Danielle Marie

Pickled Peach Salad

September 15, 2015 By Danielle 2 Comments

Currently? Navigation of a pleasant week is being nurtured. The air is warm but the arriving breezes are cool. The sky is an incredible blue with the temperature easing. The hammock never sleeps, just cradles. Nothing is feeling too rushed. Tensions eased and evaporated – perfect rainy days on the way. I have a serene affinity for September, most notably the end when fall begins. Randomly I philosophize that this may be connected to my birth, but these are only ponderings. This year my birth is a lunar eclipse – I will be barking at the moon, sweet friends. Barking, howling, yelping, crying, laughing and loving. I do hope you get to catch it where you are. The blood moon and I will conspire against the sun lightly and jovially.

The stone fruit is diminishing where I am and we’ve had a relatively inspired experience with canning this year. Preserving the harvest is necessary and totally absolute. It’s a genuine way to extend the life of your hard work or favorite flavors – and perhaps make dreams a reality when several feet of snow blanket the cold, hard ground in a few months from now. Pickled peaches are a charming venture with riveting results. Although my recipe is for a quick pickle – canning peaches is a delight unto itself. How happy the heart can sigh.

While the peaches are a triumphant song all to themselves, there’s always that slight in the back of my mind that yearns for salad. On this note, it’s quite possible to have your peaches and eat them too. Or remedy any of your heaviness with lightheartedness. Or accept the sooner darkening of hours with openness and possibility.

Pickled Peach Salad

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Author: Rooting The Sun

Ingredients

a pickle for the peaches:
4 ripe peaches, flesh still firm
1¼ cup Apple Cider Vinegar
1¼ cup water
½ cup sugar
2 tbl honey
1 tbl crushed red pepper
1 tsp salt
1 tsp peppercorn
1 tsp mustard seed
4 whole cloves
4 anise pods
1 cinnamon stick
a summer salad for the soul:
mustard greens
minced dill fronds
sliced raw beets
pickled peaches
fontina cheese

Instructions

To quick pickle: Slice peaches into wedges and place into empty jars. Add apple cider vinegar, water, sugar, honey, crushed red pepper, salt, mustard seed, clove, anise, cinnamon together in a medium stove pot. Sitr lightly and bring mixture to heat, so to dissolve the sugar and honey. Pour hot liquid over peaches and allow to cool before refrigerating. Rest the peaches a minimum of ten minutes before enjoying.
To salad the soul: Assemble bowls filled with mustard greens, minced dill, sliced raw beet, pickled peach wedges, and thinly sliced fontina cheese. Enjoy with a vinaigrette of equal parts apple cider vinegar and maple syrup, ½ measurement more of oil, and 1-2 tbl of mustard.

Chilled Honeydew Melon Soup

September 12, 2015 By Danielle 2 Comments

This is a very special melon to me. It overcame a lot of trials and tribulations this year to make an appearance. There was a period in the beginning of the season that we collectively cringed because we released our starts into the arms of danger as the weather unexpectedly degraded. The day after much of our planting the wind grew to sixty mile an hour gusts for a stint of four or five days. Needless to say the starts were not exactly enticed with their new environment. I was extremely curious and excited to procure honeydew melons this year (as well I am super partial to their flavor) – and my heart was wrapped tightly around this breed called the Snow Leopard melon. In between weather disaster and illy-planned portions of the garden I was able to receive this singular honeydew. It’s ironic and slightly supernatural to me that my melon is as elusive as the true snow leopard, but all the more empowering.

A sigh of bliss is accompanying this weekend as the temperatures hold briefly warm before their simple decline next week. The sun is hot but the air is brisk. This week was long and somehow left us sore and mentally exhausted – hence a decision to retreat into the hills this evening. There are many common medicines one may absorb to quickly erase their ailments, but nothing can soothe as well as the slow and nude compass of the woodland. We pay homage to the land that has paid us, and the disconnection and redirection are priceless.

If the finality of your summer temperature is apparent, or if you are where the temperature never quits – a cold and refreshing melon soup. We paid homage to the melon by delighting in sweet cubes of its flesh, and took the remaining into a blended soup.

I am leaving you with a somewhat stripped recipe – if we may even call it that, perhaps this afternoon it’s a recommendation of sorts. A recommendation to release yourself from any tired elements and bring into focus the simplistic points of existence. Breathing and thinking comprise the grid. The melon was rare in the garden this year but the love for it was not.

Chilled Honeydew Melon Soup

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Author: Rooting The Sun

Ingredients

1 honeydew
juice of 1 lime
handful of cilantro
pistachio

Instructions

blend honeydew with lime juice and cilantro in processor or blender - start with small amounts and increase to structure to your taste
chill soup or serve in chilled bowls
serve topped with pistachio

A Meditation on the Garden

September 9, 2015 By Danielle 10 Comments

There was a doubtless sincerity to the blue wash of the sky today – accented gently with sable, badger, hog-hair clouds; wisps of the mother’s eternal paintbrush. Today the wind smoothly outfitted the valleys and roads where no hills jutted, and in town it coyly began to disturb the branches of the trees. I could see leaves quivering in question today – to jump or not to jump: this is the autumn’s measured arrival. It’s a passive and quiet entrance, allowing the summer to dissolve in patience and respect. She is the great season of heat and growth – for months we were able to feast within the cozy of her womb. She enabled us, helped us germinate, allowed us to propagate, and in unity we flourished. Any hastiness we exhibited she automatically humbled.

We soaked the roots and fortified the dirt. We opened our lungs and inhaled the scent of water. We calculated weather patterns with superstitions and logic. We were (really) gracious to our logic and doubled (tripled) our superstitions. Many conversations were had with the sky, and many more were had with the ground. A third type of conversation was held with people. Many we knew, some we loved, and then an infinity of strangers to coax our souls. What held the most relevance was the spread of good vibration – to gift the opportunity to cultivate optimistic and intelligent choices. Gravity’s center is where you begin it – and you don’t need a lot of space to locate nirvana. When one grows: it’s for one’s self, for one’s neighbor, for our earth, and for overall health.

We watched the roots run deep, held our breaths, sighed loudly, and sucked on the roots for all that they contained. Nothing went to waste. It was a season of affirmations. Instead of searching for the truth we greeted one another face to face. Failures were accepted and embedded, and every waking moment was a rolling triumph into the next.

Now as summer steadies herself into gradual slumber we can look at our hands and caress the calluses. We can count the lines and draw conclusions. We can circle calendar days and dog-ear observations. We can momentarily relax, but delight in the solitary truth that the garden is perpetual. A quiet delirium kisses our temples – but this is the absolution and realization of the first wave of goals. To blossom our tiny accomplishments and save their seeds for the next bloom. To receive from the universe what we put into it. To enlighten and inspire. To leave nobody behind and to gather community. To base a life on the concentration of positivity. To feed our physicality with intention and poise. To nourish the soul and calm the ego. To bind both harmoniously within our bodies. The steps are organic, and the choice eternal.

I like the temperature change.

Pepita Pistachio Butter

September 6, 2015 By Danielle Leave a Comment

A crisp breath inward punctuates my lungs and today the air is so cool that my heart is on fire. This weather is refreshing and I am reveling in it. The slow and simple decline of summer, the chirps of new birds, the shuffle for longer sleeves, the lighting of candles, the inclination of change arriving on the prairie winds. The leaves of the cottonwoods shimmer silver as they contemplate their release. There is much to digest – many things that accompany the seasonal shift. There is gratitude for the bounty of the summer, and curiosity for the onset of cold. This gradual process is a meditative yearly ritual. To embrace each season is to be on good terms.

I like to think we are masters of small space living. Our space is particularly evident when the cold keeps us inside. Yet somehow our silhouettes shift and slide gracefully into the next space without disturbing the flow of the last. The dog doesn’t have this down yet, but let’s blame it on her big paws. We are outside people. The garden is outside, the mountains are outside, the bodies of water are outside, and our heads our generally in space (again, outside). It’s occasionally difficult to audibly murmur that it’s “too” cold to be outdoors – however the temperatures like to drop rather low here (add windchill and those tears are frozen). If I had one lament (I try not to) about the seasonal transference it would be the multitude of dark hours we must spend indoors at the year’s end. Though this is remedied by boozy holidays and festivities. And if I had to turn the lament upside down and find the positive – I would acknowledge that those hours inside are cherished and quiet ones. Productive in their own right. Intimate and candlelit. Loud when future plans are being drawn in maps and journals on the floor. Reminiscent, excited, hopeful.

Snapshots of what isn’t here quite yet, but what is coming and what I’m ok with.

The cold snap has a strange stirring effect on my mind.

And when you stir (whir, blend) nuts/seeds for an extended period of time you create delicious butter. I am offering pepitas and pistachios in an irresistible combination. To be enjoyed any season, but it seems quite playful with the first flirtations of autumn.

There is much cosmic excitement about pumpkins. It’s a holy fruit, a cult obsession, and a tasty addition to just about anything. Pepitas are no less exciting, but I harness my focus on them year round instead. This recipe is so simple and the results are of divinity. All it takes is a small stint of roasting, and a bit of patience blending.

What doesn’t come together initially will eventually come together in grand ways. You are left with a butter that is deliciously enjoyed on crackers, bread, vegetables, and fruit.

Happy holiday weekend friends – here’s to the sun setting down sooner, but the moon rising to new and greater heights. I hope your hearts are open to any of your own seasonal shifts – there is much to engage with.

Pepita Pistachio Butter

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Prep time

5 mins

Cook time

10 mins

Total time

15 mins

Author: Rooting The Sun

Serves: ½ - ¾ cup

Ingredients

1 cup raw pumpkin seed
½ cup shelled pistachio
1 tbl coconut oil softened
¼ tsp cinnamon
¼ tsp chili powder

Instructions

preheat oven to 350 degrees
toast pumpkin and pistachio on a baking sheet ten minutes
transfer to food processor and blend until the consistency is of a crumble, 2-3 minutes.
add the coconut oil and continue to blend until a butter forms. the mixture may become sticky before it becomes smooth.
add the cinnamon and chili powder and incorporate in processor.

Notes

recipe may be easily double, tripled, quadrupled for a higher yield of butter.

Baba Ganoush with Miso

September 2, 2015 By Danielle 6 Comments

Poached are any lingering feelings of exhaustion or dullness because soon the holiday weekend will be upon us – I am left feeling optimistic and welcoming of the time away from work. I have a mind that easily wanders whilst I’m allegedly assigned to “more important tasks”, so it’s always nice to be able to have personal time for my wandering mind. Inspiration can be quite beguiling at times: often I think I am onto a brilliance as my senses become heightened and my synapses start to fire – but just as soon as it hatches, it flickers and dims. I cannot be alone in this! But there are those times where (what you feel is) greatness steps into the air. There is a lure involved with an awakening – the temptation of the muse we do not know yet, but will fall so hard for. The beginnings of these feelings are chaotic and blissful. The results, if they come to fruition, are frustrating, beautiful, and captivating all at once. We can search for it, or we are found – but it’s always an adventure.

The garden has been the greatest influence to my life this year. Many hours have revolved around planning, tending, nurturing, and receiving. I have spent many more hours speaking lovingly to those who surround me about the joys and benefits of growing your own food. My hours spent convincing have been short, mainly because I think there is a sweet and communal acknowledgement that food is best when it is fortified by one’s own hand. Around here we are investigating new ways to spread the message that you don’t necessarily need a farm to provide some form of nourishment for yourself. We are managing our paradise in an urban setting, and I want our neighbors to know that they can do it too! You’d be amazed what you can procure in pots and containers alone. We try not to preach, but simply want to share our enlightenment. Self-sufficiency and health are an unbeatable combination, and an inspiring concoction.

When the garden gives you eggplants you make baba ganoush? I like to think so. This is absolutely one of my favorite dips. There is a sincere smokiness to blistered eggplant that is simply divine. We have been granted some very eager eggplants this year – such beauties to watch grow. We experimented with a few different varieties, including fairy-tales and gretels. I don’t have their portraits with me this evening, but I will share them soon – serious stunners, and tasty to boot. I crafted the baba ganoush with our purple satin eggplants, and the taste was one of happiness. A twist I thought was ever so pleasant and elevating was the addition of miso (I am extremely fond of it). A small endeavor in the oven followed by a quick whirl in the processor leads you softly to bright and bold flavor. I am such a fan.

Enjoy cosmically with pita, olives, cheese, and crudités.

I hope that the oncoming holiday weekend is full of relaxation, inspiration, and loving vibrations. Even though summer is technically still upon us I am giddy with the release of my favorite brewing company’s fall beer, Tumbler. It definitely accents and punctuates cool, crisp nights better – but I can hardly resist a preliminary sip.

Baba Ganoush with Miso

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Prep time

5 mins

Cook time

30 mins

Total time

35 mins

Author: Rooting The Sun

Serves: 1-2 cups

Ingredients

1½ - 2 lb eggplant (1-2 eggplants)
2-3 garlic cloves smashed (preference!)
3 tbl tahini
juice of 1 large lemon
1 tbl olive oil
1 tsp red miso paste (+more to taste if desired)
½ tsp smoked paprika
⅛ tsp cayenne

Instructions

preheat oven's broiler on high
prick eggplant with a fork
broil on a sheet pan close to the top of the oven for 5-10 minutes
turn oven to 350 degrees
roast eggplants (and add smashed garlic cloves) for 30 minutes until browned and soft
release eggplants from their skins and scrape flesh into a food processor
add tahini, lemon juice, olive oil, miso, paprika, and cayenne
process until smooth
adjust seasonings to taste (add salt and pepper if desired)
garnish with drizzle of olive oil, sesame seeds, cilantro, and pomegranate arils

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