Advent Reflections

Advent has changed a lot since my childhood. I have stubbornly held onto this tradition and insisted that we continue to light the candles every Sunday, during the four weeks before Christmas. As the least religious member of my family, taking on this role feels a bit strange. My determination has very little to do with religion, however. Advent for me is about staying true to a cornerstone of my family's tradition. What was once a time to sing, read scripture and reflect on God's gifts during the past year has become, much to my mother's chagrin, more of a time to goof off, laugh, make often inappropriate jokes, and eat all the seasonal candy we can.

Despite our shift in demeanor, however, there is still something sacred that lingers. Once we settle down and Dad cracks open the old family Bible, everything instantly comes back. Every Advent we've ever had is contained in a few moments as the same scriptures that are read every year are recited once again. We sing as much of the old carols as we can remember, our now adult voices containing echos of the children we once were. We discuss the same questions and topics, incorporating new answers and perspectives with the simpler ones we remember from childhood.

Tonight, as my brother lit his candle, the Hope candle, the flame from the match illuminated his face. I thought about all the years I have seen him perform that same act, from that same spot at the kitchen table. I wonder how many years we have left with all of us able to be gathered under the same roof. Some year, possibly soon, I will have to give up my grip on Advent, and let our lives follow their courses as new Christmas traditions unfold with new families in new places. I hope I will release it with grace. Until then I hold a childlike anticipation for Christmas and for next week when the next candle will be lit, we will sing the first verse of "O Come All Ye Faithful", and we will continue to do what we do best. Laugh, joke, share, be a family. My family.

Except from a travel journal

I do not know where I am sleeping tonight.

I am currently crammed in the back of a Ford Fiesta, hurtling down the autobahn. I have my back pressed against the side of the car, my legs swung up onto the seat next to me. Jammed against the opposite wall, my backpack slides precariously back and forth as the driver alternates between accelerating and slamming on the brakes, navigating the night time traffic.

The sky is in the final shuddering throes of an orgasmic sunset. Even as the dark blue of the night descends, the lingering orange rim of the horizon makes the weak headlights of the car seem unnecessary. The undulating German countryside flashes redundantly past the windows.

The next three weeks are a blank slate, the past one a blur of non-stop activity. I ponder what I always ponder while in transit, particularly during sunset.

What is it going to take to make this my life?

I'm already planning the next three adventures.

Not-so-French Onion Soup (or, A Rather Blustery Day)

It seems that it may turn out to be,

Feels that it will undoubtedly, 

Looks like a rather blustery day, today. 

- Winnie the Pooh 

Mmm, winter. Fire in the fireplace, sweaters and fuzzy socks, cold weather adventures, cinnamon scented everything, and of course, soup!

Soup is probably one of my favorite food groups. I miss it during the warmer months. Sometimes I make it anyway, just because I love it that much. Its easy, delicious, cooks without too much supervision and, my personal favorite, helps to clean out the fridge and pantry of all those random left overs.

Due to a few random events, my pantry this week is overflowing with onions. Now, practically any recipe can be modified to include onions, and they're already a staple in nearly everything I cook. This week though, I decided to change it up a bit and try a few recipes that actually feature this wonderful flavor tool as the centerpiece.

Two options immediately came to mind: onion rings, and French Onion Soup.

Waking up this morning to the windiest and coldest day of winter so far settled it. Today was to be FOS day (I'm also planning on attempting onion rings, but that story will come later).

I found this great recipe at elizabethrider.com and used it as a template, but changed pretty much everything.

Now, authentic FOS lovers will gasp in horror, but I swapped the thyme for sage and rosemary. I only did this because I have no fresh thyme, but plethoras of fresh sage and rosemary. I prefer fresh herbs to dried ones any day and decided it was worth the flavor change (besides, it would still be delicious!).

I also only cooked the onions for about 20-25 minutes. Again, FOS lovers shield your eyes. In real FOS, you would cook the onions down for almost an hour to allow them to caramelize properly, but I didn't for two reasons.

1. FOS always reminds me of my grandma. She makes a killer one for most holidays. So I gave her a call and chatted while I was prepping the ingredients. She said she never cooks hers for that long, and since I was trying to ultimately emulate her soup's flavor, I decided to just cook them until the texture was right (noodle-y and translucent).

2. I was really hungry.

So, in a nutshell, here was my FOS

2 tbs olive oil
1 large yellow onion
1 large sprig fresh rosemary (greens)
4 small fresh sage leaves (broadly minced)
1 carton vegetable stock (1 quart)
1 bay leaf
worcestershire sauce (vegan)
garlic powder
salt
pepper

Slice the onion into long, thin, half-moons. Saute in olive oil with rosemary and sage over medium low heat until translucent and soft. Leave in for up to 50 minutes to achieve full caramelization. Stir in stock and bring to a simmer. Stir in bay leaf, worcestershire sauce, garlic powder, s/p to taste. Allow to simmer on low heat for a bit for maximum flavor.

I used the time at the end to run to the store and get some fresh, warm french bread. If I had thought it out I would have made my own, but alas, it will have to wait until next time. Also, traditional FOS has Gruyère cheese added before it is served. This vegan version would pair amazingly with one of the cashew cheeses you can find at nutritionstripped.com. Again, next time.

Delicious, hot, satisfying. Bring on winter! Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm off to take some to my grandma.

Good Question

Teachers always like to reassure us that "there are no bad (stupid, dumb, wrong) questions". While this is certainly true in the context of achieving basic understanding for an individual, there is no doubt that when one is engaging in dialogue or research, some questions are better than others.

One of my recurring frustrations, and I can only assume this applies to others, is that often times my questions are easily answered and reflect a somewhat shallow understanding of the topic. As a student, this is more or less my job. However, when another student, the professor, or occasionally myself, ask a good question, the conversation is brought into an entirely new light that serves to illuminate previously overlooked connections and show a more realistic picture of the situation. As I find myself dealing with increasingly complex issues both in and out of class, the ability to have this broader comprehension is, I think, incredibly useful.

So, what exactly is a good question? Where do they come from, what do they consist of, who asks them, and how can I (and maybe you) get better at building them?

The basics of question asking have grown into an area of expertise, which today we call journalism. The foundations of journalism center around these key words:
Who
What
When
Why
Where
How

The most important feature of these words is that they cannot be answered with a simple "yes" or "no". They also tell a story. If one of these key questions goes unanswered, then you are missing something.

This is an excellent place to start. From these basic ideas, we can build our questions with the other pieces of a good question to create something helpful and worth pursuing.

I've been doing some informal polling of friends, family and teachers and have come up with this outline for what a good question contains:

One of the hallmarks of a good question is that it shows a wide grasp of the context that has already been established. Incorporate as much as you know and can possibly extrapolate about certain relationships into your question. This is a good way to develop questions with multiple parts, for example, "If A and B presumably lead to C, then what does that mean for D?". If your assumption regarding A and B ends up being incorrect, correcting it will only help you to gain a deeper understanding of what you're dealing with.

It was also suggested to me that a good question should anticipate its answer. This surprised me slightly, but when I thought about it, it made sense. Often times, particularly in science, we hypothesize about what a result should look like, given certain parameters. If results vary drastically from the predicted model, then the model and perhaps its underlying assumptions need to be reexamined. Hypotheses stem directly from research questions, and so applying the same kind of predictive reasoning to all questions could definitely prove useful.

Another component of a good question should be its adaptability. Because it will not be able to be answered in simple "yes" or "no" terms, it will also be open to interpretation from a variety of viewpoints. Having a somewhat open ended quality will allow, not only for a variety of rich and complex answers, but also for the question to be applied in other contexts as well.

Finally, everyone I asked agreed that a good question should be clear, concise, and require an answer that contains at least as much thoughtfulness as the question itself.

Basically, what all of this hyperbole boils down to is that good questions are asked by people who have a solid grasp of the topic. This provides them with a solid foundation on which to build complex questions which demand enlightening answers.

So thus, the simple question, "How can I ask good questions?" is provided the simple answer,
"Be a good listener."

Bagels!!

Basic Pizza Crust

Flour (1.5c)

Warm water (3/4c)

Salt (1tsp)

Oil (1/4c)

Yeast (1 tsp)

Baking powder (1tsp)

Preheat oven to 475

(I just guessed the measurements for a personal pizza, multiply by how many you need to feed, but if it's more than two, divide the dough up to make multiple pizzas.)

I don't even measure for this recipe any more. I just pour as much flour as I think I'll need into a bowl and push the flour to the edges of the bowl so I have a flour bowl. Then I fill it half with warm water, add the oil and sprinkle in some salt, yeast and baking powder. Mix it up, then let sit ( or not if you're hungry! ). I just let it sit as long as it takes to prep my toppings ( I'll post an easy pizza sauce recipe some time). Knead the dough and incorporate more flour until it's not sticky and then roll it out. This makes a great thin or think crust, so roll it to where you like it. Add whatever deliciousness you want and cook for 15-20min or until the edges are toasty. 

Enjoy!

Tarbell/Silver Star Area Trail Report 9/28/14

Spent my Sunday running around in the hills. Started from The Tarbell/Chinook intersection. There's no official trailhead, just a small pull out if you know where to look. The road through there must be a fairly new extension of L1180, since its not on the DNR map past Kloochman Butte, or designated as an official DNR road by Google maps. If you switch to satellite view, you'll be able to see it. I haven't had a chance to follow it all the way to see if it meets with any other roads, but it sure is a handy way to get to the north end of Silver Star without having to do the first four miles of Tarbell. 

The climb up Chinook was breath-taking as always, (physically and spiritually), with the classic fog-in-the-valley-sun-on-the-mountain morning of a PNW summer. Only saw one other group the whole day, coming up from Grouse Vista.

 I was really glad I decided to take the loop clock-wise. I had always assumed that coming down Chinook would be far more ankle-friendly than coming down the rock slide that is Grouse Vista. After running mp 10.5-4 of Tarbell for the first time, however, I can officially say that clockwise is the better idea, since climbing up from Hidden Falls to Grouse Vista would be a sun exposed death march. There is extensive clear cutting in some very steep areas particularly around mp 7. A little bit of trail intuition is needed to flow through some of the road intersections.

 I'm happy to have another section of Tarbell under my feet. All that's left now is Larch-Rock Creek. I'm also glad to have finally stepped up to a challenging route that has been eluding me, for various reasons, for quite some time now. 

Red = Total milage ~ 12.5 (map) but it felt a lot longer. My GPS watch had a low battery, so I'll verify next time. Would also be nice to compare accuracy with the Tarbell mileposts.

Black = rough guess of where the new section of road goes.