rosemary and thyme bread

I'm playing hooky today. I emailed out sick to my volunteer job early this morning, and I've had a couple of moments of chest-tightening guilt and anxiety about it, but I still don't regret it. Last week was a rough one, in which I cleaned up all of the things that can come out of a human; there were seizures and choking (I actually did ask, "ARE YOU CHOKING?"), and more unpleasantness, and uh, I had sort of a moment when I was like, "dudes...I'm not getting paid, so I'm getting out of here". It made me realize that I could never get paid to do this kind of work, because seriously, guys - how does a person clean up someone else's vomit without retching?  What if that vomit had turkey bones in it? (*shudder*) I do maintain that it's important - no, essential - to have something to do with one's day, even if it kinda sucks the life out of you and sometimes makes you dry heave. Something to dread going to is crucial to fully appreciate the time one isn't at that place...like the times when one pretends that she is sick.

I've had a really great time so far today, reading things (mostly about the planned parenthood thing, I can't get enough of it) and listening to things (Marc Maron's WTF, and RISK!, a storytelling podcast hosted by Kevin Allison - the "redhead gay" from The State) and watching things (Downton Abbey! May that show go on forever and ever). After I post this, I plan on going in the pool on our property for the first time. We've never seen anyone maintaining it, so we were a little wary (read: Leah forbade it) to take a dip in case there were any brain-eating amoebas making a home for themselves in the water. Luckily, our neighbors were ignorant of the possible horrors and have been swimming many times.  It's been a couple of weeks now since we first saw them out there, and I am happy to report they are still alive and seem to have their brains intact. Which is good for them, of course, and now we (read: Leah will never go in there) can swim!


I cooked some things today, too, of course. The main event was making bread, which I haven't done since we moved here, and hoo boy. So delicious. I got this recipe from this person who's probably really famous but I've only just stumbled upon today - the pioneer woman? (http://thepioneerwoman.com/)  Who is this woman and how does she have the time to do all the things she does? She probably never plays hooky.

Ingredients

• 20 ounces bread flour, about 4 cups (I used that delicious whole wheat flour and regular all purpose flour)
• 8 ounces water
• 4 ounces melted butter, chopped herbs of choice (I used thyme and rosemary, about 2 tablespoons)
• 2 teaspoons salt
• 1 teaspoon  instant yeast

Preparation Instructions

Combine all ingredients together in the KitchenAid stand mixer with the dough hook for about 10 minutes or until the so-called "windowpane" test shows you've kneaded it enough (I did it by hand here and it took about 12 minutes).

Form the kneaded dough into a ball and set in an oiled bowl; cover with plastic wrap. Allow to double in size, about 1-3 hours.

Preheat oven to 450 degrees.

Grease a dutch oven with olive oil. Punch down risen dough and form into a ball, then roll the ball around in the oiled skillet. Sprinkle kosher/coarse salt on top and cut a large "X" into surface of bread dough.
Bake on the center rack of your over for 30 minutes with the lid on, them remove the lid to finish it off for another 15 to 30 minutes (check for golden-ness).

I removed it immediately from the pan because I thought the bottom was burning (it was, a little, but not terribly). My loaf looks absolutely nothing like the pictures on that lady's site, but I am not at all disappointed.

All the passionfruits are above average

Hi guys! I'm writing this post just in case I don't get another chance before the semester engulfs me like it's a macrophage and I'm an opsonized antigen.

I hope this doesn't sound like a bright-siding exercise to cheer ourselves up because stuff in general is bad. We'd move back to the States in a heartbeat - don't get us wrong - but these are things about St. Kitts that legitimately and non-relativistically make us want to take our clothes off and roll around, they're so good.  These are the things that we'll say, "Remember that..." about when we're on our porch in rocking chairs in fifty years. These are the few small things we humbly suggest you should be jealous of. We've been talking about this blog entry for weeks, and I'm probably forgetting some stuff, but here goes:

Passionfruit
Let me tell you the secret to picking a good passionfruit: pick any passionfruit. No matter what the outside looks like, the inside will be flawless. They're grapefruity but different, slightly salty, the seeds are crunchy, and the name has to come from the silky, slimy, suggestive flesh.  They haunt my dreams. Laura got 8 of them yesterday for EC$5. (Less than US$2.)

Easy Bake whole wheat flour
What's really in this stuff? Who cares! It tastes like graham crackers, and when combined with some milk, molasses, baking powder, and the next item on the list, produces the most delicious pancakes I've ever eaten. (We had them this morning.)

Eggs

The chicken from the grocery stores here is a little tough and weird, but the eggs are cheap, thick shelled, irregularly shaped, bright yolked, and delicious. There are hens running around everywhere, which probably explains both.

Bananas

The bananas are soft and sweet and mild, like something a spoiled baby monkey would eat. Some are from St. Kitts, but the better ones are from Dominica, I think. And they're cheap. We put them on the pancakes.

Critters
Oh my god, the critters.

Zenaida doves

Hummingbird

Green vervet monkeys

Goat

More goats

Anole

Another kind of anole

Well, that took me all day. That's not all (of the critters), but you get the idea. 

red lentil and winter squash stew; cable woes

We live off campus now in our very own apartment. It's a not-fancy one bedroom just a mile down the road from Ross, and in the week Leah lived here before I came down, she made everything gleaming and spotless and homey. We didn't realize that the kitchen cabinets and counters were not, in fact, beige - some bleach and Leah's elbow grease revealed that they're actually sparkly white! We brought some of our own things from home, too, like rugs and curtains and framed pictures, to make it feel more like ours. And it does! It is bright and breezy and it feels really good in here.  Our apartment is part of an old, somewhat dilapidated, budget vacation rental situation. The owners live on the property and rent out the six still-intact units to Ross students (the other six units, upon snooping and pressing our noses to the dusty windows, seem to be in a state of suspended renovation).  The owners are an older couple. The wife, Ruth, is British, and must be around 70; she hobbles a bit because of constant sciatic nerve pain and bad hips. Her husband, Wilfred, is Kittitian and he seems older than her, but pretty spry, still. I think they obtain most of their income from operating a horseback riding business (in the morning, if we're lucky and they've booked riding tours, we see about a half dozen horse butts out of our bedroom window). They offer riding on the beach and in the rainforest, I think mostly to cruise passengers on pre-booked excursions. I know when they have riders coming, though - Ruth's shrill voice calls constantly to Poppy, a younger but still not very young guy who is their maintenance man and riding guide: "Poppy! Poppy, have you saddled the horses yet?" "Poppy? Poppy! Put your shirt on, they're going to be here soon" "Poppy! Poppy, please put your shirt on!" It sounds very tense and exciting, like the moment before company comes and your mother yells at you to do some last-minute thing. And then the riders arrive and everyone is quieter and very friendly, and Poppy is introduced and off they go, into the mountain. Leah and I are going to book a tour someday soon, because she's never been on a horse ("I'm Jewish", she explains).

It's my job to set up the utilities, because Leah's at class all day and I can't claim to have much better to do. We're still working on getting the voice-over-internet phone so that we can make cheaper calls home, and also so that people can call us, but the cable company (which is called, by the way, "The Cable" - that's the name of the company, for real) has been, erm, challenging.  Waiting for a cable guy is an annoyance in any country, surely. I usually feel trapped in my apartment, afraid to go to the bathroom in case I don't hear the buzzer, and the dude inevitably shows up five minutes before the end of his six hour time window. But trying to get the internet and phone installed in St. Kitts has been mind-blowingly frustrating - like the level of awful service is so unbelievable that it makes me want to blow my brains out.  Today marks the third day of my waiting for the very specific "before the afternoon" scheduled installation, and the third day I called to ask, "Um, is the technician coming today?" The phone calls haven't been easy, either.  I've waited on hold for hours now, eating up the pre-paid minutes on my little cell phone - calling land lines from a cell is very expensive - getting hung up on, transferred to lines that just ring and ring, listening to the same song over and over (a rip-off of Time Warner's "triple play" rap from a few years ago which segues into a praising Jesus gospelly number). And every day, including today, someone tells me that they don't have me scheduled, we'll have to do it on ______ (the next business day).  I confirm; for example: "Okay, so you lost my order again. You are going to be here to install the phone tomorrow in the morning, yes? Mmmhmm, tomorrow, Tuesday, hopefully before noon. Great, see you tomorrow before noon!" No one has offered even the courtesy apology, a head tilted to the side slow shake, an insincere, "so sorry", whatever.  I am trying my darndest to be more laid back or feel less freakin' entitled. It's hard. Really, I just want to be able to call my sister, and going a week without talking to her about every single thing has just been weird.  Being able to leave the apartment, while it is lovely, would probably feel pretty good, too.

In my time waiting for the cable guy these past few days, I've made a bunch of foods for the week: many soups and stews from homemade chicken and vegetable stocks, daal and curries and vegetables roasted and steamed and slawed. One of my favorite one-pot recipes is a hearty red lentil and chickpea dish with cubed butternut squash. It's great for winter, for all of you who are fuh-reezing cold right now. The weather here has been cooler, too, with temperatures dipping into the 70s, even!

Here's that recipe:

Winter Squash and Red Lentil Stew

1 tablespoon olive oil
3 medium carrots, sliced 1/2 inch thick
1 cup chopped onion (1 large)
1 green chile pepper, minced
1 pound pumpkin or winter squash, peeled (or not), seeded, and cut into 1-inch cubes
1 15-ounce can chickpeas (garbanzo beans), rinsed and drained
1 cup red lentils, rinsed and drained
2 tablespoons tomato paste
1 tablespoon grated fresh ginger
1 tablespoon lime juice
1 teaspoon ground cumin
1/4 teaspoon salt
1/4 teaspoon ground turmeric
1/4 teaspoon ground black pepper
4 cups chicken or vegetable broth
1/4 cup chopped peanuts (optional)
2 tablespoons chopped fresh cilantro


In a large Dutch oven or soup pot, heat oil over moderately-high heat. Add onions and carrots and chile and cook until beginning to soften. Stir in broth, winter squash, lentils, chickpeas, tomato paste, ginger, cumin, salt, turmeric, and pepper. Bring to a boil, then reduce heat and simmer until squash is tender and lentils are beginning to fall apart, about 15 minutes. Stir in lime juice, and ladle into bowls, topped with cilantro and peanuts.

*ps - sorry, no pictures for right now, but I'll have some up soon!