Cumin and other spices in a Hebron market stall

I tasted this most delicious salsa of my mother’s creation last week, and came back to Richmond with a craving.

I have all of the ingredients expect the bell peppers (I could use canned tomatoes). (Un)fortunately, I can’t buy peppers in January without a lot of guilt. So I sent a hope out into the universe, and found some dumpster diving yesterday! Salsa coming soon.

This salsa is thick, and the cumin gives it such a rich flavor.

Our town is ~36,000 people.

The town I grew up in is ~6,000 people, and have a fabulous local coffeeshop. It’s not necessarily a money-maker, but it’s popular, and well-loved. It began with financial investments form many interested parties, a model that our food co-op is now exploring.

Read this delicious reflection from manager Zach, and dream big - if North Manchester can have KenapochoMocha, what can we create together?

tamarind date chutney

I feel a resistance to the idea that “most things are fine in moderation.” I am not a moderate person, and tend to enjoy experiencing things in extremes. For example, strawberries are my very favorite food. I have this idea that I would be a more enlightened person if I found the first strawberry of the season to be the most delicious delicacy of all time, and was totally satisfied with those two bites. But I prefer strawberries by the handful.
When I talk with people about eating locally, they often feel resistance when they think of the important foods that they simply can’t find locally: chocolate, coffee, many kinds of fruits, olive oil, etc. For me, it’s spices (and yes, chocolate).
But eating locally, whether by choice or by necessity (which may come sooner than we think), does not have to be an absolute. If we were able to supply the majority of our diets locally, we could certainly import the special stuff. Trade will never cease altogether, but we will have to learn to focus on locally available food (and then we’ll have energy resources for trade).
In honor of the special stuff, I offer this recipe that I love, that is completely non-local.

To make tamarind concentrate (the recipe refers to the glossary, which I’m not posting), soak 1/2 cup of dried tamarind (which is how you’re most likely to find it in the US) overnight. Strain the liquid and save the pulp. You may want to strain a couple times to really get concentrate (or just use less water in the recipe). And good heavens, save the juice too! Use it to make yummy drinks or put it in baked goods.

Donna, Anna Lisa, Al, Travis and Karen after sharing dinner.

Every once in awhile I hear a story about someone transforming a moment of violence or theft, and I am moved. It’s like a peace activist’s dream come true - to have an opportunity to put all those theories to the test and find a humanizing outcome.

I have learned a lot about sustainable living and expect to be eating well, even as the economic crisis deepens. Many of the people I love live on farms with strong food supplies. “What will I do when hungry people from the city come to my farm with guns and demand our food and water?” is a common question in my circle of friends.

“Welcome them with open arms,” my friend Andrea once said. I really want to rest in that answer, but what if there are a lot of people, and they eat through our pantry, and then move on to the next farm? That certainly isn’t sustainable.

Obviously education and urban gardening are essential, and we should have gotten these programs going yesterday. We’re working slowly, but surely, on it in Richmond. But these initiatives won’t let us avoid the question of sharing in the midst of scarcity.

So I’ll pass on this story from my own Church of the Brethren heritage, from Gleanings.

[Gleanings is a regular feature of BRANCHES, a publication of Muskegon County Cooperating Churches, 1095 Third St., Suite 10, Muskegon, MI 49441. Feel free to pass this essay on as long as proper credit is given.]

Gleanings by Tom Wagner May/June 2009
Mutual Responsibility

Amidst the hillsides of my native southeastern Pennsylvania echoes the memory of a beloved Dunker elder named John Herr (1848-1931). As was common practice among Brethren of that era, Brother Herr earned his living from farming and served his faith community as a member of a non-salaried ministry team. He reportedly preached in fluent German and English. From the turn of the 20^th century to the early 1920s he served congregations in Berks and Lebanon Counties as “elder-in-charge” or “bishop”, including my childhood congregation at Myerstown.

The story has often been told of how one night Elder Herr was awakened by a noise from his smokehouse. He quietly got out of bed and made his way to the smokehouse to investigate. There he discovered two men, one at the door receiving hams passed to him by another inside the building. The unannounced appearance of the Dunker elder startled the thief at the door so much that he ran off without warning his partner. Brother Herr said nothing, and simply stood in the man’s place by the door. When the thief who was unaware of the switch asked how many hams he should take, Brother Herr replied that he might as well take them all. Only then did the thief realize he had been caught in the act and tried to escape. Recognizing the thief as one of his neighbors, Herr strongly urged him to take at least one ham home to his family. At first the man refused, saying he didn’t need a ham. The elder countered that anyone who sneaked on to his neighbor’s homestead in the middle of the night for ham must be in desperate need. Again Herr insisted that his neighbor take a ham home, and suggested that next time he needed food to just come and ask. He could have as much food as he needed. It is said that Elder Herr never revealed the identities of his late night visitors, even to his own family.¹

This story came to mind a few weeks ago during a conversation about the current economic crisis. A good friend expressed concern that the deepening recession could result in an outbreak of lawlessness. He spoke of eventual confrontations between rural households and bandits scouring the countryside for food. The scenario hits close to home. Both our households have put great effort into supplying our tables with the work of our hands and the bounty of the land. I don’t believe my friend is suffering from paranoia. He has a long history of progressive activism and cooperative economic ventures. Rather his forebodings speak prophetically to the ultimate outcome of unbridled self-interest-a nightmare of broken relationships and shredded safety nets. We have to begin looking out for each other again. Those who have benefited the most from our society have a greater responsibility to contribute to the needs of that society for the common good.

Desperate circumstances often lead to desperate actions. The smokehouse incident described above was essentially a confrontation between individuals. Though few of us would condone the thieves’ behavior, many of us can sympathize with the motivation to provide for one’s family. Furthermore, had John Herr chosen to defend his property rights by turning his neighbors over to the authorities, few would question his right to do so. However, he chose to overlook the trespass. The moment when he recognized the thieves as neighbors was a moment when compassion overwhelmed self-interest. Elder Herr understood the need and offered to help to the best of his ability. He also did what he could to mend the breach of trust in that relationship, even to the point of guarding their reputations in the local community.

In common use, the word “neighbor” usually refers to folks living across the street or down the road, but it can also carry a more expansive meaning. Recall that Jesus once answered the question, “Who is my neighbor?” with a story about a despised Samaritan who took responsibility for the welfare of an injured Jew (Luke 10:25-37). In this case the definition was extended to include even a perceived enemy. Dunker elder Michael Frantz (1687-1748) described the relationship with our neighbor as “the outward communion with God”. Under that heading he wrote about our relationship with wealth and property. “To this extent ‘mine’ and ‘yours’ may be spoken on this basis, that this is mine and that is yours to administer and keep until a time of need for the poor and suffering in and outside the congregation. To love one’s neighbor as one’s self shows clearly what communion is. Thus it behooves him who has two coats to give to him who has none, and he who has food, let him do the same. From this it is understood that he who has two portions, be it food or clothing, house, property, livestock, money or whatever his neighbor needs for his life’s necessity, then love should compel him to give to his brother and to his neighbor and to do as he can for their need.”² This gives us food for thought as we approach the celebration of Pentecost and life in the early church.

Tom Wagner is a former pastor in the Church of the Brethren (Dunker) and serves MCCC as clerk and archivist.

¹Guy R. Saylor and others, History of the Church of the Brethren, Eastern Pennsylvania 1915-1965 (Lancaster, PA: 1965), p. 248.

²Donald F. Durnbaugh, ed., The Brethren in Colonial America, (Elgin, IL: Brethren Press, 1967), p. 453.

Bread pudding recipe

Bread is often something I end up with too much of. Freezing it is always a simple way to avoid wasting it. This bread pudding recipe is another.

As you can see, there is no specification for temperature or time. I put the oven to 350, and baked it for about 40 minutes, followed by about 10 for the merengue.

I used extra bread, and lemon juice instead of lemon flavor.

I doubled the recipe and used a 9×9 casserole pan.

The last bits of the soap bar that are way too small to use without annoyance melt down well to make new soap. I'll take anyone's soap and candle scraps!

“There is no waste, only creative challenges to find meaning and new opportunity,” I wrote last fall, as I developed my “metaphor for ministry.”

Throughout this year I have continually been drawn to the art of avoiding waste. I have planned many, many meals around food left to rot in seminary fridges (and therefore eaten much more dairy than I, an ex-vegan, would like to admit).

My arts-and-crafts projects focus on using materials that would often be thrown away. I’ve made windchimes from tin can lids and used dental floss. I’ve made purses and pads from fabric scraps and unmendable items. I’ve spent hours researching things to do with plastic bags that won’t send more poisonous gases into the atmosphere. (Any ideas? Other than crocheting, which I need to learn to do.)

I’ve nastied the Honda hauling food scraps from school and church to my worm bin, where the food you left on your plate becomes worm food, then worm poop, then earth food, then animal food again. (Wait, does that imply that earth poop is vegetables!?)

Deep-mulching my garden is a way to avoid wasting topsoil (tilling leads to erosion), water (lasagna gardening holds moisture better) and time (less weeding, no tilling or double-digging). Okay, so sometimes not wasting is more work, and sometimes it’s just lazy! Sometimes using trash to make art is because new art supplies are too expensive. It’s all good.

I’ve worked with the What Is Your Story? project, raising the profile and impact of Wayne County’s Girls, Incorporated, and pooling community resources to record the stories of local residents. As Frederick Buechner writes, ”as long as you remember me, I am never entirely lost. When I’m feeling most ghost-like, it’s your remembering me that helps remind me that I actually exist.” All of us need such reminders.

Richmond, especially, needs such reminders, so I’ve started new conversations about getting the Wayne County Time Bank off the ground. Even before this economic downturn, the Richmond area has been seeped in un- and underemployment. Many people believe their own lives are a waste without rewarding work. Many people believe Richmond, itself is a waste. I know the Time Bank will be a way for people to find their own value, and to strengthen this city.

My work with the Clear Creek Co-op adds some confusion to this list. We’ve realized that the Co-op is not healthy, and we’ve identified some possible next steps, including closing the organization. Would closing the Co-op be a waste? A waste of its history, reputation, community and vision?

When is getting rid of something wasteful, and when it is useful (or just plain necessary)? Forest fires are necessary for certain ecosystem’s equilibriums. Worms, ants, vultures and many other living beings eat what humans might consider trash.

If we need to get rid of some things, and if other living beings depend on (some of) our trash, one thing we must consider is how we get rid of things. Food scraps can’t decompose to become nutrient-rich soil in a landfill. How might the Co-op be laid to rest so that something sustainable and beloved can rise from its ashes? (I’m not suggesting we burn it down - I think Earlham would get the insurance money anyway.)

What does waste mean in your life?

Butternut squash soup

I made this soup for company a couple months ago, hoping that the lack of discernable vegetables and sweet flavor would appeal to the kids there.

It didn’t really work, since I told everyone what was in it:-)

But I liked it, and recommend it as a light, healthfully creamy soup.

I used peanuts instead of pumpkin seeds as garnish. It would have made more sense to save the squash seeds and use them, but I didn’t read ahead. Has anyone else roasted butternut squash seeds? What do they taste like?

Fudge brownie

I made these brownies for the Bethany Board of Trustees about a week ago. I’m ashamed to admit, I usually make brownies from a box because I like the texture so much better than brownies from scratch. But these brownies are a winner - chewy and fudgy, and delicious.

The recipe is very easy to make organic, and mostly from local ingredients. I still don’t know anyone in my area growing cacao or vanilla….

This recipe comes from a fabulous cookbook - Moosewood Restaurant Cooks for a Crowd. I doubled it, and put a cream cheese/sour cream mixture by spoonful in one pan. It was plenty for the ~65 people at the board lunch, since the recipe’s suggested serving size is unnecessarily large. Not that I don’t like 9 square inches of brownie:-)

Rhubarb crisp

I made this for book club a couple weeks ago, with frozen rhubarb from last spring. I used honey from Centerville and molasses, rather than sugar, and extra rhubarb in place of sorrel.

This recipe comes from Simply in Season, an excellent cookbook that is a wonderful first step to eating and cooking more locally!

A Madhur Jaffrey classic!

This is a great time of year to eat eggs - the chickens start laying abundantly well before veggies and fruit are ready for harvest, and pantries and freezers may be getting bare.

So here’s a recipe that Chris and I enjoyed recently. It doesn’t require any fresh produce - I used frozen chilis and dry ginger.