for Friday

Wow. The sun is back after what felt like weeks of rain and the dahlias are in bloom. A tomato tart will soon be in the oven and once I meet a few writing deadlines, I’m scheduling a movie date.

dahlia in bloom

Here’s a quick list for Friday.

My latest post at Mortal Muses is 5 Must-See Films For Photographers. Stop by and leave a comment with your favorite film picks for photographers, there are some great ones on the list!

DIY Photo Booth Tutorial  | Lomography Smartphone Scanner | Instant Color Protection Film

Mung Bean Hummus | Spring Samosas with Sweet ‘N Spicy Mint ChutneyTortilla española | Camp Cobbler | Rhubarb Vanilla Bean Donuts

The Green Kitchen cookbook | Yes, Chef: A Memoir | Ball Complete Book of Home Preserving | Home Made Summer | The Tuscan Sun Cookbook

Any good links to share? Enjoy your weekend!

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Wild

Two weeks ago I stood in line at an airport bookstore with a copy of Cheryl Strayed’s Wild in hand. I borrowed a copy month earlier from the local library, but as with many books these days, I didn’t get around to reading it before I had to return it. After whittling away half an hour browsing new titles and feeling elated from the uninterrupted freedom to do so, I returned once again to Strayed’s memoir. With hours of dead travel time ahead of me beginning with a red-eye from Windsor Locks with a brief plane change/bag check in Montreal and then onto Vancouver, I cracked the book open on my first flight and was reluctant to set it down even when my eyes blurred shut for two hours. That was Wednesday.

June Read

Over the next seven days spent traveling around British Columbia, I tore through pages of Wild every chance I had. I read on jet planes, helicopters, and float planes. In chauffeured cars and vans, on a ferry, and in fancy resorts. I soaked up every word like gravy on toast, hungry for disarming comfort and brutal honesty. The irony of my surroundings set against the story of one woman’s journey to sort out her disheveled life while hiking the rugged and crass conditions of the Pacific Crest Trail from California to Washington didn’t go unrecognized. As I read, I imagined being only a few steps behind Strayed with cheap duct-taped sandals, pelvic skin patches as rough as freshly plucked chicken, and a pack weighing more than half my weight.

On my second to last flight, a red-eye from Vancouver to Toronto, I finished the book and wished immediately that I hadn’t. Strayed’s writing unnerved me. Her prose lingered and held tight. I finally collapsed on the last flight and spent the next few days catching up on sleep. Admittedly, I’m a little late to the Wild party but it was worth every idle second.

Have you read Strayed’s memoir? What did you think?

p.s. I’m now reading the author’s first novel “Torch” and have “Tiny Beautiful Things” next on my list. I’m also scheming how I can make it to one of her writing workshops

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Reflecting on detail at Mortal Muses

Story often plays a role in how I make my photographs. A sentence read from a novel or an image seen on a gallery wall can inspire the seed of an idea. Rarely do I know where a project is going in these first stages, but when it feels urgent and immediate, I follow my gut reaction, jot down notes, and shoot to uncover the sensation…

Surface Abstractions: Paint on Wood 1 (Easthampton)

I recently signed on as a regular contributor for the inspiring photography blog Mortal Muses and couldn’t be more thrilled. I’m sharing the full story about finding An Eye For Detail, click here.  You’ll also find my recent post 5 Tips To Build Your Photographic Style there as well. If you’re not familiar with the site, Mortal Muses is a great place to share your photographs and pick up new photo tips and ideas. Its a collaborative site. You can share your photographs and interact in the Flickr pools (select images get featured): Mobile Monday, Everyday Beauty, Film Friday, and monthly Themes (currently ‘Summer’). Hope to see you over there.

p.s. I’m in Tofino today, last stop on my BC trip which has been nothing short of breathtaking. More to come.

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Homemade To Go—Chocolate Coconut Candy Bars

Minutes ago, David dropped me off at the airport. We hugged and kissed and I fell under a pregnant weepy spell. I’m off to British Columbia on assignment and will miss the blazes out of him and Luke. Meanwhile, the little bean moves to droning airport sounds, a coffee grinder whirs in the distance, and I swear the guy seated behind me keeps winds a disposable camera.

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Comforted by coconut water and Cheryl Strayed’s Wild, my plan is to read and sleep on the plane to Vancouver tonight. Vancouver…can’t wait.

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Earlier in my packing frenzy, I tried stuffing my film gear into a pack with my laptop and digital Nikon plus lenses. That didn’t work. I’ll be on a helicopter on another leg of this trip and since I’m flying solo, traveling light is key.

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My plan was to pack my suitcase and carry on with a few of these chocolate coconut candy bars I made earlier in the month. That didn’t happen.

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Instead I fit some trail mix, kale chips, and Cliff bars in my bag. Semi-homemade to go this time around. I’m off to board a plane, briefly to Montreal then onto Vancouver. I’ll keep you posted along the way and please, if you make these soon, send me some!

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Things have been busy in the best way lately so I thought I would share some quick news…I dropped off work for an upcoming show and yes, you’re invited. I’ve also been working with a designer to update Design, Shoot, & Show so that it reads on all mobile devices. Being pregnant has taught me that no, I can’t do everything and to ask for help often. Also, a few of my recipes are in the latest Foodie app which is out now, just in time for grilling season.

Chocolate Coconut Candy Bars
makes 12 bars

1 cup raw hazelnuts
1 cup raw almonds
16 pitted Medjool dates
2 tablespoons pure maple syrup
1 tablespoon pure vanilla extract
½ teaspoon course sea salt (plus extra for sprinkling on top)
1 cup chocolate chips
¼ cup unsweetened coconut milk, plain
½ cup unsweetened shredded coconut

Line a baking sheet with parchment paper.

In a food processor or high-speed blender, pulse hazelnuts and almonds until roughly chopped. Add dates, maple syrup, vanilla, and salt and process until combined. Using a spatula, scrape down the sides of the container and process again until the mixture firms up.

Scoop the mixture onto the prepared baking sheet. Using your hands then the spatula, spread into a 6 x 10-inch rectangle. Chill in the refrigerator for 1 hour or until firm.

Meanwhile, place the chocolate chips, coconut milk, and shredded coconut in a glass or metal heatproof bowl. Bring a medium saucepan filled with an inch of water to a simmer. Set the heatproof bowl on top of the pan. Using a spatula, stir occasionally as the chocolate mixture softens. When nearly all the chocolate is melted, remove bowl from heat (residual heat will melt the rest).

Remove baking sheet from the refrigerator. Pour the melted chocolate mixture on top of the bars and coat evenly with a knife or spatula. Sprinkle the chocolate with a little salt, to taste. Cut the rectangle into 12 (1 ½ x 3 ¼-inch) bars and then chill in the refrigerator or freezer until chocolate is set. Store bars in airtight containers in the refrigerator or freezer.

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from April

The latest from the 365 phone-ograph a day project. April — surfaces and details.

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Spring Vegetable Polenta Pizza

Over the past month, I’ve made at least a dozen of these polenta pizzas plus half that amount of rhubarb crisps. Say hello to springy goodness folks, this is it.

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What makes the pizza stand out is the thinly baked cornmeal crusts covered in arugula-sunflower seed pesto and sauteed asparagus, fennel, and leeks. At times fingerling potatoes or peas were interchanged for the asparagus and fennel and the whole pizza was daubed with goat cheese crumbles. Any way you dress these pies, they’re sure to be knockouts.

I wrote about the gingery rhubarb crisp at the start of spring fever, if you want to give that recipe a go as well. Add a salad to the two and you can call it a casual dinner party. You can see me cooking the pizza and crisp live on yesterday’s TV segments (please excuse the ums and whatnot).

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I’m off to finish shooting a roll of film and prepping for an art show (the Film Ends series) I’m in next month. If you’re in the area, stop by and say hi.

The Laboratory, Version 1

We can make a toast and talk artsy fartsy stuff or hang out, dance, and tell bad jokes. Whatever suits you.

Spring Vegetable Polenta Pizza
makes 2 thin crust 10-inch pies

For the polenta crust:
1 ½ cups coarse cornmeal
1 teaspoon sea salt
2 tablespoons extra virgin olive oil
1 ½ cups cold water
2 cups boiling water

For the pesto:
1 cup pesto (see recipe below)

For the topping:
1 tablespoon extra-virgin olive oil
2 large leeks, (rinsed well and tough greens and ends removed), sliced into thin rounds
1 fennel bulb (fronds and core removed), sliced lengthwise into 1-inch wedges
½ pound asparagus (ends trimmed), sliced into 2 1/2-inch pieces
sea salt
optional: 4 ounces crumbled plain or herb garlic goat cheese, to taste

Combine cornmeal, salt, olive oil, and cold water in a small bowl. Have the boiling water on the stove in a saucepan, and whisk in the cornmeal mixture. Cook about 10 minutes over low heat, stirring frequently. It will get very thick. Remove from heat, and let cool to the touch.

Preheat the oven to 375F. Oil two 10-inch pie or tart pans. Add the polenta, and use a spatula and wet hands to form it into a smooth, thick crust over the bottom and sides of the pan. Brush the surface with olive oil, and bake uncovered for 45 minutes.

Meanwhile, place a large skillet over medium heat and sauté leek, fennel, and asparagus in the olive oil with a pinch or two of salt for about 10 minutes until the vegetables are tender and still vibrant. If they start to stick to the pan, deglaze it with a little water (as needed).

Remove the polenta crust from the oven. Turn up the oven to a low broil. Spread the pesto onto the bottom of the baked crust; add the sautéed leek, fennel, and asparagus (followed by the goat cheese if using). Broil on the middle rack about 5 to 10 minutes, until the crust turns golden brown on the edges. Serve hot.

Arugula Pesto
makes about 1 1/2 cups

2 cups packed baby arugula leaves, washed and drained
juice from ½ a lemon
1 garlic clove, optional
1/2 cup sunflower seeds
1/2 cup extra-virgin olive oil
sea salt (to taste)

Blend arugula, lemon juice, garlic, and nuts in a food processor until the nuts are ground. Drizzle in the olive oil, with the machine still running; process until you have a smooth paste. Season to taste with salt.

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Lemony French Yogurt Cake—This is 40

My birthday is today and after months spent holding onto 39 as if it were my last year to fully live, I’m happy to say, so this is 40! Finally, I’m  embracing it, pregnant and all.

Birthday Breakfast: Lemony French Yogurt Cake

I heard on the radio this morning that Alex Van Halen and I share the same birthday. Aside from my brief dabbling with the band during my junior high and high school years, I think I entering my forth decade of life deserves an 80’s style drum solo tribute, don’t you?

Here’s what I know so far. My 40’s will be the decadent years, my roaring jazz age if you will.

french yogurt cake on wire rack

Breakfasts with tea and lemon cake in bed. Long walks in the rain. Lunch dates. Photo shoots.

Whisked Lemon Glaze

Gallery trips. A terrific outpouring of love from friends and the best birthday present ever from David and Luke (they made me a book of my life to date with photos and memories from friends).

Glazing the French Yogurt Cake

A Beastie Boys rockout and so so much more. Thanks for being part of it all. I’m off to celebrate and have more cake.

French Yogurt Cake (side)

Note: The lemon glaze gives a sweet lemon kick to the cake. You could also skip the glaze and serve it with a dusting of powdered sugar for a humble version.

Lemony French Yogurt Cake
makes one 9-inch round cake; 8 servings

cake ingredients:
1 ½ cups all-purpose flour, plus extra for dusting
½ cup almond flour
1 tablespoon baking powder
½ teaspoon sea salt
1 ¼ cups natural cane sugar
grated zest of 1 lemon
1 cup plain almond yogurt, drained (I use homemade but Amande cultured yogurt works well too)
½ cup vanilla almond milk
¼ cup canola (or other neutral) oil
2 teaspoons pure vanilla extract

lemon glaze ingredients:

1 ½ cups powdered sugar, sifted
2 tablespoons vanilla almond milk
2 tablespoons fresh lemon juice
½ teaspoon grated lemon zest

To make the cake: Preheat the oven to 350F. Brush a 9-inch round cake pan with oil. Dust with flour and tap out excess.

In a large bowl, whisk the flours, baking powder, and salt together. In a medium bowl, rub the sugar and lemon together with your fingertips until the sugar is moist and the lemon is fragrant. Add the lemon sugar to the flour mixture and stir well.

In a blender or food processor, combine the drained yogurt, milk, oil, and vanilla. Blend until smooth, then pour the wet ingredients into the dry ingredients and stir until just mixed.

Pour batter into prepared pan. Bake until top of cake is golden brown and a cake tester inserted into the center comes out clean, 40 to 45 minutes.

Let cake cool in pan on a wire rack for 15 minutes. Unmold cake, set right-side up, and cool to room temperature. Place a baking sheet under the rack.

To make the lemon glaze:
In a medium bowl, whisk together all the ingredients until completely smooth. Pour lemon glaze evenly over top and sides of the cooled cake. Garnish with a lemon twist or wedge in the center. Transfer to a serving platter.

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tuesday photo sketches

tomorrow, there will be cake!

until then, I’m sharing a page from the “surface abstractions” (an ongoing photos series I’m working on that details urban environments) sketchbook.

study in light and shape

brick wall with vines

hand broom, gutter, dried flora

gray wall with flowers

plus a note on figure and ground from 101 Things to Learn in Art School by Kit White:

“Most images, even abstract ones, usually have a figure, the object(s) of interest, and a ground, the space in which those objects sit. This holds for video and film as well. The relation of the figure to the ground is the most basic compositional device and describes to the brain the most basic conditions of any image.”

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Friday Giveaway–$75 Shabby Apple Gift Card

Our weeping cherry tree and lilac bush are close to blooming so I think it’s safe to say yay, spring! Our house could use a swift dusting over along with my spring and summer wardrobe, perhaps you feel the same? So long dust bunnies and wool, hello cotton (and maternity clothes).

I think I can help you out with at least one part of spring cleaning (sorry no door-to-door service) by offering you a $75 gift card from Shabby Apple, one of my favorite online shops featuring vintage-style clothing for women. They offer aprons, dresses, skirts, tops, swimsuits, and maternity wear in a range of sizes and styles from the 1920′s through the 1970′s. I’m partial to this 60′s yellow a-line dress with white buttons, cap sleeves, and a side zipper. I’d like to see it hanging in my rather empty closet right now (too bad I can’t play along).

Which item is your favorite?

Shabby Apple-Yellow Twin Palms

*****Note: The Giveaway is now closed. Thanks everyone for playing along and congrats to Melissa Palmer, you won!

For a chance to win (open to U.S. residents only) a $75 Shabby Apple gift card (to spend as you choose), follow these two steps:
1. “Like” Shabby Apple on Facebook.
2. Leave a comment here telling me your favorite Shabby Apple item.

Bonus entries:

Sign up for my monthly newsletter (see sign-up box on the right side of this page). You can also follow/like me on one or all of my social hangouts: twitter, facebook, pinterest, google + and tell me that you did so in the comments.

A winner will be chosen at random next Friday.

Good luck!

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Gingery Rhubarb Crisp

I feel a little out of sorts, artistically speaking. I haven’t picked up a film camera or jotted down notes for new photo projects in weeks. I’ve been in the kitchen coming up with new recipes and testing and retesting them until I arrive at the place where I vow never to saute another clove of garlic only to find myself in front of the stove bright and early the next morning. Olive oil, garlic, and ginger warm in the pan. Then it’s a chiffonade of kale or chopped baby spinach followed by a poached egg or two before I sit down to eat breakfast at the kitchen table. Sun streaks spread across the pink tabletop covered with round yellow placements. Somewhere, my grandmother is looking down on this scene smiling. Pink and yellow together along with fresh eggs hatched from the chickens she and my grandfather raised in the barn out back are some my favorite memories of her.

rhubarb

These early spring weeks are filled with hearty breakfasts and quiet moments when writing opens up the intimacy of connecting with life. Newly planted English peas and Bibb lettuces sprout in the garden bed and I casually rub my growing midsection in anticipation of what’s to come. Yep, things are growing around here and I’ve been waiting and holding onto my excitement until we reached the half-way mark to tell you this news—I’m pregnant and our little sprout (a boy!) arrives in September. As you can imagine, David, Luke, and I are terribly thrilled and after a queasy first trimester, I’m happy to settle into the second.

It’s true, a baby changes your life in dramatic and unexpected ways. In my experience, each pregnancy has brought on an onslaught of welcome creativity. Three months after Luke was born, I started this blog. Since then, I’ve worked hard to design the kind of creative life and career I spent years only dreaming about. I flounder in moments and lose trust, but I wouldn’t have it any other way. Five months before this baby will be born, I’ve finished the second chapter of an ebook and am making more work in the kitchen, studio, and at the writing table than previously.

I say all of this because I’m in awe. We’re having another baby and I can’t wait to see what comes next. Who knows, I may even pick up my camera today…

To celebrate, I made a gingery rhubarb crisp. Come on over—we have a breezy front porch with a weeping cherry out front and plenty of spoons to go around.

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Gingery Rhubarb Crisp
makes 6 servings

Filling:
2 pounds fresh rhubarb, cut into 1/2-inch chunks
½ cup natural cane sugar
2 teaspoons orange zest
1 teaspoon vanilla extract
2 tablespoons finely grated fresh ginger
3 tablespoons all-purpose flour

Topping:
½ cup all-purpose flour
½ cup old-fashioned oats
½ teaspoon ground ginger
½ cup chopped walnuts
¾ cup light brown sugar
½ cup (vegan or dairy) butter (softened)

Preheat the oven to 375F. Lightly oil a 9-inch square baking pan.

In a large bowl, mix the rhubarb, sugar, orange zest, vanilla, ginger, and flour together. Pour mixture into the prepared pan.

In a medium bowl, combine the flour, oats, ginger, walnuts, sugar, and butter. Use a pastry blender or your fingers to cut in the butter until the mixture resembles coarse crumbs. Sprinkle over the rhubarb filling and pat firmly in place.

Bake uncovered 35 to 40 minutes, or until the fruit is bubbling around the edges and the top is lightly browned. Serve warm with vanilla coconut ice cream.

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