'Twas the Season

...to take a break from the routine of daily life, emerge from our piles of books and everyday meals, and celebrate the advent of our Savior, Jesus Christ, and the life that he gives us. Though we began our advent celebration four weeks before Christmas by reading, singing, meditating, and discussing the Promise fulfilled, we didn't break for our physical preparation and celebration until a week before Christmas.

Tayta digging out the wall

Our first day of Christmas break, a day which should have found me baking and wrapping presents, I declared a field trip to the nearby Jordan Valley; I was unable to pass up the amazing opportunity to join real archaeologists as they excavated the largest Middle Bronze Age fortification discovered (five meters thick!) at a site they believe to be the Biblical Sodom. Eschewing the baking in favor of the dig turned out to be one of the best decisions I've made in a long time; this was a wonderful experience which I hope to write more about someday soon.


We nervously watched the US weather situation turn from bad to worse, grounding our beloved Oldest Daughter for three extra days and we rejoiced upon her return. So nice has it been to have her helping me in the kitchen or just sitting and debriefing her semester over a cup of coffee.

Tayta and Artist Son undertook their annual creative building project. My sole contribution was finding the rainbow Twizzlers at the supermarket.

2009 Rainbow Gingerbread House

We feasted on festive food,

and enjoyed the company of good friends whom we just don't see enough of during the year.

We laughed heartily as our grown-up sons (and friends) got down and shook it up.

We delighted in a traditional New Year's jaunt through one of Jordan's remaining pine forests

and, the first wildflower sighting of the new year.

The sublime Cyclamen persicum

And now our noses are back in the books, I am shunning sugar, and Active Son and I are striving to get those college applications and essays finished this weekend; and all that with a bad head cold. The celebration was grand while it lasted.

Thankfully, Emmanuel, God with us, is a reality we can celebrate all the year long.

When life gives you lemons...

...preserve them. Fresh lemon is one of my favorite cooking and baking ingredients so when I saw mention of preserved lemons in one of my Middle Eastern cookbooks I  knew I needed to try preserving them myself. Preserved lemons are part of the Moroccan culinary tradition, which would technically make them North African rather than Middle Eastern, but their flavor is distinctly Mediterranean. Think lemon olives. After reviewing a few recipes I came up with the recipe below and it worked perfectly.

Preserved Lemons

10 lemons, thin skinned works best
1 1/2 cups rock salt (I use coarse sea salt)
1 litre boiling water
juice of one lemon
8 cardamom pods
a few pieces of cinnamon bark
about 12 peppercorns
2 red chilies
2 bay leaves
olive oil

-Soak the lemons in water for three days, changing the water daily.
- Make deep cuts in the lemons, dividing them into quarters but not separating them completely. You can see how I've cut my lemons (sort of) in the picture above.
-Pack the cut lemons generously with salt and arrange in a glass jar.
-Add the cardamon pods, chilies, and bay leaves. I sliced my red chilies and distributed them around the lemons. These are optional and depending on how large/small and hot your chilies are you may want to use more or less--or none at all. I found other recipes that didn't include cardamom so you could leave that out if you don't have access to it.
-Pour the boiling water, lemon juice, and any extra salt over the prepared lemons Top it off with a thin layer of olive oil. If one liter isn't enough water to cover your lemons, add enough to just cover. If you add much more, add more lemon juice too.
-The lemons will be ready to use after one month.

These are really very easy to make and add a deliciously intense lemon flavor to cooked dishes. I'll soon post our new-favorite-fish recipe which includes preserved lemons, so start a jar of these today. They look very pretty in the kitchen, besides.

Very good news for book lovers in Jordan and beyond

I'm not sure how I, bibliophile, internet purchaser of books extraordinaire, and contriver of plans to get books to Jordan at a reasonable cost, missed this site and their incredible offer:

Free delivery worldwide on all our books

When a friend told me about this site yesterday I thought it couldn't be true, yet I rushed home, checked it out and placed my first order of two books. Even my husband, who sometimes cringes at the amount of books I've accumulated--on behalf of our family, of course--received this news with gladness as the amount of money we've spent on shipping books over the years could probably make a nice down payment on a little house--only a slight exaggeration.

The Book Depository has been in business since 2004 and stocks over two million titles--many of the books I searched for were available, and often at Amazon-comparable prices. And speaking of Amazon, I love, love, love their service and feel slightly guilty at even the thought of diverting my book buying business elsewhere but free delivery is a seriously good offer that I can't pass up when the next cheapest shipping option is $10 a pound--that, or trying to bum a ride for a few books with friends or even friends of friends who are traveling to Jordan.

Seriously good offer, seriously good news.

Longing for Home

Even before reading Oldest Daughter's plaintive and pitiable Facebook status yesterday morning-- "no inclement weather, please. i want to go home."--I had noticed a status trend developing over the past couple of weeks:

I can't wait to go home!
One more final and I'm home
3 more days!

From Odysseus striving towards Ithaca, to the Israelites wandering in exile, to the throngs of college students flooding airports, man longs to return home. Or, like Abram and Aeneas, he searches to find home.

As I reflected on the meaning of home, my thoughts dancing back and forth between the physical and the metaphysical ideas of home, distinct yet intertwined, I considered that the meanings were inseparable . The hope of home is a theme woven throughout the Biblical narrative; it is also one of the sublime themes God writes on the hearts of all men, a theme that is woven into the narratives of our lives. Perhaps this is something of what the author of Ecclesiastes meant when he said that God has put eternity into the heart of man.

But, what is this hope of home, this longing for a place where we will find familiarity, completion, acceptance, rest? G.K. Chesterton says it beautifully in the last stanza of his poem The Christmas House:

To an open house in the evening Home shall men come,
To an older place than Eden And a taller town than Rome.
To the end of the way of the wandering star,
To the things that cannot be and that are,
To the place where God was homeless
And all men are at home.

In his book, Prodigal God, Tim Keller writes about home, "The houses we inhabit are only inns along the way."

Jesus is the homeland, the home, the rest. The Incarnation, God come into his created world makes it possible for us to come home.

A Healthier Artisan Bread

Below is my recent modification of the Artisan Bread recipe and method I wrote about here. Since I've become comfortable with the original recipe I thought it time to do a little experimenting in an effort to produce a healthier loaf of bread. This is what I've come up with so far:

A Healthier Artisan Bread
(following the method here)

3 T sea salt
3 T yeast
5 cups all-purpose flour
6 cups whole wheat flour
1 cup oats
1/2 cup wheat germ
1/2 cup cracked wheat
1/3 cup ground flax seed
1/4 cup millet
6 1/2-7 cups warm water

Mint Fudge

Simplicity is a key objective in our Christmas kitchen this year and this recipe for mint fudge, from my dear friend, Linda, is helping us attain that goal while still enjoying some festive and celebratory treats.

~Mint Fudge~

250 g. semi sweet chocolate (1 bag of semi-sweet chocolate chips is 300 g. so we just used the whole bag)
2/3 can sweetened condensed milk
83 g. white chocolate (1/3 of the amount of semi-sweet chocolate)
1/3 can sweetened condensed milk
1 tsp. mint extract
couple/few drops green food coloring

1. Prepare an 8x8" square pan by lining it with waxed paper.

2. Melt the semi-sweet chocolate in a double boiler (ours, makeshift, is a pyrex bowl resting in a saucepan, but not touching the bottom) and add 2/3 can sweetened condensed milk. Spread this mixture in the prepared pan. Refrigerate while you prepare the mint layer.

3. Melt the white chocolate and add the remaining 1/3 can sweetened condensed milk, mint extract, and food coloring. Spread this mixture over the cooled fudge layer and cool. When cool and firm, cut. Makes 36 pieces.

And if you are fortunate enough to have a baking daughter like Tayta, making this fudge is as simple as saying, "Please."

I'll Be Home for Christmas

The House of Christmas

G.K Chesterton

There fared a mother driven forth
Out of an inn to roam;
In the place where she was homeless
All men are at home.
The crazy stable close at hand,
With shaking timber and shifting sand,
Grew a stronger thing to abide and stand
Than the square stones of Rome.

For men are homesick in their homes,
And strangers under the sun,
And they lay on their heads in a foreign land
Whenever the day is done.
Here we have battle and blazing eyes,
And chance and honour and high surprise,
But our homes are under miraculous skies
Where the yule tale was begun.

A Child in a foul stable,
Where the beasts feed and foam;
Only where He was homeless
Are you and I at home;
We have hands that fashion and heads that know,
But our hearts we lost - how long ago!
In a place no chart nor ship can show
Under the sky's dome.

This world is wild as an old wives' tale,
And strange the plain things are,
The earth is enough and the air is enough
For our wonder and our war;
But our rest is as far as the fire-drake swings
And our peace is put in impossible things
Where clashed and thundered unthinkable wings
Round an incredible star.

To an open house in the evening
Home shall men come,
To an older place than Eden
And a taller town than Rome.
To the end of the way of the wandering star,
To the things that cannot be and that are,
To the place where God was homeless
And all men are at home.

~Let every heart prepare him room~

Homecoming

" Little Adele was half wild with delight when she saw me. Mrs. Fairfax received me with her usual plain friendliness. Leah smiled; and even Sophie bid me 'bon soir' with glee. This was very pleasant: there is no happiness like that of being loved by your fellow-creatures, and feeling that your presence is an addition to their comfort."

~Jane Eyre

Dear Oldest Daughter, how we look forward to your soon-to-be-with-us presence; it will certainly be an addition to our comfort.

Taking a Break

It's been a full semester so far: two high school science classes, a junior high writing class, a high school Great Books class, and college applications and essays for Active Son; we were ready for a break. So, the day after hosting a Thanksgiving dinner for many friends we packed up the car and headed south to rest on the beach for a couple days.

It was still warm enough to do a little snorkeling
(at least for the guys)

Artist Son skipping rocks in the Red Sea

Relaxed!

Turkey once, turkey twice, cooking turkey soup with rice

As our post-Thanksgiving pot of turkey soup simmers on the stove, I'm thinking that I should have posted this favorite recipe before Thanksgiving, giving anyone who doesn't already save their turkey carcass a heads up to do so; though you can make an equally delicious soup using chicken. So beloved is Turkey Carcass Soup-perhaps I should consider modifying the name- at our house, that everyone will willingly give up a round of turkey leftovers if they know that turkey will be used for soup.

This is the most used and best loved recipe from my Jane Broody Good Food Book, which I acquired in the first years of married life. My "adjusted" version:

Turkey Carcass Soup

~A good soup begins with a good stock~

Stock
1 large turkey carcass, broken into pieces (today I'm suing two smaller carcasses
water to cover the carcass ( I use 35-40 cups, approximately)
4 onions coarsely chopped
a few ribs of celery with leaves, if available
4 carrots, chopped
1 large turnip, chopped
5 cloves garlic
salt (a put a couple of tablespoons in now but you can add more later when you make the soup.)
4 bay leaves
a handful of fresh parsley (or some dry)
2 tsp dried thyme

Combine all the ingredients in a large pot, bring to a boil, and simmer it for 2 to 3 hours. When stock is ready, strain it--I use a mesh sieve. Remove any remaining turkey from the bones before discarding them.

Soup
1 cup minced onion
6 cloves minced garlic
1/3 cup butter
6 cups diced carrots
3 cups diced celery
3 cups finely chopped mushrooms
1/2 cup flour
36-42 cups stock
2 Tbsp sage
2 cups brown uncooked brown rice
6 cups diced turkey meat
1/2-2/3 cup chopped parsley
salt and pepper to taste

(I use my food processor to chop/mince all the vegetables but the celery, which I chop by hand.)

1. In a large stockpot, saute the onion and garlic in butter until soft.
2. Add carrots, celery, and mushrooms; cook the vegetables, stirring them, 3 to 5 minutes longer.
3. Add the flour, and cook the mixture, stirring it, for another minute.
4. Add the stock, sage, and brown rice. Bring the soup to a boil, then reduce the heat and simmer the soup for about an hour.
5. Add the turkey meat, salt and pepper, adjusting seasonings. I sometimes add a few shakes of hot pepper sauce instead of black pepper.
6. Sprinkle the soup with parsley just before serving.

As you can surmise from the quantities of the ingredients, this makes a very large pot of soup. You could halve or even quarter my recipe. Tonight we will enjoy this pot with friends and I will store some in the freezer for our traditional Christmas Eve supper. And, there may still be enough for another meal...

Behold the Lamb of God~A Soundtrack for Advent

Last year I discovered the wonderful Christmas musical/album, Behold the Lamb of God, by Andrew Peterson (I'm pretty sure the hat tip for this discovery goes to Justin Taylor, whose blog provides me with more great resources and links than I could ever exhaust) and I have just begun listening to it again in preparation for the celebration of the advent of Christ. A gifted musician, Peterson is also a gifted theologian, who begins the Wonderful Story as it should begin: in the days of the patriarchs and prophets. He says:

What makes this bunch of songs unique is that I wanted to remind (or teach) the audience that the story of Christmas doesn’t begin with the birth of Jesus. Many people tend to forget or have never even learned that the entire Bible is about Jesus, not just the New Testament.

So the musical begins with Moses and the symbolic story of the Passover (Passover Us) and works its way through the kings and the prophets with their many prophecies about the coming Messiah (So Long, Moses) to the awful four hundred years of silence before God told Mary she’d be having a baby (Deliver Us). After the song called Matthew’s Begats, which lists the genealogy of Jesus, the story picks up in more familiar territory with Mary and Joseph and the actual birth (It Came To Pass, Labor of Love). The final song is called Behold, the Lamb of God, which ties together the Passover and the beauty and scope of the story.

You can listen to samples of the different tracks via the widget above and you can enjoy the third track, So Long Moses, in the YouTube video. And note, the widget links you to the recently released 10th Anniversary album which contains all the recorded tracks and all tracks, live.



***Edit*** You can sample the whole album, with lyrics here
(HT Justin Taylor, of course)

Awesomely Humble

Or is that humbly awesome? This post is dedicated to Active Son and all my senior-in-high-school friends who have labored or continue to labor over their college admission essays, seeking to distinguish themselves from the masses, while remaining winsomely humble--yet confident--in the process. No small feat for a 17 or 18 year old who is still in the process of discovering who they are. Below is a "college entrance essay" which made the email rounds back in the nineties. I enjoyed the authors satire so thoroughly that printed it off and have saved it for the past ten plus years. I dusted it off again a couple of weeks ago for Active Son, yet working on his essays, to enjoy.

It is now, of course, on the internet, with the information that while the author, Hugh Gallagher, was admitted to and graduated from NYU (1994), this was not his college entrance essay, but rather an essay he submitted to a writing contest in 1990. It won first prize in the humor category. And, the author is now a free-lance writer--no surprises there.

I am a dynamic figure, often seen scaling walls and crushing ice. I have been known to remodel train stations on my lunch breaks, making them more efficient in the area of heat retention. I translate ethnic slurs for Cuban refugees, I write award-winning operas, I manage time efficiently.

Occasionally, I tread water for three days in a row. I woo women with my sensuous and godlike trombone playing, I can pilot bicycles up severe inclines with unflagging speed, and I cook Thirty-Minute Brownies in twenty minutes. I am an expert in stucco, a veteran in love, and an outlaw in Peru.

Using only a hoe and a large glass of water, I once single-handedly defended a small village in the Amazon Basin from a horde of ferocious army ants. I play bluegrass cello, I was scouted by the Mets, I am the subject of numerous documentaries. When I'm bored, I build large suspension bridges in my yard. I enjoy urban hang gliding. On Wednesdays, after school, I repair electrical appliances free of charge.

I am an abstract artist, a concrete analyst, and a ruthless bookie. Critics worldwide swoon over my original line of corduroy evening wear. I don't perspire. I am a private citizen, yet I receive fan mail. I have been caller number nine and have won the weekend passes. Last summer I toured New Jersey with a traveling centrifugal-force demonstration. I bat 400.

My deft floral arrangements have earned me fame in international botany circles. Children trust me. I can hurl tennis rackets at small moving objects with deadly accuracy. I once read Paradise Lost, Moby Dick, and David Copperfield in one day and still had time to refurbish an entire dining room that evening. I know the exact location of every food item in the supermarket. I have performed several covert operations with the CIA.

I sleep once a week; when I do sleep, I sleep in a chair. While on vacation in Canada, I successfully negotiated with a group of terrorists who had seized a small bakery. I balance, I weave, I dodge, I frolic, and my bills are all paid.

On weekends, to let off steam, I participate in full-contact origami. Years ago I discovered the meaning of life but forgot to write it down. I have made extraordinary four course meals using only a mouli and a toaster oven. I breed prize-winning clams. I have won bullfights in San Juan, cliff-diving competitions in Sri Lanka, and spelling bees at the Kremlin.

I have played Hamlet, I have performed open-heart surgery, and I have spoken with Elvis.

But I have not yet gone to college.

I think he gets it just right.

Recipes for a Pie-making Protege

Three Thanksgivings ago I coached oldest daughter to her first made-it-completely-by-herself pie; she is a quick study.


And two years ago, she baked all the our traditional pies single handed:

Sweet Potato Pie, Pecan Pie, and Apple Pie

This Thanksgiving she finds her far from home, staying on campus over the holiday, and invited to her violin teacher's home for Thanksgiving dinner; so, she thinks she may make a pie for her friends. Here are recipes you requested, Oldest Daughter, and we'll be thinking of you as we make the same pies half a world away.

You'll find the pie crust recipe here: Canola Oil Pie Crust

Sweet Potato -or- Pumpkin Pie Filling~

1 16 oz can pumpkin pack or 2 cups mashed sweet potatoes
1 14 oz can sweetened condensed milk (NOT evaporated milk)
2 eggs
1 tsp ground cinnamon*
1/2 tsp ground ginger*
1/2 tsp ground nutmeg*
1/2 tsp salt
* use 2 tsp of the spice mix I sent you

Preheat oven to 425 degrees F. In a mixing bowl, combine all ingredients and mix well. Pour into a prepared pie crust. Bake 15 minutes. Reduce oven temperature to 350 degrees F and continue baking 35-40 minutes or until knife inserted 1 inch from the edge comes out clean.

Apple Pie with Crumb Topping~

6-8 large Granny Smith apples (about 10 cups)
3/4-1 cup sugar
1/2 tsp salt
1 tsp cinnamon*
1/2 tsp nutmeg*
1 1/2 Tbsp flour
*Hmm, even though it has ginger, you could try using the pumpkin pie spices I sent--2 tsp for one pie

Preheat oven to 425 degrees F. Peel, core, and thinkly slice the apples. Toss them in the sugar/spice/salt mixture, coating them well. Pile them into a prepared pie crust. Top with crumb topping and place in the oven. Bake 10 minutes, then lower the heat to 350 degrees F and bake about 40 minutes longer--or until the apples are tender when pierced with a fork.

Hint: Place pie on a baking/cookie sheet before placing in the oven in case bubbling apple goodness spills over from the pie pan.

Crumb Topping

1/2 cup brown sugar
1 cup flour
1/4 pound (1/2 cup) butter, chilled

Mix the sugar and flour until blended. Rub the butter into the flour mixture with your fingers until the mixture resembles coarse bread crumbs.

And a Soundtrack I Wish I Were Hearing Live...

Oldest Daughter's string quartet will play Mozart's String Quartet No. 15 in D Minor, K. 421, I. Allegro in Oberlin Conservatory's Honors Recital this evening and I'm feeling a little mopey as all I have to listen to is the YouTube recording of someone else playing.



Oldest Daughter is also spending lots of time--much more time than she'd like--in the orchestra pit as Oberlin's voice department presents its annual opera performance. I've gathered that "opera duty", required once or twice during the undergraduate years, is somewhat like a musical jury duty. This being Oldest Daughter's second stint of opera duty in two years, she will be exempted from this obligation her final two years.

Soundtrack for a Senior Year

This is a qualified apologia for not allowing children to quit music lessons, particularly if they show any hint of musical ability. Active Son would have quit playing piano several times over if we had let him, but mean old parents that we are, we didn't. (I told him that if he could produce even one adult that said they were glad their mom let them quit piano then maybe, just maybe I would listen to his pleas to quit. He never did find one.) It gets worse. We made him sit for piano exams, endure a theory course, and "pushed" him to play for people. I guess our strategy could have back-fired, but knowing this particular son as we did, we sensed that it wouldn't.

Our long term goal was never to produce a concert pianist or the like, but to give Active Son a gift, albeit a gift for which he would have to work diligently, that he could enjoy throughout his life, and in turn, a gift that he could give to others.

The two YouTube recordings are pieces that Active Son is working on for his senior recital--he isn't the musician in these videos; he says he still has lots of work to do but I think the pieces are sounding pretty good. Good enough to inspire me to write this apologia and good enough for Artist Son to break into spontaneous applause when Active Son finished practicing the Rondo Capriccioso this afternoon.





But what makes my heart sing (and my heart sings much better than my voice) more than hearing Active Son play these beautiful pieces is watching him enjoy playing the piano and keyboard with other musicians in their youth band and to hear him tell his older sister that he is looking forward to jamming with her and his brother when she is home for Christmas.

Best (Easy) Appetizer Ever~Garlic Feta Spread

It's not fancy but it's good. I know it's good because every time I make it people ask for the recipe. I took it to a party tonight and four people asked me for the recipe. I only take credit for recognizing a great recipe when I see one.

There are various online recipes for this great spread; here is how I make it:

Garlic Feta Spread

8 oz (225 g) feta cheese
8 oz (225 g) cream cheese
1 scant cup sour cream
approximately 3 cloves garlic, minced (depends on how spicy you like it and how big your cloves are)
1/2 tsp. dried dill
1/2 tsp. dried basil
1/2 tsp. dried thyme
1/2 tsp. dried oregano

Combine all ingredients in a bowl and cream together. I use a whisk to break up the feta chunks. Tonight I piped it onto small crackers using a icing bag/decorating tip but usually I just spread it on crackers and serve. Delicious, and so easy.

Jerusalem Doors~The Garden Tomb

The Garden Tomb site, located a few blocks from Damascus Gate, is the more contemporary Protestant alternative to the Church of the Holy Sepulcher as the location where Jesus was buried and resurrected on the third day.

Door to the Garden

From a Brief History on the Garden Tomb website: "As early as 1842 a German Theologian named Otto Thenius proposed the idea that the outcropping of rock known today as "Skull Hill" could possibly be significant in the identification of the site of the crucifixion." This site is now a bus station, with the walled garden backing up against it.

In 1867, an ancient Jewish tomb was discovered near Skull Hill, adding to the speculation that this was the location of Jesus' crucifixion, burial, and resurrection. Furthermore, a cistern and wine press discovered near the tomb seemed to indicate that the tomb was located in the garden of a wealthy Jew--Joseph of Arimathea perhaps? Perhaps. But even the articulate, Christian guides working in the garden are careful to note that no one really knows if this is the tomb of Jesus.

Doorway of a (the?) tomb

A Quilt as Metaphor

Just before heading back to school this fall, Oldest Daughter casually mentioned that she needed another blanket for her dorm bed this winter. And I casually responded that I would make her a quilt, reminded that I had intended to make her a quilt of recycled denim when she went off to college, but somehow never did. I planned to make this quilt and send it with a dear friend who was traveling to the States the first week of October.

The next couple of weeks found me working purposefully and unrelentingly on this quilt; though I used to sew frequently, I hadn't worked on a sewing project in years, many years. I had a small stash of recyclable denim but needed more, so for a couple of weeks rose early on Friday morning and headed to Amman's used clothing market to hunt for just the right jeans. Besides traditional blue I found pink (two identical pairs!) and turquoise jeans. The purple fabric is from a men's cotton shirt.

Sometime around the second week of working on this quilt, en route for the second time to the used clothing market, I realized that my crafting of this quilt had gone beyond enjoying-a-new-creative-outlet to near-obsession level. What was up with this?? Once I began thinking about it it didn't take me long to realize that this quilt was a metaphor for my mother love for Oldest Daughter, a surrounding, protecting love, and a love still being perfected and righted by a gracious and loving Heavenly Father.

And here is a glimpse into God's beautiful providence: soon after Oldest Daughter arrived back on campus, pressures came to bear on her that caused my mother's heart to ache. I was challenged by the irony of the word "mother" being contained in the word "smother" as God gently, though painfully began working on my smother love, refining it into a more fitting mother love. (With three more children to send off into the world, something tells me God will have more refining to do in the future.)


I stitched and prayed, stitched and prayed, thanking God for his loving care of me, giving this quilting project as a gift to me so that I could give Oldest Daughter a tangible gift of my mother love at this particular time, reminding her that she is ever surrounded by my love and prayers, and for his loving care of Oldest Daughter, strengthening her in all Truth to bear the pressures that had come her way.

Spiced Fish

Other than canned tuna, we endured an approximately 16 year period of fish-less fare, the main exception being grilled salmon when we visited the States every other summer. It's not that we didn't like fish; in the days of meager imports, the Jordanian market just did not offer economical, easy to obtain, easy to prepare fish options. Thankfully, the times have changed and now we are enjoying a meal of white fish fillets (only a humongous scientific name on the package, which none of us can pronounce) about once a week. Indeed, fish is now less expensive than chicken or beef in the Jordanian market!

Below is my favorite fish recipe. It's not my quickest, easiest fish recipe to prepare--I hope to share a couple of those recipes later--but I think it is the most delicious. And, it makes a beautifully colorful company dish as well. I've tweaked my recipe from



Women's Weekly Middle Eastern Cooking School Class

to make a company size portion so you can halve it for a smaller family or enjoy the leftovers for lunch. I serve it with quinoa (when I have it) but it can also be served with couscous or rice.

Spiced Fish with Chickpeas

2 kilos or 4 to 4 1/2 lbs white fish fillets
7 tsp. ground turmeric
7 tsp. ground cumin
5 tsp. ground cardamon
3 tsp. sea salt
canola oil
About 3-4 cups vegetable stock
3 cans chickpeas, rinsed and drained
4 sliced red and green bell peppers
1/2 cup chopped fresh cilantro/coriander leaves
1/4 cup fresh lemon juice

1. Combine the spices and salt in a dish and coat the fish with the mixture.

2. Heat some oil in a large pan--rather than a skillet, I use my large teflon-coated cooking pot. I begin with about 1/4 to 1/3 cup oil(a lot less than I thought I'd need to fry fish) but have to add a bit more as I continue to fry the fish. Add the fish, cooking until browned on both sides and tender.

3. Remove fish from the pan and keep warm--I put it in a baking dish in a warm oven.

4. Discard any leftover oil and wipe out pan.

5. Add stock, chickpeas, peppers, coriander, and lemon juice to the pan, simmer, covered about 10 minutes or until peppers are soft.

6. Serve fish on a bed of quinoa (my pick), couscous, or rice with the chickpea mixture. Garnish with more chopped coriander leaves.

Jordan Rocks

That's the name I thought of for Artist Son's latest artistic and commercial venture. He's not so sure, though. The double meaning is a little cheesy in his opinion. Jo-Rocks doesn't work for him either, so for the time being his venture will remain nameless.

Desert Monitor

Sinai Agama

Artist Son has long been combining his love of nature, wildlife, and art, and I think his latest project, painting indigenous Jordanian lizards on Jordanian rocks, is the perfect combination of these loves. In the past months he has sold a couple of his painted rocks to individuals and given a few more as gifts, and now they are available for sale in the local market.

Turkish Gecko

From the Earth, and industry business which exports products from the Middle East to the United States and Europe, also maintains a growing presence in the Jordanian market and will be carrying Artist Son's lizard rocks at their showroom.

Lebanon Lizard

Northern Fan-Footed Gecko

Artist Son is also experimenting painting Jordanian insects and scorpions on rocks. Stay tuned...

Amman International Marathon/10K

Approximately 12,000 participants from 71 countries, unseasonably hot temperatures of about 35 degrees C--over 90 degrees F, and a race route that took runners and walkers through downtown Amman streets lined with traditional old-city dwellers and shop keepers all combined to make the first Amman International Marathon/10K Run an event rather than a race. Why, His Majesty King Abdallah even sent his regards by way of four special planes to swoop down over the start of the race, twice, in perfect formation.

Dear Husband, Active Son, Artist Son, and I ran the 10K along with a couple of friends. Tayta ran the was-supposed-t0-be-4K-but-was-really-only-about-2K Run with a couple of her friends.


In the far right of our after-the-races group picture is our new friend, Jon. We are pleased to stand with him in this picture because besides being a really great guy, he is a really great runner--the kind that runs at the front of the pack. It was a pleasure to cheer him on as he ran--fast--with the best of them. He placed sixth, or ninth, in the Men's 10K Run. Way ahead of the rest of us. We finished, though all of us with slower times than we had hoped for due to the heat. And I'm thinking the distinct intermingling wasit il-balad (city center) odors of garbage, coffee, spices, and oily asphalt had something to do with it too. My excuse only.

Good effort by the race organizers, but runners in Jordan are still waiting for a race run well, with accurate mileage markers, cups of water (instead of hard to drink from environmentally unsound plastic bottles which have to be dodged by runners because they are thrown on the ground--this was downright hazardous when the water met the oily asphalt.), and more participants who are committed to running a fair race--cheaters abounded whenever the opportunity presented itself and many remained in the race until the end. Another suggestion: have the many, many walkers begin the race after the runners; when I wasn't dodging water bottles I was weaving through groups of walkers, at least at the start of the race. And then there were the walkers who were playing soccer with the water bottles...

Jerusalem Doors, Jewish Quarter

While Christianity and Islam are both represented in Jerusalem's Old City by well known shrines and places of worship which have walls, roofs, and doors, Judaism has no such ancient edifice. Instead, Jewish (and some Christian) worshipers pray at the Western Wall or, as it is also known, The Wailing Wall.

Judaism's most sacred spot, the Western Wall is the section of the western supporting wall of the Temple Mount remaining after the destruction of the second temple in 70 A.D.

Dazzling Dahlias

Planting dahlias in the garden was Tayta's idea. She is still learning the names of all the garden flowers so she called these daffodilias for the first half of the summer.

Let Them Eat Bread

And eating bread is what we are happily doing since I have madeThe Discovery That Revolutionized Home Baking and started baking Artisan Bread in Five Minutes a Day. Now, I would tend to suspect any book which makes such grand claims in its title and subtitle, however some online friends were chatting about the success--and bread--they were enjoying, baking by this new method and I knew that I had to give it a try; even if it took ten minutes a day it would be a worthwhile investment of time and money.



Artisan Bread in Five Minutes a Day

I was pleasantly surprised--no, make that close to ecstatic--that this book delivers on its claims one hundred percent. The recipe and method couldn't be easier and the bread couldn't be more delicious. Developed by pastry chef and baker, Zoe Francois, and scientist, Jeff Hertzberg, the basic method calls for storing a pre-mixed, high moisture dough--no kneading or rising required. They couldn't be serious! I began with the Master Recipe:

The Master Recipe: Boule (Artisan Free-Form)
(one should master this basic recipe before moving on to all the other great recipes in this book)
Makes four 1-pound loaves. The recipe is easily doubled.
3 cups lukewarm water
1 1/2 Tablespoons yeast
1 1/2 tablespoons kosher or other coarse salt (I use sea salt. Don't use regular table salt--it really does matter.)
6 1/2 cups unsifted, unbleached, all-purpose white flour
Cornmeal for the pizza peel--or just a plain baking sheet, which is what I use.

Directions (in my own words)

I mixed the four ingredients in a large Tupperware container* with a wooden spoon--this doesn't even get the mixer or the counter dirty: first put the warm water in a large container and add the yeast and the salt. Add all of the flour and mix thoroughly with a large wooden spoon--my choice, or your hands. Make sure you've mixed in all the little pockets of flour. You don't need to knead the dough--really! The mixed dough should be wet and loose enough to conform to the shape of the container. Loosely cover the container with a lid.


Once the dough rises and and begins to collapse (about one hour in Amman September weather) it can be stored in the refrigerator--still loosely covered-- for up to two weeks (though we bake bread so often that a double batch of dough never lasts more than a couple of days.) The dough is now ready for use, though it is easier to handle after is has been refrigerated for a few hours.

Baking the Bread (again, in my words)

The authors of Artisan Bread recommend using a wooden pizza peel and a baking stone but I have neither and no opportunity to purchase them in Amman so I forged ahead with my trusty metal baking sheets. Not a problem. So, my method varies a little from the book here. I spray my baking sheets lightly with vegetable oil and sprinkle them with cornmeal.

Next, I sprinkle the surface of the refrigerated dough with flour, and with floured hands, pull out a one-pound piece of dough (about the size of a grapefruit). The dough is quite sticky so I continue to add a bit of flour--just enough so that it won't stick to my hands. Then, stretching the dough a bit I gather up the ends of the dough underneath, forming a ball. Don't worry about smoothing up all the underneath ends. This process takes about a minute.

I place the ball of dough on my prepared pan and let it rest for 40 minutes--Hmm, a 40 minute rest sounds nice. 20 minutes into the resting time, I pre-heat the oven to 450 degrees F. (Place an empty broiler tray for holding water--mine is under the bottom rack.)

When the dough has rested for 40 minutes I dip a serrated knife into flour and score the loaf. After placing the loaf in the oven I quickly pour a cup of hot water into the boiler pan and shut the oven door to trap the steam. I bake the bread about 30 minutes or until the crust is browned well. I've over-baked a couple of loaves but because the dough is so wet, the bread has never been dry. I cool the bread on a cooling rack but often we are cutting into it before it is completely cooled.

My First Loaves

I've baked a few loaves that didn't turn out quite as beautiful as the ones in these pictures--a couple loaves flattened out a bit more--but the bread quality was just as good as in the pretty ones.

The Master Recipe makes such delicious bread that I haven't yet ventured to try the other wonderful recipes in this book--though I have substituted some whole-wheat flour (5 of the 13 cups) and added ground flax seed and olives**. I had to add a more water to the recipe--about a cup-- when I used whole wheat flour.

Whole Wheat Olive Bread

I've also used the Boule' dough with or without a little olive oil added to the dough to make a pizza crust, with the added benefit of not needing to rest the dough before adding toppings and baking. So, I'm trying to keep sauce and cheese on hand so that a pizza can be in the oven just five to ten minutes after the thought.

For more ideas and recipes, check out the Artisan Bread in Five Minutes a Day site. And, buy the book. You won't regret it. Oh, and buy a big bottle of olive oil for dipping--we haven't used butter on this bread yet.

Edit~
*The book recommends using a 5 quart container for a single batch of dough. I use a 6.7 liter--about 7 quarts--for a double batch (picture above)
**When I add olives I set the dough down on the oiled baking sheet, flatten it out just a little, sprinkle the olives over the surface, roll it, and form the ball of dough.

The Form of Cuteness

Snickers

According to Plato, these kittens are both cute...and ugly. In his famous explanation of how we know what we know, which includes his Divided Line simile describing the different degrees of knowledge, Plato says that some sense perceptions 'summon' thought while others do not. When I see these kittens frolicking in the garden or sleeping together in one big intertwined ball of fur I am not compelled to ask if a kitten is at the same time the opposite of a kitten. However, what about their bigness? Their smallness? And what about their cuteness?? Now, Plato says, my understanding has been awakened, or summoned, by the perception of these qualities. Big compared to what? Small compared to what? Cute compared to what??

Compared, of course, to the Forms, the perfect, intangible, objective, transcendent First Principles which Plato believed exist independent of any object and can only be known by the reasoning soul. Thus, the Form of Cuteness. And while these kittens, as physical beings, can only represent the Form of Cuteness I just have to think that they must be in one of the very highest categories of things cute. And sweet. And adorable.

Guinevere

What to do?

The young miner, Curdie, on a yet undisclosed mission in the service of his king:
"At last in a gorgeously painted gallery, he saw a curtain of crimson, and on the curtain a royal crown wrought in silks and stones. He felt sure this must be the king's chamber, and it was here he was wanted; or, if it was not the place he was bound for, something would meet him and turn him aside; for he had come to think that so long as a man wants to do right he may go where he can: when he can go no farther, then it is not the way. 'Only,' said his father, in assenting to the theory, 'he must really want to do right, and not merely fancy he does. He must want it with his heart and will, and not with this rag of a tongue.' " p. 142



The Princess and Curdie, by George McDonald

Jerusalem Doors: al-Haram ash-Sharif

al 'Aqsa

This is just one of he doors of al 'Aqsa Mosque, the second oldest mosque and the third holiest site in Islam. al 'Aqsa Mosque and the Islamic shrine, The Dome of the Rock, make up the "Sacred noble Sancuary, or al-Haram ash-Sharif. Islamic tradition holds that the prophet Muhammad, after his miraculous night journey from Mecca to Jerusalem, made his ascension to heaven from the rock which is now covered by the a golden dome.

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The al-Haram ash-Sharif is one is one of the most sensitive sites in Jerusalem as this Islamic compound is built on what Jews believe to be the Temple Mount or the site of the second temple; the site of the Dome of the Rock is considered by some to be the traditional site of Abraham's sacrifice of Isaac and the Holy of Holies of the Jewish temple. Jews are forbidden from praying on the compound and instead pray at the Western Wall, which borders the west side of al-Haram ash-Sharif.

An interesting bit of Jordanian and Al 'Aqsa history: On July 20 1951, King Abdallah I of Jordan was assassinated while attending Friday prayers at Al' Aqsa. As the story goes, King Abdallah traveled to Jerusalem with his grandson, Hussein, but when they arrived it was discovered that Hussein had left his military uniform in Amman so King Abdallah insisted it be sent for. (Jerusalem is only about 45 miles from Amman but modern day border crossings make the trip take about three to five hours.) When King Abdallah was shot, Hussein who was at his side was also hit but the bullet deflected off a military medal he was wearing, one which had been worn at his grandfather's insistence. Hussein was enthroned as the monarch of Jordan in 1953 and reigned until his death in 1999.

Dome of the Rock

An interesting bit of Jordanian and Dome of the Rock History: The gold leaf which covers the now aluminum dome--it was once all gold--was donated by the late King Hussein of Jordan.

Turning to Learn

While many ceremoniously began the school year last week with special breakfasts, school orientations, and new uniforms, our efforts at education commenced inauspiciously: I overslept and by late morning we were still taking stock of the supplies we needed to purchase at the nearby maktabi (office supply store).

As I did last year, I began our season of study by reading aloud this essay by George Grant. Just slightly different than the Knowledge is Power philosophy that I was raised on, Mr. Grant's essay reminded us that the beginning of true and right learning is repentance, a humble turning of ourselves away from ourselves, towards community and the pursuit of truth:

"At the beginning of every academic year I like to remind myself and my students that true education is a form of repentance. It is a humble admission that we've not read all that we need to read, we don't know all that we need to know, and we've not yet become all that we are called to become. Education is that unique form of discipleship that brings us to the place of admitting our inadequacies. It is that remarkable rebuke of autonomy and independence so powerful and so evident that we actually shut up and pay heed for a change.

C.S. Lewis said it well: "The surest sign of true intellectual acumen is a student's comprehension of what it is he does not know; not what he does know. It is a spirit of humility that affords us with the best opportunity to grow, mature, and achieve in the life of the mind. It is knowing how much we do not know that enables us to fully embark on a lifetime of learning; to recover to any degree the beauty goodness and truth of Christendom."

Likewise, G.K. Chesterton asserted: "I am always suspicious of the expert who knows he is an expert. Far better to seek the wisdom of the common, the ordinary, and the humble--for God resists the proud but gives grace to the humble."

Active Son, Artist Son, and I are beginning our year with readings and discussions from Plato's Republic, which by the way, should be read and discussed, at least in part, by every high school student. As we considered Plato's proposals for the desired education of philosopher/kings, i.e. the idea rulers, we again found this idea of turning:

Socrates: Then here is how we must think about these matters, if that is true: education is not what some people boastfully declare it to be. They presumably say they can put knowledge into souls that lack it, as if they could put sight into blind eyes...But here is what our present account shows about this power to learn that is present in everyone's soul, and the instrument with which each of us learns: just as an eye cannot be turned around from darkness to light except by turning the whole body, so this instrument must be turned around from what-comes-to-be (things we know by our own senses) together with the whole soul, until it is able to bear to look at what is and at the brightest thing that is--the one we call the good. Republic 518b:5

Plato's Republic