The Cost of Everything

Today I drove home from my last day of my 9 to 5 job, thinking about how everything costs something.

When I was in University, I didn't like how long it would take me to get places by foot, bike or bus. I often felt like I was wasting my time, getting from place to place. Now that I have a car, and a monthly insurance payment, and a gas tank to fill every week or two, I realize that the alternative is wasteful in a different way. And it occurs to me that this is true of all expenses: in fact, it is probably true of every action we take, every single day. There is a cost associated with almost any action. I am sure there is some theory in Physics or Economics that accounts for this, but I am not a physicist or economist, so I'm just going to give you my personal take on the matter.

Everything is made of energy. Everything you do (or think, or say) uses your body's energy. This is why you have to sleep every night. This is also why you have to eat food. And, it's why you feel like you have no energy in the winter time: all of our energy ultimately comes from the sun. Our existence is dependent on the sun, whether we like it or not. And in the winter, we see a lot less of her.

Me, driving.

Going places uses your body's energy. But if you are rich/lucky enough to live somewhere where it is an option, you can trade your time and effort in to have that energy in a different form: you can work 9 to 5, and put your energy into your job, to get money, with which you can then purchase something (a car, or a bike) that will allow you to use less energy to get where you want to go.

But in order to do this, you must be chained to a desk every day.

I used to think that having a car would give me freedom. In fact, when I mention to people that I often think of selling my car, that is the usual response I get: oh no, don't do that, you'll lose your freedom and independence! And since I still have my car, I guess that means I tend to agree with them to some extent. But here's the thing: if having a car means I have to work a job that doesn't truly make me happy, am I really that free and independent? Am I not actually even more dependent than I was before? I am dependent on my job to provide me with the money to pay my car insurance and put gas in my car. I am not free to do the things I would like to do with my time, because I am spending my time working to pay for my "freedom."

Huh?

Do you really want to be these people?

Perhaps if I was doing something that I truly loved doing, that gave me pleasure and joy and passion and emotional energy, it would be reasonable to do this. But I have not yet found a way to make a living of those things (I'm working on it!), and I don't think it is reasonable to work a job that doesn't make me happy simply for the purpose of being able to... drive around.

I have concluded that if I did not have a car, I would actually have a lot more energy. I would get more exercise getting myself places, and everyone knows that exercise gives you energy. I would be healthier. I would know the true cost (in time and energy) of getting places, so I wouldn't jam my life full of things to do, and I would have more time to stop and think, do yoga, meditate, and just be. And best of all, I wouldn't be relying on an unsustainable resource to get me from place to place at high speeds. I have a funny feeling that all of this speed is going to cost us a lot more than we realize, somewhere down the line.

My neighbourhood (sort of): Rideau Canal at night.

Walking and biking are so much more enjoyable than driving. No matter where you live, you don't truly know your neighbourhood until you have walked it. If your goal is to truly be wherever you are, travel at any speed becomes enjoyable-- an act of exploring and living within the geography you inhabit, rather than madly dashing from one location to another, "getting things done."

Similarly, I believe that if I take pleasure in growing my own food, it's silly to work a job so that I can eat. So much energy goes into producing and transporting food! This seems so wasteful to me. Why are other people working to make my food, when working to make my own is the very thing that brings me the greatest joy?

With every move I make, I want to become more connected to the earth-- and I can do so by slowing down, sowing seeds, and savouring every moment of the day. For me, this is what it truly means to be free.

For the Love of Drudgery!

I cancelled my cel phone bill and the cancellation kicked in today. At first I was worried I would go through withdrawal, and I am sure there will be times where I wish my phone still worked, but so far I feel liberated. I just called a real person to make plans with them, for the first time in a very long time. As I spoke, leaving a message on their machine, I realized I was feeling relieved. Even though I was talking to a machine.

Turns out, human connections are healthy, for more than one reason. We need each other, as much as we need to sleep or breathe or eat. When we don't speak to each other, we create walls. Human connections can be made in lots of ways, and I am certain that hearing each other's voices is one of them. So is touch. Consider the words of Alan Muskat, from his article, No Taste Like Home:

Struggling to keep up with the March of Progress, we also leave each other behind. We've invented machines to do work that our mind considers tedious, like processing wild food, weaving, and washing clothes. We call it drudgery, and women fought hard to be liberated from it. But what makes drudgery dull is isolation. This kind of work is meant to be shared, and it's just the sort of mindless activity people can do while hanging out, catching up, and really getting to know each other. I believe the loss of drudgery has unwoven the fabric of society. From TV to computers, our interactions with the world and with each other have become mediated; that's why it's called "media." We've gone from face look to Facebook. What we've supposedly gained in time — again, only to spend it working for The Man — we've lost in community. Divide and be conquered.

I'm excited about taking steps toward living a life where I can connect with people in a more real way. And I'm glad that I have an excuse to call instead of texting. Or to stop by someone's house without calling first: if I don't have a cel phone and I'm just happening by, how would I be able to call ahead? Spontaneous connections are important, I feel. 

So are physical connections. I recently read about how human touch is not only a stress-reliever, but in fact, it has healing power. As soon as you think about this, you think, of course! It makes sense. There is a reason my sister says her massage therapist is as much a therapist as she is a massage therapist. And it's probably not just about the fact that she is easy to talk to. The people who we feel comfortable touching are the people who we feel comfortable being ourselves with. 

I knew Charlotte Diamond had the right idea!

Now, everyone go hug someone they love. 

Thank You, St. Francis.

It is beginning to dawn on me that my path to farming was more of an evolution than a decision.

When someone asks me how I came to the decision that farming is to be my path, I have a difficult time answering. I don't know if there was a moment when I knew it for certain, but sometimes I look back on my life and try to figure out how I got here.

Me and George

I don't think it was growing up on a farm that did it. Not all on its own, anyway. Of course, if I hadn't grown up on a farm, I probably wouldn't know the first thing about farming. But still, I didn't grow up thinking that I was going to be just like my Dad, or that I wanted to get back to the land (I was kind of already there). I was exposed to a lot of things that other kids weren't, of course. Who knows at what early age I first observed the slaughtering of a chicken, or the miracle of an animal giving birth? But none of these things were what lead me to my decision to farm for a living. In fact, if anything, these things caused me to take farming for granted. The lifestyle my parents led (bless them and their hard-working ways) served only to lead me to believe that farming was not, in fact, a realistic way of life. 

So yes, growing up on a farm influenced me for certain. After all, there is nothing like getting scolded by your sisters because you didn't realize that keeping a lock of the hair of your long-dead horse Daisy in your room [as a memento!] was kind of gross. And how many kids can say they made their first buck selling eggs that they plucked from beneath the chickens themselves? And who can honestly tell me that they, too, saved for University by going to the sale barn with Dad and sister and picking out 2 beautiful calves to nurture and feed (somewhat begrudgingly) after school every day, all winter, only to be rewarded with a large deposit to one's savings fund come springtime? I can say those things, because I did them. But they didn't convince me that I should be a farmer.

Nor did living in Guelph. Nope. Even though Guelph just so happens to be [I'm pretty sure] the Aggie capital of Ontario (a claim evidenced by the fact that not too many people who haven't lived in Guelph even know when an Aggie is), and a haven for crazy organic hippies, raw foodies, and various breeds of your typical down-home cattle or hog farmer types, I still don't think that it was living there that did it to me. Of course, if I hadn't lived in Guelph, I may never have joined my first CSA, at Ignatius Farm. I may never have been exposed to the raw or local food movements. I might never have realized how much, in addition to cooking delicious meals, I also love cooking healthy, sustainable meals for myself and my loved one[s] to enjoy. And how much I need to be surrounded by good people who I love and care about, who love and care about me. And how much I want those people to be happy and healthy, and to have a world to live in 50 years from now that still remotely resembles the beautiful (though flawed) world we've still got now. 

Guelph sunrise.

In Guelph, at some point I realized that I wasn't just a closet environmentalist who enjoyed gardening in her spare time. I realized that my beliefs could become a way of life. In fact, they could be a guiding principal in my life. In fact-- in fact!-- they should guide my life. 

I suppose the moment I knew for sure came some time last summer, after I moved home to the farm for a summer of gardening and enjoying the peace and stillness that can be found there. But what made me decide to make that move? What or who is responsible for me quitting my job, breaking up with my boyfriend, moving home, and gardening for the summer?

Not my parents, though they made it possible. Not my ex-boyfriend, who was and is never anything but supportive and caring. And even though my Grandpa, with his intense desire to examine life, see the good in everyone and find joy in everything, has influenced me to want to do the same, I don't give him credit for my current state of mind. Nor do I credit my grandmother, though I will admit she is probably the influence behind my plastic-bag-saving, composting, reduce-reuse-recycling ways. Nope, none of these people or places or things has brought me here all on their own. 

So, was it realizing that I needed purpose? That I couldn't just live heedlessly in the moment-- that I had to live right now with passion, and consciousness, and integrity? Was it yoga? Meditation? Was it learning my body, and finally seeing my place in the order of things? Was it finally understanding that I am just "a functioning cog in some great machinery serving something beyond me?" And that this is actually a blessed thing to be?

That something that I am serving- this Earth, our Universe- is wonderful and beautiful, and the knowledge that I can, in my actions, make it more so is simultaneously humbling and inspiring. 

And it is worth working for.  

I've never really known something like this, so strongly. I've never been so driven to do something as I am driven to work toward retrieving the land from the jaws of the beast. And by the beast, I mean the myth of plenty that we all believe in. The sad, lonely belief we all have, that if we keep working, keep striving, keep seeking to gain, somehow it will get us someplace better. It's that myth that keeps us guzzling oil-- because we are trying to get somewhere. But where? It's that myth that encourages farmers to grow the big crops-- Corn! Wheat! Rice! Empty calories!-- Instead of nutritious, delicious vegetables and grass for our cows to eat. If only we could see that we are already here. And that all this seeking is making us feel lost, when truly, we are already found. 

You are already that which you are seeking. As I type those words, a fearful shudder pulses through my chest, as though I am knowing something true, and it both heartens and terrifies me. It's true. I've decided that it is time for me to stop looking, and start being, in every moment. And what I care about is what I know for certain is sacred and valuable. The land. The Earth, and her systems and creatures and peoples and stories. 

That includes us. You and me. We owe it to ourselves to take care of our home, and each other.

I come from a lot of places, a lot of people, and a lot of ideas. I've been influenced in a lot of ways, not least of all by my family, my upbringing, and my friends. There isn't a single person or moment that is responsible for the me that I am right now. Just like everyone, I am a convergence of ideas and traits that have fatefully gathered in one being, and I think that is a miracle, that I am a miracle as is everyone and everything else in existence. I intend to do that miracle justice. I intend to use my actions to demonstrate my beliefs and give glory to creation. What a glorious creation we have inherited. 

And that, my friends, is why I want to be a farmer. 

Wow, didn't see that one coming, did ya?

~

post script:

Several months ago, at the beginning of the summer, I read a book on meditation that told me to come up with a mantra from my own religion-- something familiar that was inspiring and easy to remember. I chose the Prayer of St. Francis of Assisi. I am not a Christian or a Catholic, but felt attracted to St. Francis for some strange reason, and I did grow up in a Christian church. I read a little bit about him at the time, and then thought no more of it, even as I said his prayer repeatedly. Daily. 

Just now, I googled that quote, "You are already that which you are seeking," to find out who said it first. Guess who? St. Francis of Assisi. 

Oh, but it gets better. Click on the link above, and you'll see a picture of a statue of the saint, just like this one, that I admired in the garden of our apartment of Liverpool St, for 2 years, without ever knowing who it was.

The patron saint of animals and ecology. Nice hat, Frank.

How is that for synchronicity?

Getting Fresh

What's your definition of fresh?

Is it a juicy piece of fruit, straight from the grocery aisle? Organic and vaccuum-packed so as not to allow any germs to attack?  A submarine sandwich, made with ingredients that have been trucked half way across the continent, which were treated with chemicals to keep them from going bad and genetically modified not to rot as quickly? Maybe the veggies are crunchy, but I am not sure that they would fit everyone's definition of fresh-- or at least not the connotations of health they are trying to create!

Is fresh more of a personal concept to you? Something you've harvested yourself? Perhaps some milk straight from the cow, or a strawberry straight from the vine? Maybe somebody getting a little too liberal with their efforts to spark your romantic interest?

I tend to think of any of my veggies that have not been frozen, processed, or preserved in any way as "fresh." And I'm pretty proud to say I am still eating fresh, home-grown veggies from my garden. That's right-- and you thought the growing/ bragging season was well over!

Well, to be honest, it is (as much as it ever is... I've still got sprouts going year round and kombucha brewing in the den, and someday I want to have greens in every window, all winter long! But I digress). But the fact that we are still in the depths of winter doesn't stop me from enjoying 3 month old winter squash and parsnips that are still kickin'! You may remember these fellas as the subject of another post from a few months ago. Well, this is my last squash. And save for a little soft spot near the top, he's still as fresh to me! The parsnips are still quite crisp, and very sweet. So I went hunting and found a yummy recipe that incorporates these two vegetables plus some of the barley I've had kicking around for a while in a delicious soup. Don't be fooled by its rather mundane appearance-- this soup is f%*ing delicious.

Root and Barley Soup

Usually I get carried away and tweak most recipes quite a bit, to suit my tastes. But this time, I was fairly faithful to the version of the recipe that appears in Ripe from Around Here by jae steele (check out her killer blog!). I actually went to the work of going to the store and buying produce, something I haven't done often this winter. The only thing I changed was that I did not use miso paste, but instead added a little extra of the other salty ingredients-- salt (duh!) and soya sauce. I did intend to buy some miso but decided that someone who is about to reduce their income by 3/4 probably shouldn't be spending $9 on a single ingredient for a single recipe. However, if you can afford it, I would think that miso could only improve this recipe! Plus it's really good for you.

This is a basic soup recipe, which means it's fairly idiot-proof, but it's great for this time of year because most of the ingredients are winter-friendly (and those that aren't can be retrieved from the freezer or purchased frozen from a relatively local source, i.e. not purchased "fresh" and trucked up from California).

Here's what you need [these are my tweaks]:

3/4 cup pearl barley [pot barley]
7 cups vegetable stock [water & chicken boullion]
2 cups of peeled celery root [too pricy! omitted]
1 1/2 cups peeled & cubed winter squash
1 tsp sea salt
3 tbsp barley or rice miso [omitted, substituted extra  soy sauce, boullion]
2 tbsp olive oil
1 onion, diced
2 cups of diced parsnip (you could also use carrots)
3 1/2 cups of sliced or chopped mushrooms
1 cup green beans
2 tsp fresh marjoram [1 tsp dried]
2 tsp fresh thyme [1 tsp dried]
1/2 cup chopped fresh parsley [omitted- didn't miss it!]
1 tbsp tamari soy sauce [or to taste]
black pepper




First, cook the barley in water for about 15 minutes, then add cubed squash and celery root (if using). Cook until squash is fairly soft, adding water as needed (I didn't really follow the 7 cups of liquid part of the recipe... sorta just went with it, giving the soup what it needed!).

If you're using the miso, mix it into a 1/4 cup of stock and set aside.

Meanwhile, heat the oil in a frying pan and start to fry those onions. I don't know about you, but I find this to be one of the most pleasant scents known to humankind. Add thyme to that mixture, and you've got heaven on your hands. Oh, what a coincidence! Thyme is one of the upcoming ingredients!







Once the onions are soft, add the parsnips and cook for a few minutes. Then add the mushrooms and cook for a few minutes more. Then add the beans and the spices.









Then-- you guessed it!-- cook for a few more minutes after that.

Once the veggies seem cooked through, add this mixture to the squash/ barley pot. Add the miso, as much water as you need, and then you'll probably want to season with a little extra stock/ soy sauce, salt and pepper to taste. Also, as with most recipes, this is a good time to say to yourself, "hmm... what does this need?" Then, follow your instincts. If your instincts say, enjoy, well.... Enjoy!

Seeds

Have you ever stopped to think about seeds?

Seeds, to me, are a really poignant metaphor for the miracle of life. And calling them a metaphor is stretching it-- seeds actually contain life.  All a seed needs is a little moisture and a little warmth, and it can create a whole new being. Seeds carry all of the knowledge needed for an entire plant, tree, animal or person to grow for hundreds, even thousands of years. In one tiny little pod. And they can hold on to that knowledge for years, waiting for the moment to be right to rise up, and triumphantly fulfill their destinies! Seeds are like teeny little computer chips that hold immense amounts of information. They are the embodiment of the knowledge of the Earth.

Seeds might even just be the answer to all of the questions of the Universe.

But I don't really think there are any answers. Just more questions. The questions just beget questions, like the seeds beget more seeds, in a never-ending chain: an infinite pattern that we live within. This is the way the world works. Isn't it beautiful? Maybe we should show those seeds a little more respect.

Next time you are munching on a delicious seed, remember what you are consuming: the infinite knowledge of the Universe, contained in one cute little button-like package.

It's no wonder seeds are so good for you!


How to roast pumpkin or squash seeds perfectly:

1. Watch Rachael do it a million times and try to replicate her method from memory, but repeatedly burn them or season them wrong. 

2. Ask her how she does it. Try again. Fail again.

3. Ask her a second time, this time demanding very specific details, including oven temperature, timing, amounts of seasonings, etc. 

4. Thinly cover the bottom of an oven safe dish or pan with olive oil. Spread seeds in an even layer in the oil, and shake a bit of salt, pepper, and paprika over them to season (not too much!). Roast in an oven preheated to 350 for as long as it takes for the seeds to turn golden brown and become crunchy. Enjoy!

Living with Less

Gatineau Park, January 2012

I think most twenty-somethings go through a "get rid of all of my belongings" phase. For me, it started some time during University, around the time I realized that until you own a home, owning things meant moving things. It was easier, I reckoned, to live without things than to have to haul them around from place to place. Of course, there are necessities, not least of all my cooking paraphernalia, but I tried not to hang on to anything I wasn't strongly attached to. Every time I move, I try to pare it down a bit more, and I think I've really got it to a minimum. There's no point in tossing out things wastefully that I will later need.

These days, I'm inclined to think of things a bit differently. It's not about being okay with not having anything because I can't have anything, it's about being okay with having nothing because, in reality, the physical things don't really matter that much. The things I do have, I appreciate. A lot. And the things I don't have? Well, I probably don't need them. I don't want to need them. If I need them, then I need a means to get them, which means I need money. And money, my friends, is probably a thing I am not going to be blessed with in my life. Not if I can help it, anyway.

Community Garden mural at Bank and Laurier, Ottawa.

See, I tried living for things, for a while. I tried really hard. And it was fun there, at times. But I wasn't happy. And over time, I began to realize that what made me happy had nothing to do with acquiring belongings. It was the way I lived that brought me pleasure, joy, and contentment-- or not, as the case was, back then. It felt wrong to drive 20 km to work every day to a job I didn't love at a company that sells people things they don't really need (nothing against that particular company, though! All companies do that. That's how the system works). I didn't feel like I was connected to anything real. Except, that is, when I pulled out those seed catalogues, and those garden planning books, and starting soaking up knowledge about how to become self-sufficient. I didn't even do it consciously. I just wanted to have a garden because I like food and cooking and growing things. But in hindsight, I see the logic behind it all. If I don't have to buy food, then I don't have to have a job I don't love, and I can do what I love all day, if I want to. I can grow food.

Cozumel, Mexico

It's true, I'm a dreamer. I've always been an idealist. And for a really long time I thought that my dreams weren't realistic. Or that, if they were, I would never be happy if I really chased them, because I wouldn't have money and I would always be struggling to survive. But then this crazy thing happened.

I took a risk, and I tried it out. I lived with nothing. I grew food, and I spent a great deal of time alone, and I wandered around in the woods, and sang to myself, and I dug in the dirt, and laid on the grass in the rain, and finally-- finally!-- I felt real.

I've been living with very little for some time now. I would love to spend the money left over from each pay cheque on exotic foods, but I don't. I get just as much pleasure from digging out a 4 month old squash that I grew myself, and turning it into dinner. And I keep the money I save, to pay off my debts. And I feel a sense of satisfaction when I take a delicious bite of a potato, onion, carrot and kale stir fry seasoned with paprika and garlic, because most of those ingredients are items I grew myself.

Vanderwater Park, December 2011

When I'm done eating dinner, and I'm thinking about my day, I don't think about things I wish I had, or what I don't like about my job or the fact that I have to live in the city as a necessity of modern life. I think about how I love my life. I walk in the door when I get home from work and take pleasure in the smell that makes me feel home. I enjoy my roommates, so I hug them. And then we eat some of the zucchini chocolate cake I made, and talk about how water is like liquid diamonds [me], or like a miniature lake in your hands [Rachael]. I enjoy the little nest I have to sleep and dream in. I like winter, because of the way the sun falls on the snow, and the exhilaration of the cold, and the rosy cheeks, and the hot chocolate and the way that life slows down just enough that you can finally take time to appreciate it. I like living, because I'm friends with the world that I live in. Nobody's out to get me, and the world is not against me-- it's on my side. And if I play my cards right, the earth will give me everything I need to sustain myself.

I don't need money. At least, not much of it. If it weren't for the system we live in, I wouldn't need any at all. The less reliant on money I get, the better I feel. So I've decided it's time for another life experiment. Recently, I had to make a [self-imposed] choice between going West to make money, and heading East to learn how to be more self-sufficient. I chose the latter.

It was a long road, but it was a good one.
[ancient Mayan ruins]

In March, I'm going to head home to make maple syrup with my Dad. And in April, I'm going to drive to a permaculture farm in Nova Scotia and set up house in a tent trailer for the next 7 months. I'm going to live on vegetables, exercise, and love-- love for the earth, love for my fellow farmers, and love for the life that I've been given. I'm going to swim in the sea, slide on the mud flats, bike for miles, and spend day after day sweating and straining to make things grow.

And I am more certain about this about anything I have ever known before: I'm going to be happy. I am happy. I've finally made that choice.

Pumpkins Aren't Just for Pie!

First, a few things you may or may not know about pumpkins.

1. They are pretty much interchangeable with winter squash. Basically any recipe that requires squash can take pumpkin, and vice versa. Just be sure that the sugar content is accounted for. Generally, squash is sweeter, but there are many varieties of pumpkin that are bred for sweetness too.

2. Pumpkin is really good for you! It's orange colour is an indicator that it is full of beta-carotene. But in addition to that, it also contains significant amounts of Protein, Calcium, Magnesium, Potassium, Iron, Folate, and Vitamin E. Pumpkin seeds are also an extremely healthy snack, full of those important Omega 3 fatty acids (the only kind your body can't make itself).

3. When kept cool and dry, pumpkins and squash won't rot for months, and can be used for most of the winter. This is a really great way to make use of your summer harvest all winter long. Last year, I sliced open some delicata squash from my CSA share which I had forgotten in the drawer of the fridge until some time in mid-March, and they were still good!

4. Pumpkin and squash flowers are edible-- and pretty tasty! A lot of people recommend stuffing them with cheese and other fancy stuff, but I think they are delicious all on their own too. Okay, so it's the wrong time of year to tell you this, but this summer you should try it out, especially if you are growing your own-- they can be pricey at the farmer's market. The trick is to make sure you are only harvesting the male blossoms, since the female are the ones that bear fruit. You'll be able to tell the difference because you can already see the little fruit starting to form at the bottom of the female blossoms. Make sure to leave a male blossom or two on each plant so they can pollinate the females!

But isn't pumpkin only good for pie?


Umm... short answer? No! Pumpkin is delicious, not only in all sorts of baking, but also on its own, enjoyed baked like squash and then mashed, mixed in with other veggies, or even mixed into something fancy, like a Pumpkin Souffle!

Here are a few recipes that I've tried.

Pumpkin Soup

You can go in a lot of different directions with this one-- don't be fooled into thinking that seasoning pumpkin with cinnamon, nutmeg, and cloves is the only way to go! I have had some delicious Coconut Pumpkin Soup made with coconut milk and fresh cilantro, for example. In the fall, it's also nice to use apples and your typical pumpkin pie spices for a sweeter soup. Basically, anything that can be cooked down and blended up with the pumpkin is a good candidate. Why not try an experiment?

Pumpkin Pie

I swear to god I took this photo myself! I was making pie for a dinner party and decided to do the lattice on a whim. It's actually a LOT of fun. The key to lattice is to make the strips really big, so you don't have to do that many. Start by laying the first two perpendicular pieces, and then alternate between adding horizontal and vertical strips, pulling the previously placed strips back as you go so you can create the weave pattern.

Anyway, pumpkin pie is pretty much self-explanatory and delicious, so even though this post is about doing something different, don't deny yourself this traditional treat!


Vegan Pumpkin Cheesecake

While it certainly isn't what one expects when they think of cheesecake, this delicious creation really got me excited about what can be done with pumpkin. There is actually no flour in the "cheesecake" part-- just ground almonds, which make for a unique flavour and nutty texture. I also substituted any sugar for maple syrup and honey, and the graham cracker crust could easily be substituted for a gluten free crust, making it a deliciously healthy vegan dessert!

I found the foundation of the recipe in a wonderful cookbook called Ripe From Around Here by Jae Steele.

Pumpkin Muffins


These are fairly self-explanatory, like the pie. Make muffins, and add pumpkin! You can alter your favourite recipe, or look one up. There's one in my fave cookbook, Simply in Season, as well as all over the internets!


Pumpkin Souffle
(In this case, it's Pumpkin and Blue Cheese Souffle with Cayenne Pepper)

This was my latest experiment. It went reasonably well, if you consider the fact that a) I have never made  souffle before, let alone a pumpkin one! and b) in my current living situation, I do not have the use of an electric mixer-- so I had to whisk by hand.

A souffle is essentially a puffy egg and cheese dish. It's very light, and not very filling, but is pretty versatile, so you can add lots of delicious things to it to make lots of seemingly fancy dishes with one basic recipe.

To make a souffle:

- Take a bunch of eggs and separate the yolks from the whites (if you don't know how to do this, google it)
- Make a roux (melt butter and add an equal amount of flour, whisk smooth).
- Add milk, and heat til thickened, about 5 minutes.
- Add cheese, the egg yolks and anything else you want.
- In a separate bowl with cold utensils, beat egg whites until they form stiff peaks.
- Fold egg whites into white sauce mixture and bake for 30 to 45 minutes until puffy and set.

Obviously the number of eggs you want to use effects the other ingredients, so you'll need to find appropriate recipe for the number of people you are feeding!

For the pumpkin souffle, I had to find a recipe for a basic souffle to make sure I had all the basics down pat. Then, I found a recipe for a savoury squash souffle which was right up my alley, so I altered the ingredients to fit the number of eggs I wanted to use, and went for it.

During the step where you add the cheese and egg yolks, I also added cayenne, nutmeg, salt, and pumpkin. The result was delicious, if I do say so myself-- definitely a recipe I will re-try in the presence of company. But I used a bit more pumpkin than necessary. A word to the wise: a little goes a long way!