Traced Elements

Tag: passion

  • Happy Anniversary, to me.

    Happy Anniversary, to me.

    It was a year ago to the day while consuming a couple tasty Steam Works IPAs in a Richmond Irish Pub en route to a family vacation in Mexico that I took the plunge and joined the Traced Elements family. Maybe it was liquid courage that egged me on because at the time I was scared to dive into a world I knew nothing about: writing. The only constant I had to offer was my deep love for gardening. As luck would have it I learned I also loved to write – or maybe this whole endeavor came into my life when I needed a new outlet more then I realized at the time.

    Regardless: it’s one of my favourite decisions to date.

    The winter’s sun, as of late, has been flooding my living space with a warming heat reminiscent of sandy beaches and margaritas while the arctic air swirls around outside. My cheeks are constantly blushed in colour having been kissed by the cold. Overall, I welcome this false warmth; it’s a perfect excuse to devour a bowl of spicy miso ramen, everyday.

    As the days get longer I look forward to my garden springing to life, even if they are currently blanketed in more snow then I can recall in the valley in years, my thoughts are hopeful, green and full of blooms. Many days I get lost and overwhelmed by the potential of things to grow as I browse numerous websites. Basically, my urge to propagate as many cool things as possible usually wins. You already know if you’ve read my other blogs that I’m a firm believer in the, “there is no harm in trying” experimental method.

    Seeds; they fuel everything. (A little bit of love doesn’t hurt either.)

    Plant anything and something good is bound to come from it. Sometimes there is growth and sometimes there are failures; either way you’ll learn something.

    I have been carrying the following quote with me for years but it is only now that I finally feel like I am acting on it (after all spring ushers in rebirth). So, in the words of Byron Pulsifer I leave you with this,

    “Passion creates the desire for more and action fuelled by passion creates a future.”

    …get ready to see some really cool things from me.

    #summerofmeesh

     

  • Save Your Fork

    Save Your Fork

    My need to forage continues. This week’s victim: Saskatoon berries. Just try walking past the currently loaded bushes of perfectly plump, deep purple berries – I dare you. Even Shadow comes to a complete skid stop to forage on the lower quarters of these native shrubs. Our mission over the last week was to beat the bears to the berries around our place and hit up a few other spots I’d been scoping. We were more than successful; stained fingers, a full bucket and swelled bellies. I figured the best way to capture these jewels was by channeling my inner Julia Child and baking a pie. So, here we go!

     

     

     

     

    Step Uno: make your crust. Use your favourite double crust recipe or try mine.

    2½ cups flour – tsp salt – 1 cup unsalted butter (frozen) – 6 to 8 tbsp ice cold water

    • Combine the flour and salt in a medium sized bowl. Then grate the butter into the flour. I cut the butter into two halves and grate one at a time, leaving the second in the freezer until I’m done the first. Once both blocks are done use your hands to combine the flour with the butter by gently rubbing it through your hands. It doesn’t need to be fully incorporated but what your looking for is a bunch of little “butter peas” coated in flour. I’m ghetto and don’t own a pastry cutter but if you have one then small cubed blocks of butter cut in will give you the same effect. I have found that grating the butter gives great distribution in the pastry with a very flaky end result – BINGO! Now add most of the water and blend until just combined. Turn the mixture out onto your working surface and bring together the dough by kneading it into a ball, using more water if needed. Separate the ball into two with one just a bit bigger then other and shape them both into flat-ish discs. Cover separately with plastic wrap and retire them to the fridge to rest for at least an hour.

     

    Step Two: the filling. (Plus turn on your oven to 425°F now to preheat it)

    5 cups Saskatoon berries – 3 tbsp flour – ⅓ cup sugar – zest of a lemon (optional)

    • Combine everything together, easy-peasy.

     

    Step 3: build your pie.

    • Take the smaller disc out of the fridge and place it on a floured surface. Grab your rolling pin and push the disc out to about a ¼“ thick and place into your pie plate. Pour those prepped Saskatoons in next! Scatter a few slivers of butter over the top of the berries. Grab the last disc and flatten it out to the same thickness as the bottom, re-flouring the surface if needed. The reason for the last dough disc being a bit bigger is that the filling of your pie usually makes a mini mountain and you want to ensure you’ve got plenty of dough to blanket the whole hill, and then some. Before layering on the dough topper, wet the edge of the bottom dough with water – this helps them stick together. Crimp, roll or pinch the dough layers together. Brush the top of the pie with a beaten egg and slice a few air holes into the top.

     

     

     

     

    Step Quatro: Bake and wait.

    • Place your pie on a baking sheet and into your preheated oven. Bake at the preheated 425°F for 15 minutes then lower the temperature to 350°F for an addition 45-60min or until the crust is golden brown. Cool on a wire rack.

     

    Step Five: eat now or freeze for later.

    • I chose to freeze my pie and savor it later this fall with friends when we’re craving a taste of summer. Luckily, I saved a bit of the filling and had just enough left over dough to make 4 mini tarts. They were consumed quite quickly.

     

     

     

     

    There is a CBC story that recalls a visit by the Duke of Edinburgh to a small town in the Yukon many moons ago. He stops for a meal at a local diner and as the waitress reaches to remove his dinner plate she warmly says to him, “Save your fork Duke, there’s pie”.

     

    Wives’ tale or not the phrase has stuck with us for generations… and this pie for sure warrants saving your fork.

  • Nootka Rose Jelly

    Nootka Rose Jelly

    For me the art of slowing down and smelling the roses has turned into taking advantage of the surplus of this native shrub behind my house, plucking their petals and creating something delicious. As it is in my garden where I rarely follow my planting plans the same holds true to my style of cooking; recipes are but a base. I’ll admit my first batch, from a recipe I followed, did not set. This led me to taking matters into my own hands, going with the flow and trusting my strong sense of jamming. So, queue up some Bob Marley as I guide you to making your very own wild rose jelly.

    INGREDIENTS

    ≈4 cups wild rose petals, lightly packed

    4½ cups boiling water

    ¼ cup fresh lemon juice

    5½ cups sugar

    2 pkgs liquid pectin

    Other: cheesecloth, jars, lids, tops, a big pot & lots of love

    Start by foraging for rose petals: try to pick in areas away from the roadside and pick higher then a dog may pee! Give them a small bath in the sink to get rid of the majority of bigger bugs and pick out any of the greens. Don’t stress too much about getting everything, as you’ll end up straining the lot later. Place them in a nonreactive bowl, cover with the boiling water and allow steep for 1-2hrs. The petals will lose their colour and look quite dull but patience is key here.

     

    While your petals are steeping prepare your jelly vessels. This recipe makes approximately 8-9 cups of liquid gold; I use a mishmash of 125ml and 250ml jars and usually prepare a few more then what’s needed, just incase. Wash every thing then put the lids and tops in a pot submerged in water and place on the stove over medium-high heat. Jars can go on a cookie sheet in the oven at 250°F. You want these to sit in their respective mediums for at least an hour.

    When you’re satisfied with how long the petals have steeped or you can’t wait any longer get ready for some magic. Add the lemon juice and watch the water go from blah to vibrant pink! It’s science.

     

    Pour the petals and water through a strainer lined with cheesecloth straight into a big pot squeezing all the liquid out that you can. You want 4 cups of rose water; if you’re a bit short just add a bit of filtered water. I found this recipe made the right amount of water so you should be fine but feel free to measure if you’re not sure. I like to wing things. Add the sugar and bring up to a boil, stirring to ensure all the sugar incorporates into the rose water. Once at a  hard boil keep it here for 2 minutes skimming any foam off the top. After the time has elapsed remove from the heat, add the pectin and stir to combine for 5-6 minutes – no less – more is okay but no less.

    Now you’re ready to put your creation into jars and await the sweet satisfying sound of popping lids. Some recipes call for a water bath to finish the canning process but I’ve never done that. I just go with what my mom taught me, which is what’s outlined here, and it’s never failed me just like her.

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    This simple tasty treat can be enjoyed may ways but my favourite thus far is on coconut ice cream or straight out of the jar… Happy jammin’!

  • May Two-Four

    May Two-Four

    There are essentially a couple groups you would’ve fallen into this past weekend: camping, working or planting your garden (ideally a combo). No doubt in my younger years I was way more into packing the truck with a tent, sleeping material, coolers full of beer, sausages, buns, ketchup, cans of beans and chips – lots of chips – and getting the hell outta of Dodge. Now as I age “gracefully” my focus has changed or maybe temporarily wandered and there is also that work thing. The exception is chips; there will always be lots of chips.

    But let’s focus on gardening… What is it about the May long weekend, no matter where you are in Canada, it’s viewed as “the time to plant your garden”? Surely it’s some sort of phenomenon or maybe a myth.

    Firstly, I’d like to draw your attention to a key fact. Our growing zone here in Pemberton is radically different from that of my family in Kenora, Ontario and those in Nova Scotia and Newfoundland. Yet, we all assume it’s totally kosher to plant tomatoes and basically everything else outside the same weekend. We can all also agree that one of our garden’s biggest nemeses is frost. So really, by accepting this planting time frame we are all pretty much assuming that frost is off the plate as of May long weekend. Hereby committing our plants to a life outside producing us a bountiful harvest.

    It’s as if the universe is giving us a chance to all exist on the same plane for a mere moment in time; I’ll take it.

    Here in Pemberton the mercury levels on our thermometers have been reading higher then normal for May. Which has made it easy to get crazy and just start sowing things. And, of course, I am all for this and 100% participated. It speaks to that whole experimental element in gardening that I love. You just have to be ready to face the fact that some things may not survive. Like a game of Monopoly; sometime you pass go and collect $200 and sometime you go to jail. I’m willing to bet the vegetables that prefer the cooler growing season of spring are probably wondering this year like the rest of us why it’s July’ing in May.

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    Early direct sow experiment with Borage… Status: alive & thriving. Stoked to have this gem in my garden this season.

    Don’t get me wrong, I’m not complaining about the sunshine and the extra early lake dips but I am hot and bothered that my garden already needs to be watered twice a day… I genuinely miss Spring – She was super cool.

  • Blank Canvas

    Blank Canvas

    The summer I turned 11, my family packed our camper and set off on a massive adventure that lasted over a month. The leg of our trip that resonated the most with me was the coast of BC. There was something about the mountains and ocean that spoke to me – it made me feel free. I vowed right then that I would return to live in this place.

    Life on the west coast became a reality when my art skills got me into the University of Victoria. However, I quickly discovered I was not like my classmates and had zero desire to become any entity that encompassed being an artist. I lasted 2 years before I bought a car, learned to drive standard in a mall parking lot and set forth for Whistler because it seemed like a cool place to go and get lost.

    Fast forward to my years in landscape construction and maintenance where I learned design and plant knowledge and in time I was let loose to create spaces for clients. These playful experiences naturally paired well with my understanding colour and sense of flow. Eventually I realized that I was still creating; it was just a different type of medium.

    Now I spend countless hours every year drafting my garden plans for the following season. Notes on notes on notes as to what was great, what was horrible, where to plant what, what not to plant, what I want more of. Lots of mindless staring out the window at my plot fantasizing its potential; then scavenging bits of wood and rocks to add into the landscape. And, like clockwork when it comes to planting time, the plans that have come to fruition are loosely used and I stuff seeds and starters in the beds as I see fit.

    Maybe it’s the old artist in me coming out to play and wanting to just be free to experiment with what feels good at the last minute. This is an integral part of the learning process in gardening and I highly encourage it. Sure we can read books and learn what we should or shouldn’t do but at the end of the day if we are satisfied with the results then, who gives a shit.

    Feel it out. Plant what makes sense. Plant what you love. Look at your space and see it as a blank canvas in which to create your sanctuary. It can be whatever you want it to be. Let it evolve. You can always return to your canvas and paint over something you don’t love.

    Eighteen year later since arriving home in the Sea to Sky I have finally accepted that I’m a gardener and a landscaper: an artist after all.

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    Photo notes – The main photo (above) was taken out the window when I moved into our current residence from where I sit every day drinking coffee. The picture below was taken this morning and I can guarantee in a month it will look even different. Stay tuned! IMG_3346

  • Honor Thy Weeding

    Honor Thy Weeding

    It’s funny how life can throw us curveballs when we least expect. Call it coincidence that I have struck out during a season that literally celebrates rebirth and renewal. But as the saying goes; everything happens for a reason. What has kept me sane is my garden.

    When you’re forced to slow down in a life that is typically robust it’s truly hard to cope – every day brings new challenges. Many of which I am not comfortable with and have had a hard time accepting.

    So, what does an active gal do when forced to step outside of her skin and just be?

    She sits with her garlic. She weeds. She envisions where all the little seedling starters will eventually go and thrive. She checks on these seedlings at least 20 times a day. She walks and appreciates the revival of the forest after a long winter. She watches the ants. She buys plants (retail therapy for the win).

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    A calming sensation genuinely lifts me up when I’m gardening. It’s my therapy. No stress involved – just the dirt and me. It has always been this way: before I was concussed, now while I’m concussed, and indefinitely when I’m past it.

    There is something to be said about stopping to smell the roses. Going back to the simpler things gives us a greater appreciation of the bigger picture. Through my minor setback I have learned the importance of this phrase and will celebrate it beyond my recovery. Gardening has an effortless way of healing.

    Spring. I surrender my ego to you… and the weeds in my garden.

  • Passion Prevails

    Passion Prevails

    My childhood subconscious began manifesting my green thumb life long before I understood the benefit of my compost chore or using the excuse, “I’m thinning them out” when caught eating baby carrots. When you grow up surrounded by gardeners you’re bound to inherit some level of love for the same hobby.

    Basically, I’m a full pledged geek when it comes to everything plant related.

    For example… I have pulled illegal U-turns moments after spotting a nursery. I carry pruners in my car to pluck wild flowers bouquets from ditches. I save plants from becoming garbage and give them new homes. I take pictures while traveling of unrecognizable vegetation so I can come home and identify them… and so on.

    (Insert crazy garden lady photo here.)

    It was during my years as an on again off again landscaper that solidified my love affair with horticulture. The jobs I held in between seasons never really satisfied my soul. I genuinely missed cleaning dirt out of my nails.

    One instance that really stands out in my head happened while emptying my pockets after a day of work in the city. Out came my keys, my wallet and a whole bunch of deadheaded flowers. A big smile graced my face upon seeing the blossoms. I had visited a nursery on my way home but for the life of me could not remember committing the act. No doubt it was my subconscious giving me a little nudge. I gave my two weeks notice the next day and promptly returned to my happy place slinging dirt.

    Now I’ve really come to realize that I glow when I talk about gardening. I mean I get giddy like a little schoolgirl talking about this shit. (Giggity)! The other side of my coin is that I love to cook and preserve all the wonderful things that come out of my backyard and our bountiful valley but I’ll save that for later.

    In January I figured there was no point in fighting the feelings anymore. Time to take my passion by the reins and just go for it! And although I’m not exactly sure what will grow from this adventure one thing is for sure: I want to share my love of gardening with people, inspire them to grow their own food and experience the simple pleasures that come with the failures and the successes along the way.

    Welcome to my journey back to dirt.