The Shark

Remembering Dad

Dad was a fly fisherman for years before he discovered free diving.   He grew up in Colorado and knew all the best stops for fly-fishing in the Rocky Mountains.  Our family moved to a number of small towns before we landed in San Diego where Dad took up diving.  

Every weekend Dad got out his wet suit, went diving for fish in La Jolla and collected abalone (this was the 1960s and there wasn't any limit on how many wild abalone you could collect, and apparently like the plains buffalo people thought abalone would last forever).   Dad cleaned it, sliced it and we took turns pounding the abalone into edible steaks.  We stocked so much abalone and fish in our freezer, we ate it all year, two or three times a week.  

Dad joined local diving clubs that hosted tournaments and with dad's competitive nature, trophies began multiplying on living room shelves.   When we moved to San Jose, Dad alternated between fly fishing in the Sierra Mountains and diving in Monterey.

Dad's diving friends called him the "Shark" until he  passed away a few years ago.  When we were cleaning out Dad's house, his diving buddy Perry stopped by and he shared diving stories and the story of how dad earned his unique nickname.

Dad had expanded his diving areas beyond California to Mexico and Belize.   Dad had gone diving with some friends in the 1980s.  Dad was in his 60s then. 

"We were diving off the coast of Belize and your dad hollered, 'Perry get my spear gun, quick.'  I looked and was shocked to see two sharks circling your dad."  Perry got dad's spear and started swimming towards him. He was nearly there when suddenly the sharks swam away.  Maybe they were harmless, maybe they were dangerous.  Dad never got a chance to find out.   

I saw a different guy when Perry talked about Dad, and I was really touched by Dad's friendships (and dogs, of course) that meant so much to him.  He attended his high school reunions for years and had friends that went back to high school.

After dad was gone, Perry wrote this great tribute: 

"Del you were the Shark . . .

We were dive partners and good buddies.  Though we were an odd couple . . .

An engineer and an artist we never had a heated disagreement.  You were good company and we did have some laughs during our adventures. I'm glad you got to read an advanced copy of the dive chapter in my latest book.  Diving California, Mexico, Belize and Tortilla were adventures you pulled me into . . . and I will always be thankful you were my good friend.  Del you logically avoided friction or futility, you liked things to go smoothly.  You were always engineering a good plan.  We got fun to go our way.  Those times are all treasured memories.  I'm glad you passed into this next adventure with no big  pain, mess or lingering fuss after eighty seven good years.  Good plan, Shark,

Del's old Los Gearous Reef Champ,

Perry

A rich man, when it came to friends, Dad had no shortage of friends in his liftime.  

Here's a salute to connections that make the world go round.  

Hope your Father's Day was a happy one!

Dad in the Coast Guard in The Marshall Islands during World War II

Father's Day Food Memories

My dad ate an egg every morning ever since I could remember. He'd heat the skillet, crack an egg into it and wait for the whites to cook before scrambling the egg. Later when I saw Julia Child cooking omelets on TV I wondered why Dad didn't whisk his eggs before he cooked them.

Mom once whispered that it was because of the War.

Dad was in the Coast Guard during World II, which falls under control of the Navy during war time. He was stationed in the Marshal Islands and he had lots of pictures--baracks, ships, beaches, palm trees, servicemen and even a little dog on board the ship, but not surprisingly no photos of war time food.

During the war eggs were in short supply. Service men ate reconstituted powdered eggs every morning and they also ate plenty of dehydrated potatoes, spam, oats, rice and S.O.S. (shit on a shingle)--"creamed" chipped beef on toast. Not much in the way of fresh vegetables and fruits, but dad did say they ate tropical fruit on the island.

He married Mom when he was leave.

Beyond grilling Dad about war time menus, I didn't think much about his service until I read Unbroken by Laura Hillenbrand. This riveting tale follows the life of Louis Zamperini an Olympic runner and World War II bombardier whose plane went down in the Pacific Ocean. After crashing into the ocean, Louis and two other men survive on a life raft with sharks up to 20 feet long circling and leaping aboard. One man dies on the raft and the two that survive get "rescued" by the Japanese who brutalize them in war camps until the end of the war.

Hillenbrand's vivid details and compelling narrative made me wonder about Dad's service in the Pacific. Dad wasn't the pack rat that Louis Zamperini was (this article says his scrapbook alone weighs 63 pounds!), but Dad had pictures, a Navy manual and this old cigar box filled with a photographs, and a newsletter called "The Martial Air."

The war in the Pacific was called "The Pacific-Asiatic Theatre." The picture of the Japanese military man says AdmiralYamamoto--handwritten on the back. I did a google search and learned he's the man who planned the attack on Pearl Harbor and coordinated the war in the Pacific. I wish I knew the story behind the picture and how it ended up in Dad's treasure box.

The only story I know is that once when a boat that Dad was on capsized, he swam at least five miles to shore and sent a rescue boat out to pick up his crew mates. I'm not sure about sharks in the water, but maybe my dad earned his nickname "The Shark," earlier than I imagined.

My uncle (below with Mom and Dad) was a bombardier during the war and flew 50 missions over Germany in a B17, apparently a much more reliable plane than the B24, called a flying coffin by Zamperini.

Unbroken is hero's journey wrapped in a roller coaster tale where Japanese POWs were lucky to come out of the camps alive. This book gave me a new perspective about a war I had little knowledge about, and it gave me so much more reason to be grateful for life which so many people take for granted.

I'm lucky I ended up with so many pictures but I'm sorry Dad isn't around to fill in the stories.

I'm pretty sure dad would think the eggs I buy at the market are way too expensive. A frugal soul, Dad grew up during the Depression and when I learned that nonrated servicemen during the Navy earned only $54 a month--I totally get why Dad was a saver and opted for cheaper options at the grocery store.

But I love these eggs and I like the that my money helps support local farms.

It doesn't really matter whether you whisk them before you cook them or not, the taste is pure luxury, and even with my $100 a week food budget, these farm raised eggs are always on my list.

Finn just wants a few good leftovers! May your Father's day food memories bring you joy!

Pears and The Season for Giving

Northwest Pear Abundance

When I returned home from the Whatcom County Farm Tour last weekend I got a phone message from my gardening friends Molly and Bill who had a bumper crop of pears and wanted to know if I wanted a few. I think my cooking assistant would abandon me if I didn't take this offer so I jumped on it right away and drove over to their house.

When I got to there I was surprised when Bill handed me two full boxes of pears. On the left are Atlantic Queens and on the right are Orcas. I can't remember what the odd pear is in the middle but it was ripe so I ate it soon after this photo was taken. Sweet with a creamy Bosc-like texture only more creamy, the sweet tones and juice practically sparkled in my mouth. My assistant sulked when he didn't get a sample.

Bill helped me carry the boxes to the car and told me I must keep them cool.

Storing and ripening

Pears are one of the only fruits picked unripe and when they ripen it starts on the inside. A pear can quickly go from ripe to rotten so some farmers keep the pears in cooling rooms before they ripen. The best way to store them is in the refrigerator. Take a pear out and let it ripen on the counter, but be careful don't let it overripen. Feel them everyday around the stem--kind of like Hansel in the old Hansel and Grettle fairy tale.

"Feel around the stem," Bill said. "If it's soft, it's ready."

After he walked away I gazed at the full boxes and thought, even if I dehydrate a lot of them and let others ripen slowly, I still had more than we might eat. Today I'm loading up some bags of pears for my neighbors to share this sweet bounty.

Sharing the harvest

Many backyard gardeners who cultivate apples and pears are blessed with more than enough to share this year. In Bellingham, people harvest unused tree fruit for food banks. A new Northwest publication Grow Northwest featured an article about Small Potatoes, a local gleaning project that became administrated by the Bellingham Food Bank in 2009.

Small Potatoes Program Coordinator Max Morange said, "The response has been terrific. Food Bank supplies of fresh produce are often low at the beginning of the harvest season and at its end. . . The difference between a canned item and one that's been harvested hours before distribution is like that of night and day."

I searched to find other Northwest gleaning projects and one of those is in Southwest Seattle called glean it. Another organization in Seattle Lettuce Link is a program of Solid Ground. When I checked Portland for gleaners, I found this blog that listed Urban Gleaners, a very cool organization that picks up fresh food from orchards, fields, grocery stores and restaurants to deliver food to food banks.

You don't really need to call gleaners if you have overloaded fruit trees, but don't let the harvest go to waste when so many people could use more fresh fruits and vegetables. Why not share with neighbors or contact food banks to see if they'd like a donation.

Book Tour Notes

I'm headed to Portland this weekend for the Veg Fest, and of course I'll sneak in a farmers' market visit or two. I can't miss Ayers Creek grapes and Gathering Together Farm fresh salsa at Hillsdale Market on Sunday. On Sunday at 12:00pm, I'm putting together something a savory vegan creation from The Northwest Vegetarian Cookbook. Next Wednesday I'll be in Vancouver BC at Barbara Jo's Books to Cooks where I'll host a cooking demo and serve up a fantastic vegetarian meal with recipes from my book. I've decided to stay at the Granville Island Hotel. I feel a little bad that my cooking assistant can't make either trip but frankly I can't wait.

Mom's Favorite Cookbook and Hazelnut Biscotti

My mom was not great cook. Except for the best banana bread, and a few cookies, including biscotti making tasty savory foods eluded her. Aside from my dad's abundant fish dinners, I recall Mom's dry pork chops, stringy pot roast and leathery cube steak dinners.

Mom was absolutely delighted when Peg Bracken released The I Hate to Cookbook in 1960. "I love this book," Mom had said, "it's like it was written for me."

I never really looked at the I Hate to Cookbook until after Mom passed away, but I smiled the other day when I opened it, reread the introduction and thought about Mom:

"Some women it is said, like to cook.

This book is not for them. This book is for those of us who hate to, who have learned, through hard experience, that some activities become no less painful through repetition: childbearing, paying taxes, cooking. This book is for those of us who want to fold our big dishwater hands around a dry Martini instead of a wet flounder, come the end of a long day."

I like to think that Mom just never hit her stride in the kitchen, never really found what she truly loved cook beyond sweet recipes. Or maybe Mom was simply more interested in her flower garden, sewing projects, drawings, watercolors and Louis L'Amour westerns.

Anyway, thinking about Mom, on Saturday at the market, Patty said she'd wanted to get a plant in memory of Sam, so when I walked over to meet her at the Botanica Plant booth, I spotted this lovely exotic peony and thought of Mom's beautiful flower gardens. I got it and thought it was perfect and much better than baking one of Mom's favorite sweet recipes. But my kitchen assistant looked so sad I had to get out my cookbook and make hazelnut biscotti. His mood brightened considerably.

Mom's biscotti was so good, everyone always wanted seconds, and thirds. Mom had to hide the Italian cookies to save some for herself, but one dayI found her treasure trove stashed behind the pots and pans--the cookware Mom rebelled against. But these pots and pans were what I used the most in the kitchen when I was in high school when I cooked my many of my own vegetable-dominated dinners.

I can't remember Mom's exact biscotti recipe now, but the recipe in my cookbook evolved from Mom's recipe called Knish Cookies. I make it Northwest with the hazelnuts from Holmquist Orchards and soft wheat flour from Nash's. The flour has less gluten than grocery store flour, but the flavor is so much better, it doesn't really matter that these recipes crumbled a little more than usual. Here's my recipe from The Northwest Vegetarian Cookbook:

Hazelnut Breakfast Biscotti

My mother always had a few biscotti with her morning coffee, so enjoy them first thing in the morning or save them for an afternoon treat. These twice-baked Italian cookies can be baked up to a day ahead the first time, then sliced and baked again.

Makes about 3 dozen

2 cups unbleached flour

1 cup whole wheat pastry flour

1 teaspoon each: baking powder and baking soda

Zest of 1 lemon, finely chopped

1 cup chopped hazelnuts, lightly toasted

1/2 cup butter

1 cup sugar

2 eggs, beaten

1/4 cup fresh lemon juice

1/2 tablespoon vanilla extract

1. Preheat the oven to 350ºF.

2. Combine the flour, baking powder, baking soda, lemon zest, and hazelnuts in a large bowl and mix well.

3. In a separate bowl, cream the butter and sugar together and blend in the eggs. Mix in the lemon juice and vanilla extract. Stir the wet into the dry ingredients, adding enough flour for a very stiff dough, if necessary.

4. Divide the dough in half and roll into 14-inch logs. Place on an ungreased baking sheet, flatten the tops of the logs, and bake until lightly browned on the bottom, about 25 minutes. Turn the oven off. Remove the logs from the oven and let them cool completely.

5. After at least 1/2 hour has elapsed, reheat the oven to 325ºF. When the logs are cool, slice 1/2 inch thick at approximately a 45º angle. Lay flat on a baking sheet or pizza screen. Bake until lightly browned, about 25 minutes. If using a baking sheet, turn halfway through baking to ensure even browning. Store the biscotti in a covered container at room temperature for up to a week or freeze.

Sowing Seeds of Gratitude

Whistling Duck Farm, Grants Pass, Oregon

The Earth sustains 75 billion tons of life. An interactive network of water, rock, soil and air, everything that lives is connected to every thing else. Is the Earth on your gift list this season?

Gifts to the earth don't require deep pockets, just that we make pro-planet choices and work to preserve our landscapes for future generations. What are the most important things we can do?

I posed this question to local farmers. It wasn’t surprising that “Purchase food from local farmers,” was the most popular response. Joan E McIntyre from Rent’s Due Ranch in Stanwood, Washington, summed it up: “Spend more money of local food than entertainment.”

Cows at Dungeness Valley Creamery

Bees at Whistling Duck Farm

Americans spend big bucks for a concert or sporting event and, though recreational shoppers are checking out discount and thrift stores now, many are reluctant to part with a dollar more per pound for local, organic apples.

People want to buy food with a social conscience at Wal-Mart prices,” said Wade Bennett from Rockridge Orchards in Enumclaw.“Get to know your farmer,” Bennett added. “The next phase is hiring your own farmers!”

The more impersonal and distant the corporate world becomes, the more we crave personal connections. We pay mechanics, personal trainers, massage therapists and even life coaches generous living wages, why not farmers?

According to the American Farm Bureau, one U.S. farmer feeds 129 people. Connecting the apple we purchase to the farmer who grew it is essential in making the leap from buying industrialized, factory food that robs the environment to supporting a sustainable food system.

And sustainable farmers are earth-stewards who outwit pests and endure weather challenges to conjure food from the soil. These farmers help maintain our waterways, encourage native pollinators and support migratory birds and predatory insects that keep pests in check.

While a Wal-Mart receipt might feel like a bargain when less money leaves your wallet, the deal struck at the cash register obscures the effects these purchases have on landscapes in our own backyard. The true costs of industrial factory farms are reflected on the receipt because “externalities” are costs absorbed by others.

“Our costs are in the present, but our accountability extends into the future,” said Steve Phillips from Port Madison Farm on Bainbridge Island. “Live your live as an example for those who follow.”

“Make fewer trips to the grocery store, said Dorie Belisle of Bellewood Acres in Lynden.

“Drive your car to a bus stop,” added Blake Johnston of Growing Things in Carnation.

Gifts to the planet don’t come in fancy packages, but they fill our lives with a sense of purpose—a connection to our farming neighbors and the place we live. When we buy heirloom apples from a local farmer, ditch the car and take a bus, or plan a spring garden to attract bees and influence others, we change the planet’s future one action at a time.

“Practice what you preach,” said Liz Eggers of Grouse Mountain Farm.

Over a decade ago a study by the U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service revealed that 82.5 million people feed birds in their backyards. When that many people can dip into their wallets consistently to feed birds, consider the possibilities if millions more people adopted habits that continually nourished the planet and sustained local farmers.

And isn’t there a good feeling when you can proudly tell your family or guests that dinner came from a sustainable farm just a few miles away?

Sow a few seeds of your own this year with gifts from local farms. Buy your family a CSA subscription for next spring or shop farmers’ markets and farm stores for edible gifts like hazelnut butter, cheese, fruit preserves and dried fruits.

These are a few farms in the Northwest who offer CSAs. Check them out for spring farm shares.

The Fry Family Farm in Talent, Oregon

Denison Farms in Corvallis, Oregon

Gathering Together Farm in Philomath, Oregon

Wille Greens Organic Farm in Monroe, Washington

Nash's Organic Produce in Sequim, Washington