I got summoned for jury duty!  I was actually rather intrigued, as the letter was cryptically calling it a ’special circumstances’ trial.  Alas, I tumbled out of bed at a ghastly hour, got all gussied up, and fought for downtown parking, just to wait in line (in winter!) outside the courthouse for half an hour.  As soon as I got through the massive security detail, I was met by a nice young man who took my papers, recorded my name, thanked me kindly and sent me home.  

• Grey Dress: secondhand, by Old Navy (ha! I had no idea ’till just now)
• Black Longsleeve Shirt: Target
• White Tights: Salvation Army???
• Mustard Thigh Highs: Sock Dreams! (best socks ever!!!)
• Industrial Garter Belt:  Sock Dreams
• Black Cardigan: by B.P.
• Flats: by AWOL
• Tin Bee Pin: a gift from  Kate
• Mustard Purse: secondhand vinyl makeup case (?)
• Pink Earflap Beanie: a gift

The bright side: I had already written the day off, so it was like stealing a whole 7 hours of totally free time.  Joy!

Growing up in southern California, I must admit that I took for granted the exotic produce that sprouted like weeds across the arid terrain.  An orange grove in every park (free for snacking), a lime tree on every apartment patio (to accompany Corona), and a lemon tree in every backyard (beware the thorns!).  I truly did not understand the treasure chest that was the avocado tree, ever heavy with fruit, in my own front yard.

Of course, every region has it’s own amazing gifts from the ground.  In the Northwest we have apples, and I certainly didn’t appreciate the divine pleasure of a perfectly ripe, perfectly crisp, perfect fresh heirloom apple, until I lived here.  Back home I ate over bred apples out of supermarket bins and considered them mundane, such a boring fruit.  But here!  Here is where I experienced the near-religious bliss that accompanies the first crunch of a Honeycrisp apple, fresh from the orchard.  Marvelous!

So I have traded avocados for apples and I fancy that fair, but boy, I do miss the citrus.  Those familiar warm hues that whisper ‘hey, there’s a bright light at the end of this cold tunnel’.  Citrus season comes in the dead of winter, and what relief it is to savor that juicy flesh that hints at sun and summertime.  I think I appreciate citrus more here, in its scarcity, than I ever did back home when it was everywhere.  Such is the quirk of life, I suppose.

Tangerines are always my top citrus pick.  For these cupcakes, I wanted to offer an enlivening winter dessert, and add an unexpected, earthy element to the palate.  Tangerine for tradition, with a hint of cumin that perfectly anchors the acid of the mandarin and the sweetness of the icing.  These turned out beautifully, and were a resounding hit at the annual Winter Solstice party.  I expect they’ll become a seasonal staple in the Rebhal household.

Ingredients:

1 cup soymilk

1 teaspoon apple cider vinegar

1 1/2 cups all-purpose flour

2 teaspoons baking powder

1/2 teaspoon baking soda

1 heaping teaspoon ground cumin

1/2 teaspoon salt

1/3 cup canola oil

3/4 cup granulated sugar

1/4 teaspoon vanilla extract

1/8 teaspoon almond extract

3 tablespoons  fresh tangerine juice

2-4 tablespoons tangerine zest (as much as possible)

Instructions:

Preheat the oven to 350º.  Whisk together the soymilk and vinegar in a small bowl, and set aside to curdle. In a large bowl, combine the flour, baking powder, baking soda, cumin, and salt, mixing thoroughly. In a separate bowl, beat the oil, sugar, vanilla extract, almond extract, and tangerine juice.  Add in the soymilk solution and mix well. Add the wet ingredients to the dry and gently process until no large lumps remain. Fold in the tangerine zest, reserving enough to decorate. Fill an oiled or lined cupcake pan, evenly distributed, and bake 20-25 minutes.  Makes 12 cupcakes.

For the Icing:

1 1/2 cups powdered sugar

2 tablespoons softened vegan butter

All juice and all zest from one lemon

Beat all of these furiously in a bowl until you get a nice whipped frosting.  If too runny, add more sugar.  If too solid, add more lemon or a splash of soymilk.  Spread over completely cooled cupcakes, sprinkling with cumin and zest. 

Then, let the dogs help with the clean up. 

In 2007 my partner and I accidentally bought a townhouse.  Um, oops.  We did not mean for this to happen; this is not the palace we had planned for. But, being young and savvy, we wanted to be close to the heart of the city.  We dreamt of walking to the best pubs, hitting all the museums and art galleries, getting around without relying on a car.  But of course, being young and struggling, our finances limited our choice of urban dwellings.  Portland has plenty of amazing houses right in the thick of city activity, but unfortunately these were out of our price range.  What we could afford was a lovely downtown condo, but this was out of the question for aspiring farmers such as ourselves.  Or, we could afford a bigger place on a plot of land outside the city proper, but of course that took us out of optimal urban range.  And so we searched and we schemed and we weighed all our options, until one day we stumbled upon an end unit row house.  It was not offensively big, and not uncomfortably small.  It shared the block with a pub and a coffee shop, and had a nice usable yard.  It was tall and slender, just like us!  And so it came to this: for what we could spend, sharing one wall got us decent square footage, 20 blocks closer to downtown.  We pounced, and this little compromise has become our castle.  We certainly didn’t mean to end up in a row house, but this fortuitous fluke has ended up meeting all of our needs, and exceeding them.  Living here at HQ, I have come to believe that townhomes are the forward-thinking approach to progressive residency.  Here’s why:

First, let’s get clear on language.  Townhouse is the most general term for what is sometimes called a row house or row home, sometimes called a terrace house, and sometimes called a brownstone.  These titles vary by region and do denote minor differences, although all of them share a fundamental set of common characteristics.  For the purpose of this article, I use the words interchangeably.  So, essentially townhomes consist of three or more units sharing side walls only (called ‘party’ walls), and having multiple levels creating a tall, skinny space.  Ownership of a townhouse includes ownership of the land it sits on, which deviates from apartment or condo ownership.  Aside from that, townhomes are as variable and customizable as their freestanding cousins. 

A townhouse is an ideal dwelling for a number of reasons.  Firstly, they are always built up as opposed to out, which means that they leave a very small footprint.  As far as city planning is concerned, this means that more people are able to comfortably occupy a single city block, without sacrificing personal space or privacy.   This then decreases the need for sprawl and keeps urban development within city limits.  Clearly, when houses are built closer together and each house takes up less land, there will be less need to encroach on wild lands and natural spaces.  And seriously, who could argue with less Suburbia?

A small footprint also creates a contained space with definitive boundaries – there is simply not room for expansion.  For residents, this means consumerism and consumption must be made in moderation.  My space is limited, so I only buy what I need, and I no longer have the luxury of hording!  This may sound scary at first, but in fact it has meant that I am able to invest in fewer, but nicer, choice items.  It has allowed me to identify what is actually important, and what is, indeed, just fluff.  This has been an incredibly empowering exercise for me.  Although truth be told, there are three levels here at HQ (as in most townhomes), so really there is plenty of space.  By comparison, according to the EIA the average American floor plan of a detached home includes roughly 2500 sq ft, while an attached home (row home) includes roughly 2300 sq ft.  So, if you don’t mind stairs (and boy, my ass has never looked better!), it’s not terribly too much sacrifice.

Speaking of spatial scaling, shared walls actually have their own set of benefits.  For one, construction simply requires less raw materials, when common walls are included.  Less raw materials means less environmental strain, and translates to cheaper overhead for contractors.  This may motivate the builder to use higher quality finishes or more expensive, and eco-friendly, products.

And then, of course, there’s energy.  Did you know that according to the EIA, residential buildings account for 21% of our overall energy usage?  That is almost as much energy as we use for transportation!  One of the greatest advantages of townhomes is their energy efficiency.  This is simple physics – it takes less energy to heat a group than a series of individuals.  It’s the reason we naturally huddle together for warmth – cuddles conserve heat!  And in simple terms, row homes are just super snugglers.  Each unit acts to insulate the others, even ‘sharing’ heat between them.  For example, I live in the Pacific Northwest, but this winter I didn’t have to turn my heater on until December.  You just can’t beat that!  It also helps that nearly all townhomes place the bedrooms on the top (usually third) floor, where the heat rises and gets trapped.  During the winter we have no problem keeping our bedrooms toasty warm.  And in the summer the same principals apply, and each unit acts to insulate the others against overheating.  As well, the natural shape of most town homes allows for easy energy-free cooling.  Because the home is shaped like a corridor with the windows and doors at the front and back, all you need to do is open them up to get a nice, mildly breezy ‘wind tunnel’ blowing through.  This is how we keep air circulating in the summer months; we have no need for an air conditioner.

In my experience, a townhouse has meant having my cake and eating it too.  I get to live in the city and take full advantage of all that metropolitan life has to offer.  This means that I rarely need a car, which saves both money and energy as well.  I also get the benefits of living in an actual house, as opposed to an apartment or condo.  HQ feels like a real home, with enough space to accommodate dogs, children, working from home, and overnight guests.  I have a yard big enough to keep chickens and raise a bountiful garden.  Best of all, I get to sleep easy at night knowing that I am actively minimizing my impact on my environment.  It truly is the best of both worlds, and right now, I wouldn’t trade that for anything.

There are about a hundred and one reasons why I count myself lucky to live in Portland Oregon, and high on that list is our magnificent farmers market.  I believe in eating as seasonally and as locally as possible, and so I especially love the way that the market evolves each week.  The nuance of each season determines the weekly crops, reflected in the offerings of each farmer, baker, and artisan vendor.  But mostly, I just love the vegetables.

Perhaps, like me, you live in a city with a thriving small farm scene.  And perhaps, like me, you find yourself getting a bit . . . *overly excited* . . . at the sight of such incredible vegetal bounty.  Sometimes I become hypnotized there, starry-eyed-enchanted at the cornucopia of color on display. 

Perhaps, like me, you tend to get *too* ambitious amidst all that glorious flora.  My mind sets to racing through daydreams of dishes, rearranging menus to feature each rare ‘treasure-etable’ (say it fast). And so I buy, and admire, and I buy, and conspire, and I buy, and desire . . . so I buy.  I’m just no match for all those pretty colors. 

And so perhaps, like me, you often find yourself standing over the saddest sight. Come the weeks end, you’ve got a crisper full of precious produce on it’s very last leg, and no way to eat it in time.  Such vegetable squander would truly be a tragedy of Shakespearean proportions.  But not to fear!  That sort of wastefulness will never happen on our watch.  We’re going to put those wilting beauties to good use – seasoning our roux, cradling our soup, and acting as a foundation for countless culinary creations.  We are going to make stock!

Making your own stock is just about one of the easiest things you can do, and the rewards are simply divine.  You have no idea what you’re missing if you’ve only ever poured base from a box or worse yet, a little package of concentrate.  Homemade stock is as unique as its maker, rich and refined and adding complexity to any dish.  And of course the best part of all – it’s totally easy to do, and it freezes great.  Here’s what you’ll need, and you’ll notice I haven’t specified amounts, because this is sort of a ‘use-as-much-and-whatever-you’ve-got’ recipe:

• Oil, about 2 tablespoons
• Onions + Carrots + Celery – at least 2 of the 3.  This fearsome threesome comprises the major aromatics, which are the staples of a traditional base.  Collectively called mirepoix in French cuisine, this trio is the foundation of endless Western recipes.  It is best to include all three, and in fact a good solid stock can be made from these three vegetables alone.  You will, however, require a minimum of two of them.
• Other vegetables – this is the ‘Empty-Your-Crisper’ game!  You can toss in virtually anything here, including but not limited to potatoes, parsnips, turnips, other tubers, leeks, chives, scallions, peppers, tomatoes, tomatillos, mushrooms, broccoli (I usually save the stalks in a bag in the freezer for just this purpose), ginger, cabbage, and anything else you may find hiding in your veggie drawer.
• Garlic cloves – to taste.
• Spices – again, to taste.  I usually fill a mesh infuser with some peppercorns and clove pods.  You could also add star anise, fennel seeds, whole nutmeg or anything else you fancy.  Again, this will probably change depending on what’s around.
• A bay leaf

Put on your favorite podcast to keep you company while you chop your mirepoix into nice, hefty chunks (about 1 inch pieces will do) and sliver your garlic.  Set a cauldron or large stockpot over medium-high heat, and add 2 tablespoons of olive oil or Earthbalance ™.  When the oil is heated, add the mirepoix and garlic to sauté, stirring occasionally.  In the meantime, rough chop the rest of your veggies and prepare your spices.  You can use a tea ball or infuser to sequester your spices, or you can tie them up in a satchel made of scrap fabric.  You may also let them swim freely in the pot, but then you’ll have to fish them out later.  

When the veggies and spices are ready (and the sautéing onions are getting glassy), add them and the bay leaf to the pot and quickly cover with water, filling almost to the top.  Reduce your heat, cover your pot, and let simmer for a good four hours or so.  Your water should reduce by about half – if necessary, add more to keep the liquid level up. 

After a few solid hours of simmering, you’re going to end up with a savory-smelling, dark, earthy vegetable stock.  This stuff is recipe gold!  Now, you can either fish out the veggie remains, or you can pour off the broth, but you’ll want to end up with a translucent, ‘clean’ liquid – no squishy remnants floating around!  I like to portion it out into old mason jars, but you can store it in anything.  It will keep for around a week in the fridge, or up to 6 months in the freezer.

*** There’s no salt in there, so you’ll have to add salt when you utilize the broth.  

Use your homemade stock as a perfect starter for soups, sauces, or if you’re feeling adventurous, you could even try a vegan risotto.  Be creative, and most importantly, have fun with it!

• White Sheath: secondhand, by Moon Collection
• Black Slip: secondhand
• Black Leggings: Target
• Black Leg Warmers: made by me
• Engineer Boots: secondhand, by Carolina
• Green Jacket: secondhand
• Ring and Earrings: handmade by my Grandmother when she was 16

And just for fun, a little tour of New Years’ past . . .

I was just 18 wee years old in that last one, and a candy raver.  We were at a rave of course, outside of Santa Cruz Ca, and ringing in Y2K in a very rave-like way, ha!

I hope you all had a fun and fabulous New Years Eve, a portent of the year to come!