoe. 'I was alone in a canoe," he (Paul) has said.  "But it was a magic canoe.  It was magic because it could make room for everyone who wanted to come on board, to come in and paddle together. The currents against us were very strong. But I believed we could reach our destination.  And that we had to for our survival.'

'You know, you guys call it 'the Kitlope,'" Cecil says. "But in our language we call it 'Huchsduwachsdu Nuyem Jees.'  That means 'the land of milky blue waters and the sacred stories contained in this place.' You think it's a victory because we saved the land.  But what we really saved is our heritage -- our stories which are embedded in this place and which couldn't survive without it, and which contain all our wisdom for living.' The LCO Harvest Camp is a place where, regardless of where you come from, all our wisdom for living is alive and well, available to anyone who walks into the forest off Moore Road.

We are in for a long haul— GTac isn't going away anytime soon but they are showing their true colors, as are we. It's maddening when you realize what you cherish has been sold to the highest bidder but we are shining light, from the banks of the Potato River or the LCO Harvest Camp, on the death throes of greed, hubris and corruption that doesn't fit in the world we are re-imagining. Community, ceremony, legacy, conservation and stewardship— good places to start changing our world.

Pickled Wild Onions

Wild onions, ramps, allium triciccum, wood leek— different words for the same pungent and fragrant spring gift from the forest floor. Ramps made an appearance at nearly every meal for weeks until Ted looked at me and asked for a ramp hiatus. I had to agree, it was time to take a break but I still had two or three pounds of those lovely wild onions in the fridge and I was not about to waste them. Since I dug those babies up with my own two hands, I felt a responsibility to make sure they were re-incarnated as something wonderful.

Pickling was the perfect way to preserve my foraged wild onions and since I have yet to meet a pickled thing I don't like, I knew it would be a fitting re-incarnation for my harvest.  As I stood at the sink, trimming and washing the last of those oniony bad boys, my mind wandered back to the day the kids, George, Ted and I went out to harvest the ramps near a rushing creek in a lush forest. Charlie scouted out the best ramp patches, Will wandered around with his camera, Sadie was trying to embrace the gnats swarming around her head, Meg and Ted were exploring and George awed and amazed us with his ability to scamper across a fallen tree over the creek. I bottled up that warm spring day with my family in each jar of wild onions I sealed. Food is love, plain and simple.

Pickled Wild Onions

2 pounds wild onions, cleaned and green leaves removed (I left some of the smaller onions leaves on)
1 cup white wine vinegar
1 cup white sugar
1 cup water
1/2 tsp. red pepper flakes
2 tbsp. fresh ginger, chopped
1 1/2 tsp. mixed peppercorns
1 tsp. mustard seeds
1/2 tsp. fennel seeds
1 tbsp. kosher salt
1 bay leaf
8 - 10 springs of thyme (depending on how many jars you are using)

Preparation
Bring the canning jars and lids to a boil in a stock pot, remove from heat and set aside. Bring salted water in a large saucepan to a boil over high heat and add wild onions and cook until crisp-tender (about 45 seconds). Remove the onions from the boiling water and immediately place in an ice bath. Drain and divide the ramps and sprigs of thyme between your sterilized canning jars.

Combine the remaining ingredients in a large saucepan and bring to a boil. Cook, stirring, until the sugar is dissolved and then pour the mixture over the wild onions and seal jar. Let cool to room temperature and then refrigerate for 2 - 3 weeks.

Salty Potatoes & Ramp Pesto- A Perfect Pair

Maybe it's the Irish in me but I love potatoes and maybe it's the Italian man I married but I also love pesto so when Food52 (recipe here) delivered Jose Pizarro's salt-crusted potatoes to my email in-box, I knew what I was making for dinner. Some of the ramps I harvested with Ellen (read about it here) were still in the fridge and I thought they would be perfect, re-purposed as pesto, with my salty, little potatoes.

It took me a couple of attempts to get the pesto 'right'— straight ramp pesto is a formidable beast. I don't think I've ever eaten something that strong before, my breath could have melted steel or at least repelled every mosquito in Bayfield county. I knew I needed to temper the beast while maintaining the distinctive wild onion/garlic flavor of a ramp fresh from the forest floor. I settled on spinach, basil and sun-dried tomatoes and it was exactly what those wild ramps needed to become a bit more civilized.

Wild Ramp Pesto

10 - 12 ramps, roots removed and washed
1 cup spinach
1/2 cup basil
1/4 cup oil cured sun-dried tomatoes
3/4 cup Parmesan, shredded
1/4 cup plus 2 tbsp. olive oil
1/4 cup unsalted butter, melted and cooled
1 tsp. kosher salt

Preparation
Add all ingredients except the olive oil to a food processor. Turn processor on and slowly add oil. Once added, stop the processor and scrape sides to make sure all ingredients get incorporated. The pesto freezes well (in an airtight container). Makes about 2 cups.

70 Percent Water

'Land and water are not really separate things, but they are separate words, and we perceive through words.'

David Rains Wallace, The Untamed Garden and Other Personal Essays

We are 70 percent water and fresh water is essential to our survival, two seemingly simple facts. I've heard them many times in my 43 years but ever since I've fallen in love with a vulnerable Great Lake, fresh water is always on my mind. Lake Superior, the last place on earth with clean and abundant fresh water, is threatened by the mining industries in Minnesota, Wisconsin, Michigan and Ontario. It's a foregone conclusion, regardless of the 'research' and 'engineering' a mining company will espouse, that pollution is a by-product of the extraction industries and any pollution, on the shores of 10 percent of the world's fresh water, is a global problem.

According to Water.org, , a child dies every 21 seconds from a water related illness, women in developing countries spend 200 million hours a day collecting water and 780 million people lack access to clean water. While 3.4 million people a year die from water related illnesses and the United Nations declared 2013 the Year of International Water Cooperation, there are companies (Polymet, GTac and Rio Tinto) seeking to build new iron ore, copper and nickel mines in the pristine wilderness on the shores of Lake Superior and putting fresh water at risk.

Where is the hue and cry? Where are the millions of people taking a stand against corporate greed? What happened to 'when you know better, you do better'? Why hasn't the global issue of access to clean water stopped these mining companies in their tracks? All good and maddening questions waiting to be answered. I do know the answer to one question posed by Aldo Leopold in A Sand County Almanac, 'Now, we face the question whether a still higher 'standard of living' is worth its cost in things natural, wild and free'— absolutely not because our standard of living in intricately linked to all things natural, wild and free and as such, any imbalance is the beginning of the end. I'm lucky to live in a community that shares my deep appreciation for the natural world and is working tirelessly to protect Lake Superior, a global resource, but we need more voices asking those questions and demanding answers.

When we first pulled into Justice Bay on Sand Island 14 years ago, I couldn't believe my eyes— the water was crystal clear and we could see straight down in 20 feet of water. We were used to the murky water of the Duluth harbor and I knew there was no going back after spending a week in the Apostle Islands. We didn't go back to Duluth and the Apostle Islands became the backdrop for our lives, memories and stories. I'm still awestruck at the pristine wilderness surrounding me, it's nothing short of a miracle that it's survived as long as it has. A miracle worth protecting for those who will come after me.

Ted and I took the kids and George out for an adventure in the Islands yesterday and we couldn't have asked for a more beautiful, sunny and calm day. There wasn't much wind so we decided to go all the way to Devil's and check out the sea caves. On the way to the caves, we charted a course that has become familiar to me— past Oak, Otter and Bear Islands. We've been fortunate to have spent many days and nights in the Islands and I wondered if someone, who has never been to Devil's or Lake Superior, would care if the Lake, the Penokees, the Kakagon Sloughs, the Upper Peninsula or the BWCA were destroyed by mining companies? Baba Dioum said, 'In the end we will conserve only what we love. We will love only what we understand. We will understand only what we are taught' and if people aren't taught to value, love and conserve these wild places, will they?

While there are lots of people who haven't stepped foot in the Penokee Hills, Oak Island or the BWCA, they understand the intrinsic value those wild places have in their lives. We are part of a greater whole and everyone, even the ones who seek to destroy the wilderness, has heard the earth's heartbeat— in a tree-fort as a 6-year-old, in a rumble of thunder on a warm summer night, in the caress of water while swimming, the sting of wind-driven snowflakes or the smell of pine needles warmed by the sun. Are these common experiences enough to stop the mining companies from ripping off mountain-tops, polluting watersheds and creating mountains of over-burden? If we all wake up from our slumber and open our eyes, then the answer is a resounding yes. Mining companies have operated in the Lake Superior Basin for years, with various degrees of pollution (remember Silver Bay and Reserve Mining) but it's time we realize the biggest resource in the basin is clean water, not the minerals deep in the earth.

The following websites for the Polymet Mine in Minnesota, the Rio Tinto Mine in Michigan and the Penokee Mine in Wisconsin are a good place to start to understand why Lake Superior, the Apostle Islands, the Penokee Hills, the Boundary Waters Canoe Area and the pristine wilderness of the Upper Peninsula of Michigan are worth saving. There is a long road ahead of us and conservation is a tough sell in a culture of greed and hubris but our voices raised in defense of Lake Superior can change the course those in power have plotted for us.

Aldo Leopold posed an important question in an article he wrote for Outdoor Life. I'd say that the mining industry will most definitely make a poor master and a legacy of good stewardship to the natural world will serve us, and the people who will come after us, far better.

‘For unnumbered centuries of human history the wilderness has given way. The priority of industry has become dogma. Are we as yet sufficiently enlightened to realize that we must now challenge that dogma, or do without our wilderness? Do we realize that industry, which has been our good servant, might make a poor master? Let no man expect that one lone government bureau is able—even tho it be willing—to thrash out this question alone.

….Our remnants of wilderness will yield bigger values to the nation’s character and health than they will to its pocketbook, and to destroy them will be to admit that the latter are the only values that interest us.’

Aldo Leopold ‘A Plea For Wilderness Hunting Grounds’ The Best of Outdoor Life: One Hundred Years of Classic Stories

Our First Long Island Day Of 2013

Katie, Dan Mollie and Jimmy came up for Jack's graduation this weekend and decided to spend the day with us on Long Island. We grabbed lunch stuff, packed the cooler and were in the boat by 11 am (which is amazing given the size of our crew).

I can't even begin to describe a day like today— it was simply glorious. Mary Oliver summed it up perfectly in her poem, Poppies, 'but I also say this: that light is an invitation to happiness, and that happiness, when it's done right, is a kind of holiness, palpable and redemptive'.

Will found a very, very small snapping turtle on one of our walks down the beach.

A dragonfly took a respite in Ted's hands and allowed me to snap a few photos.

Jack and Jimmy— the oldest and youngest boys in our family.

Flickers feathers on the beach and in the water.

While I would rather admire the beautiful Flicker feathers on a bird flying above me, they looked lovely under water.

After lunch, we walked down the beach towards the lighthouse.

Mollie took her time looking for shells, baby dragonflies and driftwood.

The kids had a long jump contest and Mollie was a serious contender.

Mollie and me— footprints in the sand.

Blue crawfish claws were the beach treasure of the day.

Long Island beach flag cast in sand— the summer of 2013 is off to a glorious start.

Saturday Morning On The Square

When we were in Madison for Jack's orientation, we spent Saturday morning on the square at the Farmer's Market (the first one of 2013). It has been a tardy and cold spring everywhere, including Southern Wisconsin, and it was slim pickings at the market but it was cheese heaven at Fromigination. I realize I tend (heavily) towards hyperbole but I love, love, love cheese and Fromagination had a thoughtfully curated collection of cheeses that put a huge smile on my face.

I wonder who hauls the buckets of sap at the sugarbush— Dean or DeLuca?

To be honest, I wasn't terribly excited to visit the Capital building but figured it was our civic duty as parents to show the kids. I'm glad I went in, it's a spectacularly elegant building.

Liberty— the state of being free within society from oppressive restrictions imposed by authority on one’s way of life, behavior, or political views. Words to live by.

The symmetrical design was absolutely beautiful.

The way home was clearly marked.

There was so much to photograph, including an action shot of Will.

A badger stands sentry over the Supreme Court— I wonder if he's related to Honey Badger?

The highlights of the Farmer's Market were: pickled things, 'frost-kissed' spinach, flowers, cheese and bread. I can't wait to visit in July when the stands will be bursting with fresh fruit and vegetables.

These cow cookies were seriously good.

The kids were wondering why a stuffed lioness was hanging out in a shop window in Wisconsin. I couldn't come with a plausible explanation so we decided to take a photo of her and move on.

Who doesn't like hot and steamy buns?

The Teddy Tantrum Zone and pasties. I'm not clear what the two have to do with each other but like the stuffed lioness, we chalked it up to Madison wackiness and went to lunch.

There were musicians on every street corner— cellos, guitars, banjos and accordions. After a morning in Madison, I know Jack is going to have the time of his life when he leaves in September. There are so many colors, textures and experiences waiting for him around the square, it's a vibrant place for a young man to start his next chapter.

A Field Of Ramps, A Few Fiddleheads & Ham Salad

Last year my friend, Kathy, stopped at the house with a bundle of wild ramps (read about it here). That bundle of ramps seemed like a magical gift from the forest— a bit wildness in my kitchen waiting to feed us with its memories of spring water and emerging life. This year, I wanted to find my own secret patch but had no idea where to start. Foraging would not make the list of the top 100 skills Mary Dougherty possesses but I was eager to learn. As usual, I had everything I needed right in front of me.

Ellen and her husband, Eric, own Blue Vista Farm (read about our blueberry picking adventure here) and not only is she a maven of healing plants, she one of my dearest friends. She just completed her Earth Medicine Apprenticeship and when she graciously agreed to share her spot with me, I knew it was going to be good. We hiked into the woods, over a log and into a field of ramps that blew my mind— it was a patch of spring green leaves with an aroma of wet forest floor and wild onions.

Ellen found some wild currant plants on our way through the forest. It was enlightening to spend a couple of hours with her. She has a strong connection to nature and it was fun to learn a little about the plants I see everyday. We're doing a cooking class on July 12, Gathering for the Table: Celebrating the Sacred in our Food, at Blue Vista Farm. I can't wait to cook freshly foraged greens and have dinner in her garden, overlooking the Lake. It's going to be an amazing night.

Ellen's patch of ramps was epic— they were everywhere I looked. Ramps grow slowly and are sensitive to over harvesting. A good rule of thumb is a ratio of 1 to 20 (harvest one and leave 20).

We found this Robin's egg on our way back to the car— a good omen for the new beginnings we are blessed with every spring.

Why ham salad, you ask? There are two reasons— I love ham salad (made with Hellman's) and ramps are the perfect substitute for green onions. My Mom used to make ham salad, with a manual meat grinder that she clamped on the counter, after Easter every year. I can't say it was one of my favorite foods growing up but like blue cheese and pâté, it grew on me as I grew up. I made a sandwich yesterday with lettuce, tomato and ham salad that rocked (an HSLT sandwich) but it's really good spread on Ritz crackers as well.

Ham Salad With Ramps

1 pound ham, cubed
3 tbsp. capers, chopped
8 pickled jalapeno, chopped
4 tbsp. ramp leaves, finely chopped
1/4 cup ramps (white and light pinks parts), chopped
1/8 cup red onion, chopped
1/2 cup Hellman's mayonnaise
2 tbsp. Dijon mustard
Kosher salt and pepper, to taste

Preparation
Place ham in a food processor and pulse until roughly chopped. Transfer to a large bowl, add all other ingredients and stir to combine thoroughly. Taste for salt and pepper and chill for at least 2 hours. Keeps for about a week, covered, in the refrigerator.

There's So Many Good Wines To Seek Out

2009 Ghostwriter Chardonnay

This is not your usual California Chardonnay— it's deep golden-yellow color, perfume-y nose and slightly oxidized finish lets you know you're not in Kansas (or California) anymore. I bought it because I like the winemaker's (Kenny Likitprakong) style— all his wines are just a little different from what you'd expect from a Pinot Noir, Zinfandel or Chardonnay. This bottle is ready to drink now. It's on the cusp of beginning to show its age, but if you can find a bottle, give it a try.  I guarantee it's not what you're expecting— almonds, orange and honey with just a touch of oak but I bet you won't forget it.

2010 Renwood Zinfandel 'Premier Old Vine'

California knows how to 'do' Zinfandel and this one is a perfect example— ripe and lush with a dusty finish. It is definitely on the sweeter side, lots of dried fruit at first, but then the wine moves into cherries, spice and black pepper on the finish. It's acidity balances all the fruit nicely and it has a pronounced vanilla, raspberry and blackberry nose. All in all, a great wine for $20.00 and one I'm going to keep around the house.

Orin Swift E-1 Locations Wine

To say I was excited to try this wine is an understatement. Dave Phinney (of the Prisoner and Saldo fame) is another of my favorite wine makers and I love Spanish wine— I knew this was going to be good. And it was, I mean how can you go wrong with a blend of Grenache from Priorat, Tempranillo from Rioja, and Carignan from Ribera del Duero? It starts with a ripe nose of ripe blackberry, a little sage and violets and deposits you in a zesty and bright land full of ripe fruit, jam and figs with a few smoky and meaty notes thrown in for good measure. It's a nicely balanced, medium bodied, easy drinking wine for 18.00. This one is definitely worth seeking out. I'm on the lookout for more, it's that good for the price.

2010 Maison Alain Paret Valvigneyre Cotes du Rhone Syrah

This wine is 100% Syrah, harvested from 30 year-old vines in the Northern Rhone Valley. It pours a dark purple-ish black in the glass and has a nose of tart cherries, raspberries and herbs. It is medium bodied with plum, cherries and blackberry jam flavors and finishes with a bit of anise, minerals and smoke. It's definitely on the austere side but is nicely defined, with good lingering acidity. If you are looking for a bottle of wine with a bit of nuance, fruit and lively acidity, this is the one. If you want a fruit bomb— might I suggest the Renwood Zinfandel?

2008 Portal del Montsant Santbru Montsant Carinyenes Velles

As my wine tastes evolve, I've decided I was a Spaniard in another life because I can't get enough Spanish wine. It's a proprietary blend of Syrah and Carinena from very old vines and reminds me a little of Black Slate Priorat. There are lots of candied cherry notes, crisp acidity, ripe tannins and a nice long finish. Wine Spectator had this to say about this beauty, 'Featuring aromas of kirsch and blackberry, this dense red shows firm tannins that give way to ripe fruit, mountain herb and licorice flavors. Not muscular, but racy and long. Drink now through 2016. 91 points'. Trust me, they know what they're talking about— I'm saving my other two bottles for a special occasion.

2007 Bodega del Abad Carracedo Bierzo Mencia

More Spanish wine but this time it's a Mencia from Bierzo. It's another Wine Spectator darling, 'Plush and expressive, this modern red shows a dense, velvety texture that carries kirsch, plum, cocoa, anise and herbal flavors, with well-integrated tannins and just enough acidity to keep it all lively. 93 points.'— they pretty much nailed it on the head. It's a complex wine that needs a two or three hour decant or a couple additional years in the bottle to really show showcase the power of the Mencia grape. I need to explore Mencia a little more, it tastes like Cabernet Franc's Spanish cousin. Wine exploration, now that's a concept I can really get behind!