Tuesday, September 13, 2011

What I Did this Summer

I saw a flock of Canada geese heading south on my morning walk.  With kids back in school, apples ripening on the trees, and the fall equinox quickly approaching, I find myself reflecting on the ways in which I spent the long days and warm nights of summer.

In an effort to find some balance during the fleeting, precious months of summer, I tried to limit my time on the computer (as evidenced by a longer lapse than usual between posts.) Instead, I chose to spend as much time out of doors as possible; hiking the woods and prairies, biking on paths and on streets, picnicking in city parks to the sounds of live music, camping in state parks to the sounds of bird song and night creaks, enjoying long meals on the porch or in the backyard with family and friends, swimming in a few of the many thousand freshwater lakes in the region, visiting new and old friends' farms and markets, tending home and work gardens, and taking long, long walks along Lake Michigan. 

This seems, to me, a sustainable way to enjoy life; to create more opportunities to make food, grow food, seek out real food, share food with loved ones, listen to the sounds of your neighborhood, meet your neighbors be they people, plants, or wildlife, feel sunshine on your skin,  and celebrate each and every moment of peace.  Not to stray to far from the usual format of this blog to wax poetic about the summertime....but it seems to me that I reclaimed a precious, wholesome peace by unplugging from my various e-connections and plugging into my visceral surroundings.

I also found time to read.  Fiction and nonfiction alike inspired. Among the several food books whose pages I burrowed into, including books about salmon, cod, chef-fing, and food rebels, I found one of the most enjoyable tommes to celebrate America's fine fare: American Terroir.  Through these pages, I gained a deeper appreciation for the likes of oysters, chocolate, and coffee, and remembered my fondness for wild edibles, raw milk cheese, apples, maple syrup, and honey.  Rowan Jacobsen takes North American terroir--the taste of place is the way I like to think about the term--to a new level.  I highly recommend this book for anyone who cares deeply about place based foods, farming, pleasure, and soil.

Speaking of terroir and books, my work at Milwaukee's urban Indian health center this summer involved celebrating regional food traditions through the editing and publishing of a new traditional food recipe and storybook; Mino Ayaa.  More on this soon, but in brief, the book promotes wellness through sharing seasonal wild and cultivated food recipes as well as stories from American Indian elders.  We unveiled the book this past weekend at Indian Summer Festival during our elder group's Three Sisters Stew cooking demo.   The 25th year celebration of Indian Summer, the countires largest American Indian cultural fest, included a new Tribal farmers' Market, several cooking demos, pow wows, and some really great traditionl food (wild rice cakes, bison chili and corn soup, among my favorites.) Our health center was on hand raising awareness on the ways to prevent and control diabetes.

And now its time to make the most of the harvest by canning, freezing, pickling, and drying summer's bounty and toil...to enjoy a bit of sunshine during the long, cold nights of winter.