When my sister and her family were here for a few days prior to Ruhiyyih's wedding everyone hovered in the kitchen. This is Kendra, my nephew's wife, helping with preparations for lunch. We had to bring something for a potluck lunch at Annie's and a dinner potluck at Laurel's, so all of us got busy preparing a variety of dishes. I made soup, Rahmat stirred up an east-Indian curry, and George filled in as prep-cook, chopping onions and sharpening knives. It was a blurr of activity as all of us danced around each other attending to our projects.
We steamed up the kitchen with our broths, vegetables and curry, helping each other with sudden tasks like opening cans of beans and finding spices. Had I known ahead of time, I would have soaked our own black and white beans for Rahmat's curry. But, at the last minute I raided the pantry, and he was all set. 
I filled out my soup by adding these green beans, which I had canned just a month ago. My sister said my soup was good, but it was the strangest combination of corn chipotle, chorizo, previously frozen kale soup, and the green beans. It never fails to amaze me that when one is desperate to throw something together for a pot-luck, there is always a bit of this and that which comes to the rescue.
Rahmat's curry was a hit. He said he makes this for himself throughout the week. He asked for spices, so I rumaged through my cupboard (George has his spices in a rack near the stove, mine are kept in a cupboard in the dark). I located some cumin, garam masala, tumeric, and a little paunch poran. This last spice should be roasted at the end of the cooking, so that all the seeds explode and the flavor is at its peak.
It is unsettling when family come to visit. I want to cook so many things but ultimately find myself sitting and chatting and letting George do all the cooking. He is an exceptionally good cook - much better than I am. I enjoy experiments and exploring cultures, but he is best at the everyday fare, simple comfort foods.
I made crepes before my company arrived.
I've found that making them ahead of time is more efficient. 
Once filled with cherries and cream cheese, a little ricotta and powdered sugar, breakfast is ready in half the time.
While my sister and her daughter were here I showed them how to make farmer's cheese, which can be used as a type of chunky, cream or powdered cheese depending on how you handle it. We also made malloraddus, the Sardinian pasta which is rolled on a bamboo mat to create the lines. In Sardinia a malloraddus board is used, with little grooves, but one can make their own using a simple bamboo mat. I found several more of these at the Goodwill, and we made the grooved container for my sister.I served bucatini rigati with shredded smoked salmon while they were here. This southern Italian spaghetti has a tiny hole throughout, like a straw, making the spaghetti larger and chewier. A similar type of pasta is made in Sardinia. The long strands are rolled out, then cut into one inch segments. 
A wire is then pressed onto the top of the segment and the sides are collected and rolled up over the top. The pasta then slides off the wire - I used a coat hanger wire, but even a thin bamboo skewer will work fine.
It is a time-consuming process, but very simple, and I listened to Eckhart Tolle's "Stillness Speaks" while I carefully made my pasta and set them to dry on a soft towel. The empty mind, free of thought or feeling, which he describes as an exquisite state of being, is surely fostered by the meticulous process of making one's own pasta on a quiet winter afternoon. The enthusiasm and chatter of our guests in the kitchen was gone, and I felt a wistfulness at just how empty a kitchen can feel when the celebration is over! It is surely a grace, when little pastas settling in a dish can bring me back to life!
I let the pasta dry out for only a day, then I made a tasty meal - bucatini pasta with sauce made from vegetables from the garden. It was so good - vegetables grown in my garden, home-canned pasta sauce and farmer's cheese.
More here, by Katherine Hall.
Anthony Bourdain said of Pane Carasau, "You just can't get this in New York!", and he was right about that! You can't experience this crispy Sardinian flat-bread unless you grow the rosemary (I do), collect salt from the sea, and bake/blister this bread in an old wood-burning oven.
In Sardinia they remove the flat-bread from the oven halfway through baking and cut it in half. It is then reinserted into the oven and baked, all of which takes only a fraction of a minute. There are several women helping with the bread. One woman rolls the bread, another bakes it, and another woman cuts the bread in half separating both sides from each other. It is then baked again and flattened to press out all the bubbles. (I left the bread whole.)
I fell in love with the process of baking Pane Carasau when I watched this segment on Anthony Bourdain's "No Reservations". The ancient garb of the women, the glowing embers of the fire, the prayers before kneading the dough, and that ancient crackle of the bread as it is broken to be used as a plate or utensil were mesmerizing. I wanted that experience, regardless of the outcome of the bread!
I mixed the two flours, part white and part semolina, and piled them into a mound on my counter, making a little well in the center.
Then I added the water and yeast, and mixed the batter into a mound so I could knead the dough.
The dough is divided into portions then rolled so thin you almost see through the dough. Don't worry if the shape is uneven as that is part of the charm of this flat-bread.
A baking stone is needed in the oven - I use an old floor tile - and the oven is set at 450 degrees. This is an extremely hot oven, and since you slide the bread onto the stone and turn it halfway through you will come to understand that an outdoor oven works best. The heat will escape the oven as you flip the bread and it will warm the kitchen.
At some point toward the end of the baking my smoke alarm started screeching and burping in complete exasperation. I'd no sooner get the flat-bread onto the stone, spray a bit of olive oil on top, and I'd have to close the oven door and grab a towel. I'd vigorously fan the alarm four feet away, and then drop the towel and grab my oven mitts. I felt almost like a lunatic, carried away in a frenzy of imagination and joy. The beautiful Pane Carasau, called the music bread because of its crackle as you break it, had captured my heart.
"Carta de Musica", I baked round after round, then sprayed the bread again with olive oil. 
I left the flat-breads whole and piled them up onto my skillet, with the pile getting higher and higher.Much like an ornate cracker, Pane Carasau was baked for the lonely shepherds who would carry it out to their pastures. It would keep for a year and could be moistened with tomato juice to make a thin soft lasagna. An egg and anything handy from the meadow would be placed on top for breakfast. When Ruhiyyih and Matt were here, I made them this ancient Sardinian breakfast called Pane Frattau.
Sardinian cuisine is a hybrid of influences, starting with the Phoenicians, followed by Carthaginians, Romans, Arabs, Moors, the Spanish, and then other Mediterranean powers. This layered culinary heritage is epitomized by the ancient Pane Carasau, a profoundly beautiful flat-bread baked for more than 2,500 years.
Our daughter Ruhiyyih married Matt last Saturday in a beautiful ceremony with family and friends. (
More photos by photographer Katherine Hall in her blog Shutterblog.)
My favorite moment of Matt and Ruhiyyih was the kiss, because when he swept her into his arms there was barely a dry eye in the room. An entire community of friends and well-wishers made her wedding so memorable and lovely. ( I'll wait for Ruhiyyih to share the details, when she has time to do so.)
Here my sister is trying to put earrings on me. She said, "You've got wrinkled ole lady ears Bonita, and I can't get it on!" We fussed and struggled, and finally somebody popped them in... little diamond studs that Ruhiyyih wanted me to keep for her. I figured they'd get lost in my pocket, so I wore them.
The first day of their marriage I lighted altar candles as a way of keeping Matt and Ruhiyyih in my prayers. They've been lighted every day as a remembrance.
I stuffed the tortelli with homemade farmer's cheese seasoned with caraway, and cooked Swiss chard which is pressed and squeezed to remove all juice. Both pastas were served with my garden pasta sauce and a little Parmesan cheese.
Friends from the Baha'i Black Men's Gathering enjoyed the fellowship in our home during our 17th Intensive Program of Growth on the weekend. Both days were filled with outreach projects in the Hilltop community here in Tacoma.
The thrust of our presentation is to offer services to families, in their homes and neighborhoods in an effort to build a more unified and secure environment for everyone, especially children and youth.
If the children can have a systematic level of care throughout their formative years it places them at a distinct advantage to grow in more positive and loving ways. Families awaken to the potential of their children, and hope and achievement are activated within the child, youth build social skills when involved in service projects, and everyone gets connected at a deeper, more spiritualized level. It is hoped that this approach will not only bring about a more committed level of care for families, but that it will ultimately build resources for neighborhoods and empower people who have been disheartened by poverty and crime.
Once a child lives with hope and understands their potential to create a better life, they must have a support group within the neighborhood, composed of families of all backgrounds and persuasions, of any religion, with the goal of working together to build a better community. That is the primary goal of our Intensive Phase of Growth. It is our job to provide the resources and get the programs in place.
George took 43 videos and 87 photographs over the weekend which are in our Flicker account. One can listen in on the consultation, enjoy the music (Jonathan performs an African chant), and even imagine the aroma in my kitchen!
Meals were provided for the weekend, but I did manage to make an unusual bread pudding. I'd made a sweet-potato cookie for Feast which was an utter flop so I didn't serve it. Rather than throw all of the cookies away, I broke them up and added them to bread, milk, eggs, butter, vanilla, nutmeg and cinnamon, and placed some raisins and fresh peaches on top, and baked the whole thing.
The sweet-potato bread pudding turned out great! It just goes to show that disasters in the kitchen can become heavenly when transformed...and that was basically the whole point of our weekend. Spiritual transformation builds healthy communities.
I'll close with this photo of my friend Nancy. She brought me the sweet-potatoes - about 2 gallons of them pureed and sweetened. 
Nancy is Hawaiian, and always wore her beautiful black hair long, which is the custom. So when I saw her with her head shaved, I was shocked. This was so unlike her! When I asked her about it, she said one of her close friends was undergoing chemotherapy and she wanted to provide support. So she shaved her head to show her friend that she cared.
George came home from work on Friday complaining of chest pain and tightness. He brought his lunch box in from the car and said he hadn't eaten all day. Said he had a fever.
I immediately thought of his asthma but knew this was probably something else, maybe pleurisy. I told him to drive to the Multicare Emergency Clinic over on 26th and Pearl, about 4 or 5 miles away. I wanted to make sure it was not swine flu or something.
While I cleaned up my kitchen - I was in the middle of canning green beans - I waited for him to return. But no phone call. It wasn't until almost 9:00 that he called, using a fireman's emergency phone. They loaded him up into an ambulance, and as he mentioned that the initial assessment was pleurisy, I said, "Well, I figured that."
I wasn't too worried about him, but he had to leave my car in the parking lot at the clinic, and that concerned me, so I told him I'd walk over there in the morning and pick it up. End of conversation, end of worry over George.
I went to bed, thinking I'd pick him up at Tacoma General the next day. Locked the doors, left the light burning in the den...and darn it, it is spooky sleeping all alone in a quiet house! All of a sudden I was all ears, alert to every sound in the neighborhood, the guys partying across the street, the cats standing-off and hissing in the back yard, cars driving by sending vibrations through the house. I turned up the sound machine to the sound of rain, and pulled a comforter around my ears.
Sometime after midnight I heard the bedroom door open, and George said, "It's just ME". He (didn't want to get shot) didn't want to frighten me. He crawled into bed, mentioning that he walked home in the dark....uphill....through Hilltop, about three miles. He said it was tough at first (well, yes, I guess you could expect that with pleurisy!) and he thought about flagging a taxi that drove by. But, the neighborhood walk was done so quickly, he just kept going.
He slept late the following morning, and I got busy in the kitchen. 
I cut up a butternut squash and made soup.
That done, I made a sauce for my home-made ravioli parmesan.
These ravioli are made the day before and left to rest overnight.
They are stuffed with home-made farmer's cheese and Swiss chard.
On Sunday I got out my tagine, made a broth for pot-roast, and let the beef simmer all afternoon. 
I made biscuits to sop up the sauce. He really liked this meal, saying that the aroma was 'killing him' all afternoon. Finally about 4:00 I served him a bowl before I headed over to pick vegetables in my garden.
I've been canning cabbage slaw, both green and red, and also a bean-cauliflower-carrot salad.
A friend brought over about a gallon of sweet-potato puree, so I froze it in quart size packets, ready for cookies or a pie. This is a good time of the year for pumpkin cookies. I made some of those for a coffee break, using the sweet-potato puree, and George packed some of them in his lunch today.
He is doing fine, and following doctor's orders. He's got his appetite back and is enjoying all the left-overs.
Walter, Markel and Peggy came over last night for our Devotional, and while the guys discussed religion out in the living room, Peggy stood by my sink and stove while I chopped Romano beans and canned them. I told her I was drowning in beans.
The last two quart jars I simmered until just barely cooked, then I sealed them and didn't process them, as I want to use them within a few weeks for a marinated salad. They sealed with a loud pop while she and I visited in the den.
I'd spent the day cooking - made some cream cheese to spread on toast, roasted a large tray of vegetables to put on top; made cornbread, served with honey; then made a big pot of squash soup.
I don't know why I call it that, as it had turnips, chard, eggplant, beans, potatoes, garbanzos, carrots and celery, onions and garlic. However, I'd initially intended just squash soup, using a large butternut I had on hand.
I chopped these chard stems and threw them into the pot, too. I'm going to use the chard leaves for the innards of a Sardinian ravioli called 'Ravioli con Verdura' which is stuffed with ricotta and greens. I'll use my home-made cheese and the chard.
This was one of the paintings that Walter brought for the Devotional. I had to scrunch down to look at the detail. He'd laced some of the lines with gold paint, and the effect (with all of the outrageous light in the room that George needs to make a photograph) was nice. I recall adding gel sparkle to a few of my food photos in my cookbook, to enhance the sparkle on the edge of a crepe. Artists try to bring things alive, and that sure worked.
We heard that some colder weather is headed this way, so we picked more of the produce from my garden. What is shown here will be used for squash soup, root soup, salsa and roasted vegetables. Some of it will be prepared and frozen, to be enjoyed later.I've been reading through some of my cookbooks for recipes, especially those from the Mediterranean: Lots of fresh vegetables, fruit, whole grains, seeds and nuts, fish, meat as flavoring, and olive oil. Add to this a little home-made farmer's cheese and yogurt, and you pretty much have our diet. Wonderful God-given abundance and flavors that are unforgettable.
However, the greatest inspiration for 'feasting like there is no tomorrow' is Anthony Bourdain's "No Reservations".
He celebrates and explores ethnic food and the culture that shapes it. His energy and joy are contageous, and have had a tremendous impact on my cooking.
This past year Bourdain visited Sardinia, the homeland of his wife, Ottavia Busia. They sat outside in a patio overlooking the Mediterranean, browsed a local food market, and had a magnificent meal in the home of a family friend.
What wonderful platters of food: the hand-made pasta called Malloreddus served with wild boar; the salt-cured fish roe called Bottarga sprinkled over spaghetti; and all varieties of fish, shellfish, and lobster. As the platter of Malloreddus was served, and the Bottarga, Bourdain said, "If you could smell this you'd be happily biting and snapping your way through your TV screen."
Bottarga, the egg roe from silver mullet, is cured in salt then waxed until it hardens. It is sliced and fried in olive oil with garlic. Part of the Bottarga is shaved into a powder, which is sprinkled onto the oiled pasta. No sauce is used, as the fishy aroma and flavor of the Bottarga is all that is necessary.
I couldn't find fish roe locally, of course, but it can be ordered online. I used a substitution: Smoked Salmon, on sale at Tacoma Boys. I shaved it thin and then put it through my food grinder so that the end result was a light powder. To brown it and crisp it up like bacon I oven-roasted the shaved powder until it was a light brown.
Then it was sprinkled on top of cooked, oiled (Olive Oil) bucatini #6.
I roasted tiny eggplants, carrots and onions from my garden, and mixed them into the pasta. Simple, easy, so good.
I also roasted some of my butternut squash, and added eggplant alongside, dotted with walnuts. This was a bedtime snack.I saw my physican this week for my annual check-up. He always hands out a print-out, of suggestions and tips. He recommended that I read "The China Study" by Dr. T. Colin Campbell. A nutritionist and research scientist, Dr.Campbell concludes that people who ate the most plant-based foods are the healthiest and tend to avoid chronic disease, and people who ate the most animal based foods got the most chronic disease. He cautions: Change your diet and dramatically reduce the risk of cancer, diabetes, heart disease and obesity. This has got me wondering where Bourdain, crazy in love with pork, (and years of drug usage), has done so well - he looks so energized, happy and healthy. I guess he says it the way it truly is: "I've had three or four full lives already most of which I was surprised to find I survived! This is like bonus round undeserved probably, but like some insane pinball machine, life keeps kickin' out extra points, regardless of how I played it."
When my sister and her family were here for a few days prior to Ruhiyyih's wedding everyone hovered in the kitchen. This is Kendra, my nephew's wife, helping with preparations for lunch. 
We steamed up the kitchen with our broths, vegetables and curry, helping each other with sudden tasks like opening cans of beans and finding spices. Had I known ahead of time, I would have soaked our own black and white beans for Rahmat's curry. But, at the last minute I raided the pantry, and he was all set. 
I filled out my soup by adding these green beans, which I had canned just a month ago. My sister said my soup was good, but it was the strangest combination of corn chipotle, chorizo, previously frozen kale soup, and the green beans. It never fails to amaze me that when one is desperate to throw something together for a pot-luck, there is always a bit of this and that which comes to the rescue. 
Rahmat's curry was a hit. He said he makes this for himself throughout the week. He asked for spices, so I rumaged through my cupboard (George has his spices in a rack near the stove, mine are kept in a cupboard in the dark). I located some cumin, garam masala, tumeric, and a little paunch poran. This last spice should be roasted at the end of the cooking, so that all the seeds explode and the flavor is at its peak. 
Once filled with cherries and cream cheese, a little ricotta and powdered sugar, breakfast is ready in half the time. 
While my sister and her daughter were here I showed them how to make farmer's cheese, which can be used as a type of chunky, cream or powdered cheese depending on how you handle it. We also made malloraddus, the Sardinian pasta which is rolled on a bamboo mat to create the lines. In Sardinia a malloraddus board is used, with little grooves, but one can make their own using a simple bamboo mat. I found several more of these at the Goodwill, and we made the grooved container for my sister.
A wire is then pressed onto the top of the segment and the sides are collected and rolled up over the top. The pasta then slides off the wire - I used a coat hanger wire, but even a thin bamboo skewer will work fine. 
