This is my second summer of unrequited gardening.  I never considered myself a gardner--I can’t seem to keep house plants alive, but the Santa Monica sun smiled on my garden this past Spring, yielding an abundance of gorgeous lemons, mixed greens and strawberries. 

It seemed that along with my plants, I had grown myself a green thumb.  I got cocky and had big plans for my new backyard, which was twice the size as the one I just moved from.   My bubble was burst as it seemed that moving one town away from Santa Monica as I did in May, was like saying goodbye to perfect sun and soil conditions.  The owner of the house I moved to told me that the rail ties in the garden area leaked oil into the dirt, which likely would contaminate any edible plants that might be grown.  It took me a few days to get over that bit of news, and I turned to the always helpful Mike at the Marina Garden Center, who suggested growing in planters, rather than directly in the ground.  Easy enough.

Last year, I planted three starter tomato plants right before leaving for a six week gig in Georgia.  I came home to a forest of 6 foot high tomato plants with shriveled tomatoes and a jungle of vines.  My very first experience with tomatoes was the summer before.  I pruned and I added organic compost.  I kept it watered and checked on them every couple days.  And I was rewarded with a bountiful harvest until one day a caterpillar showed up on a leaf and each day got progressively fatter and fatter.  I hope the tomatoes the caterpillar ate helped it become the most beautiful butterfly ever.  This year I had a late start on the tomato plants, planting the seedlings one early morning before work.  I haven’t seen them in four weeks.  But now I am wrapped on my project and actually have a chance to see the light of day.

I’m not sure why I missed my plants so much.  I only plant edibles and I think that there is some satisfaction in the simple purity of placing a seed in a planter, using the compost from your food scraps and then harvesting your own meal.  If I relied on only what I grew, I’d likely starve (or lose that 'last 10') but knowing that at least one amazing salad was grown by my own hand is like a touchstone for me.  Living in a city where anything you can dream of or desire is a credit card swipe away and working in the entertainment business can remove you from the appreciation of simple basic pleasures.  Because my business is creating a hyped up fantasy of reality, the patience and anticipation of seeing that bud become something recognizable (and edible) is grounding and on a philosophical level, a reminder that there is something so much bigger than that sound bite that takes days to craft in a dark edit room.  

I consider myself a ‘creative’--I like to produce, write, be in the epicenter of pop culture.  I take a seedling of an idea, let it germinate, nurture it and with a lot of Hollywood fertilizer, it appears in your home, as processed entertainment.  Whether is television or conjuring up a delicious meal out of items that show up in the garden; both are equally satisfying to me--it's the difference between a documentary and reality TV.  One leaves you with food for thought; that there is something bigger that you should be doing, thinking about and taking action upon, while the other is a good old bag of Cheetos--a guilty pleasure you've been craving that is instant gratification, providing an escape from mundane issues.  

Luckily for me and my son, we don’t rely on my agricultural skills.  But knowing that Ethan understands that the food chain doesn’t begin at the grocery store and end at a fast food drive thru is light years ahead of my eco awareness at his age.      

But I couldn’t stop at the life lessons learned from the vegetable garden.  For the past few years, through the tireless enthusiasm of my friend, Alison, I’ve been involved in building homes with Habitat for Humanity.  Having physically built a roof, and seeing it over a family’s head, I feel an organic connectedness to the earth and to my neighbors.  As with plants, the power of seeing life and sustenance grow out of a dirt field, yields more satisfaction than any entertainment accolades (disclaimer:  I haven’t won any Emmy awards, so I can’t really state this as a fact, but I think my award winning friends might agree).  

While my garden is a solo effort, the Habitat builds are a unification of many people from varying walks of life.   From A-list movie stars to church groups and the families, who will eventually live in the house with the crooked siding I hung with all good intentions, makes me realize that there is a safety net in life.  Here we were--strangers helping strangers.  I’m sure everyone has their own personal reasons for why they were there, but I suspect many, as I did, come out of the experience with a new found sense of security.  That we are part of a community--one that we contribute to and one that gives back to us.

The collective buzzing of saws, pounding of hammers, combined with the sweat, tears and laughter made for the very best and most creative of reality programming.  One Habitat homeowner, who was volunteering her time to build a home for another family said, ‘Volunteering is the rent you pay for being on this Earth’.  I couldn’t agree more.

And the added bonus for me is that the homes we built are LEED-certified, which makes them sustainable AND Ethan and the other Habitat volunteers’ kids were able to be part of the build at a Kid’s Tent set up on site.  I like that Ethan can see that the basic necessities of life are not to be taken for granted.  He can see the various stages and the work that goes into the food we eat, and the home we live in.   

It's been a great year for growth--maybe not so much in the garden, but definitely in spirit.

Learn more about Eda at http://edamame2003.blogspot.com/     

If you’ve ever read ‘The Giving Tree’, you know what it’s like to be a mom.  It wasn’t until this past Mother’s Day that the story of the selfless, sacrificing tree finally resonated with me.  I’m not a martyr or Mother of the Year, but I feel that I am doing my best.  I try to balance the fun activities with the discipline of keeping up with the homework.  Make dinner time a priority, try to nurture, be a friend, and a conscious parent.  No TV, no video games--at least during the week.  And for this I got a coaster and a card that read, ‘I love my mommy because she drives me places.’  Really?  

 
photo via matt mcgee

I am not programmed to see a baby and start cooing.  And even after raising an almost 7-year old boy, I still hesitate when a friend hands me their baby.  Kids are very intuitive, so it occurred to me that my son just wasn’t buying the mom act I thought I was playing so well.  I worried about this for a minute, but had to get back to my job of driving Ethan to karate, then to brunch at dim sum (thats where he wanted to ‘take’ me), then to the art supply store and finally working with him for the rest of the day on a school project that was due the next day.  Of course, we had two weeks to work on the project, but because of the move, we just didn’t have the room to spread out and work on it, so it wound up being our Mother’s Day project.  And Ethan complained almost the entire time.  Why couldn’t I just do it for him?  Why did he have to do so much and try so hard?   Why couldn’t we go to our neighbor’s house and make cookies with them?  

And with Ethan’s seemingly benign Mother’s Day sentiment,  I was thrown into a tailspin of self-doubt.  Am I over indulgent?  Should he be more independent?  At what point does he need to fend for himself?  Was his take-away from our favorite book that I will always be around to do everything for him and for him to expect it?  

I was at a child rearing crossroads.  I knew I wasn’t going to figure out the answer any time soon, so I went back to trying to help Ethan with his school project.  His assignment was to create a game that included rules and a winner.  He decided to create a game that involved saving endangered animals.   So in order to save the animals, we had to learn why they are endangered.  We learned about fishing trawlers and how they endangered marine life, how pollution (mainly emissions from coal-powered plants) is a leading cause of mercury in the fish that we eat, that in turn is a cause of learning disabilities and memory loss in developing children.  The benefits of the heart healthy omega-3 fatty acids found in fish that help promote brain development in children is counteracted by the mercury, found in the same fish!

By eating farmed fish, your chances of mercury are lessened (unless the fish is fed smaller wild fish, such as salmon--note to self, DO NOT PURCHASE FARMED SALMON).  Greenpeace  tracks supermarket chains and the sale of sustainable fish.  You can learn about the fish your supermarket sells at the  Greenpeace website.   

I usually purchase seafood at my farmer’s market or local fish market (Santa Monica Sea Food) and never without first consulting my iphone Seafood Watch app.   The Seafood Watch recommended both the wild and farmed striped bass/white bass hybrid as a BEST CHOICE.  Since wild striped bass is an Atlantic fish, I chose the California farmed hybrid striped/white bass.  But the farmed salmon is a big red AVOID.   

Why is that?  Both salmon and striped bass flourish in similar environments in the wild, but when farmed, salmon requires three pounds of wild fish to grow one pound of salmon (non-sustainable, and increases the likelihood of mercury); whereas, the hybrid striped bass can be trained to eat meal pellets made of insects.  Most salmon is farmed in open pens in coastal waters, with the waste released directly into the ocean.  The bass can be farmed in enclosed ponds and tanks, with waste disposal courtesy of nature (other fish).  Basically, how these fish are raised accounts for how healthy they are for people and the environment.

And an analogy when applied to children, actually.   Kids depend on us to unconditionally provide them with shelter, food and a healthy environment.  But they also can’t be confined.  They can grow only as much as their space allows.   And in order for them to grow, we need to let them make choices.  Even the bad ones.  I have to hold myself back from fixing things right away and let Ethan marinate in the consequences of his decisions.  After a lot of trial and error and re-do’s, we finally finished the project at 11pm on Mother’s Day.  But he did it himself--the research and the writing (including the typing, arranging and pasting).  Then, with his eyes nearly shut from being so tired, an unsolicited hug. “I love you so much mommy.  You help me make my dreams come true.”  Really.

Grilled Striped Bass w/Maitake

• 2 pound whole striped bass (deboned)
• 4 cloves of garlic (crushed)
• 4 sprigs of rosemary
• 6 Scallions (chopped in 3 inch long strips)
• 1 medium sized Maitake Mushroom ('petals' divided)
• Salt
• Pepper
• Olive Oil
• Juice of one Lemon
  
  

Method 

• Drizzle the fish on both sides with olive oil and salt
• Place garlic and rosemary inside the fish
• Drizzle scallions and mushrooms with olive oil, salt and pepper) and place in a foil wrap.
• Grill the fish over medium heat for 15 minutes on each side (I have a BBQ sheet I put over the grill that I use to keep fish pieces from falling into the grill).
• Place the foil pack of maitakes and scallions on the grill after the first fish turn-over.
• After the fish is cooked, juice the lemon on the fish.

Sometimes the great thing about not having any food in the kitchen of a new home is liberating.  It’s literally a fresh start.  Here was my chance to eat only local fruits and vegetables, combined with the whole grains I’ve squirreled away this winter.  I’m a little stuck on the meat part, so I’m going to stick to the grass fed variety from my local grocery and learn more from there.

As much as I enjoyed my eat fest in Manhattan, it’s time for a little detox and a relaxing trip to my neighborhood farmer’s market.  The funny thing is that when I go to a farmer’s market or a good ethnic grocery, I get excited about the possibilities.  Even more exciting for me is that all my proper kitchen appliance accoutrement are unpacked and yearning to be taken out for a spin.

The downside to the move is my displaced garden.  The citrus is just now flowering, so no limes or lemons until mid summer, and I have yet to re-plant the vegetables.  If I had to make a choice, I would place eating locally at a higher priority than organic. Its easy for me to practice this since I live in southern California, where there is always a variety of vegetables year round.  For me this choice works because I know that my food is the freshest possible so Ethan and I enjoy maximum taste, nutrition, and variety.  I like that our footprint remains small since our food doesn’t travel great distances.  Though I do miss tropical fruits, I will cheat and buy organic mangoes and pineapples.

There is an Asian vegetable stall at the farmer’s market that is always my first stop because I know they have cilantro with the roots (in Asian cooking, the roots are key).  This week, Chinese broccoli (Gai Lan in Chinese) was back in season, along with a childhood favorite, Pak Boong (in Thai), which I learn is water spinach.  The Hmong farmer knew the names of every vegetable in Lao, English, Chinese, , Vietnamese, and Thai.  He suggested the Holy Basil (also a must for Thai cooking and Lemon Basil).

Spring beans are in season, so some of those made the basket.  I picked up the usual suspects-- arugula, avocados, tomatoes--and  some fennel and radishes.   Then there is the mushroom stall--maitake, aka, hen in the woods.  Looking like beautiful flowers--so delicate.  Raw, it had a bit of a nutty woodsy flavor.  I can think of a few dishes to make with this, so I pick up two small maitakes.  My friend gave me another dozen eggs from his hens.  Local eggs--check.  Some burrata and feta from the market and I have enough for about two weeks of meals.

So here are recipes of some of the meals I made this week with local ingredients.  As an added bonus, they take less than 20 minutes to prepare from start to finish:


Meal 1:    
Stir Fried Water Spinach
2 Bunches of Water Spinach
2 Tablespoons of Black Bean Paste
2 Tablespoons Soy Sauce
4 cloves of Garlic (chopped)
2 Tablespoons of Grape seed Oil

Cut the stems and split in half.  Chop the rest of the spinach.  Wash thoroughly.  
In a wok or pan, heat the oil and garlic until browned.  Add the bean paste (you can purchase at an Asian store--its just soy bean, sugar, and sesame oil).  
Add the water spinach and soy sauce.
Stir fry until the spinach is wilted.

Fried Egg
Half of one small Spanish Onion
2 Eggs (beaten)
2 Tablespoons Grape seed Oil
Slice the onion into thin strips
Heat oil in a pan and add the onion.  Stir fry until the onion is wilted.
Add the beaten egg and fry with the onion, turning over until browned and cooked.
I eat this meal with brown rice and a mix of fish sauce, lime, and chopped fresh chili peppers for the egg.


Meal 2:
Tomatoes & Cilantro
Pint of cherry tomatoes
3 garlic cloves (chopped)
1/8 cup cilantro (chopped)
2 Tablespoons of Olive Oil
Salt and Pepper to taste
Rinse the tomatoes and place in a baking dish with the olive oil, garlic, cilantro and salt and pepper.  Mix together and bake at 350 degrees for 15 minutes (or until the tomatoes pop).

 

Carbonara Pasta
1/2 cup chopped Pancetta
1/2 cup white wine
4 cloves garlic (chopped)
2 Tablespoons Olive Oil
1 Teaspoon Red Pepper Flakes
1/2 cup shelled Peas
8 oz of Spaghetti
2 Egg Yolks, beaten
Parmesan Cheese (shaved)
Salt and Pepper to Taste
Boil water for the pasta.  At the same time, brown the pancetta in a pan.  
Add Olive Oil and brown the garlic.  
Add red pepper flakes and wine until the wine is almost evaporated.
In a separate bowl, add 2 tablespoons of boiled water from the pasta to the beaten egg yolk.
Add the al dente pasta to the pan and mix with peas, salt and pepper with the mixture above.
Turn off the heat.
Pour the egg over the pasta and mix.
Put in a bowl and garnish with the Parmesan Cheese.

Meal 3:
Mussels in Shrimp Paste and Holy Basil
1 pound of Mussels
2 Tablespoons of Shrimp Paste
3/4 cup white wine
1 Tablespoon of Butter
1/4 cup scallion (chopped)
1/8 cup Holy Basil (chopped)
1/4 lemon juice
Cilantro (chopped for garnish)
Clean and scrub the mussel shells.
Heat a pan large enough to hold the mussels.  When the pan is hot, add the shrimp paste (this shrimp paste is made with dried shrimp, shallots, garlic, soy bean oil, dried chili, sugar and fish sauce that I grind in a mortar and keep in the fridge...you can also purchase at an Asian grocery) and butter until melted.  
Add white wine until it begins to boil.  
Add mussels and lower the heat.  Cover the pan until the mussels open (about 10 minutes).
Add scallion, holy basil and lemon juice.  Turn off the heat and mix.

I eat this with toasted garlic bread.


Arugula, Fennel and Maitake Salad
A mix of thinly sliced fennel, arugula and maitake mushroom petals.  Top with shaved parmesan cheese.  Dress with juice of a 1/4 lemon, flax (or olive) oil, salt and pepper.

Learn more about Eda at http://edamame2003.blogspot.com/   

I was walking with Ethan the other day and suddenly he let go of my hand and made a mad dash towards an empty water bottle about to roll into the street.  He grabbed hold of the water bottle and brought it over to me proudly.  Kind of the same way my German Shepherd, Agnes, used to run and fetch the drooly tennis ball.  “Look mommy, “ Ethan said, “it’s litter.  I stopped it from becoming litter.”

“What do you plan on doing with the litter?”, I asked, motioning to a nearby garbage can on the street.  He walked over to the municipal garbage can, inspected it and said, ‘it’s not for recycling.’  Then continued our walk holding on to the dirty water bottle for another 20 minutes until we arrived at our destination and asked the receptionist if there was a recycle bin and insisted on checking for the recycle symbol on the receptacle before letting go of the bottle.   On an ecological level, this is on par with having the peace of mind that your child is polite and courteous, saying please and thank you even when you’re not around to remind him (though we’re still working on that part).  I felt a sense of satisfaction that I had helped instill the values of environmental consciousness within my son.  

My son had reached another milestone in his life--like walking at a year old, talking at two years old, reading at five.  Ethan is growing up without taking his world for granted.  He innately takes on the responsibility of environmental stewardship--it will be a way of life for him, and not an issue that we, as adults, need to fight for with our petitions and votes.  It's a bittersweet victory for me because it is juxtaposed with the stomach churning I feel these days.  With my parents visit these past few weeks, I am reminded that I live in between the future hope of my son’s world and the helplessness I feel in the world of my past.

In my parents' defense, they have lived through so many changes.  Today’s eco-conscious world must be like coming anew to America or learning how to use e-mail.  I can’t blame them for not knowing, but I can try to teach them.  My attempts to do so, however, makes me feel  helpless--that I am making no impact with my choices.  Upon returning from my stay in New York, I came home to find several alien items of the environmentally toxic kind in my home--the Lysol Disinfecting Spray, the Clorox wipes, the Re-Nuzit air freshener!

When I tried to gently remind my parents that I’m ‘clean’--that I prefer my household products phosphate, chlorine, and ammonium free, it created an opportunity for them to rail on about how I am in the less than 20%  minority that buys in to the marketing hype of over priced products with designer names.  That our government would never allow toxic ingredients in our household cleansers.

Even without any scientific knowledge, the smell alone is enough to intuitively know that these products are doing more harm than cleaning.  So I started reading and researching.  Many of these chemical based disinfectants can deactivate sensory nerve endings. They attack the liver, kidneys, spleen, pancreas, and the central nervous system and it can take over a year to eliminate the unhealthy effects of spraying the slightest amount.  Yuck.

Air fresheners interfere with our ability to smell by releasing nerve-deadening agents or coating nasal passages with an oil film that accumulates in fat cells and over-stimulates the nervous system.  Sodium laurel sulfate is found in many shampoos and body washes and has been found to lower brain function.

While many of the leading manufacturers have jumped on the eco bandwagon with new product lines with names like, ‘Nature’s Source’ (SC Johnson) and ‘Green Works’ (Clorox), they still don’t always list the ingredients of their products.  By not doing so, makes me suspect that there is more green washing than cleaning going on with these products.  In reading labels, 'eco-friendly' doesn't quite cut it as far as what we need to know about these products.  I would place more weight in seeing words like ‘solvent-free,’ ‘no petroleum-based ingredients’ and ‘no phosphates’.  

Since most of my time has been occupied with moving, and detoxifying my new home, instead of food recipes, I’m listing recipes for a conscious household this week.  What's interesting is that these home remedies have been around long before factory made products and now we're finding that they are just as effective and risk free:

For clogged sinks, tubs and toilets: Baking Soda and Vinegar (remember those volcano experiments in grade school?)

De-Greasing Dishes, Countertops, pots and pans: Vinegar and Water

Rug and Furniture Stains: Salt

Laundry Stain Remover: Lemon Juice

De-Static for the Dryer: Old Tennis Ball

Air Freshener: Fresh cut flowers and a little open window ventilation, soy-based candles

Learn more about Eda at http://edamame2003.blogspot.com/   

I’ve been back in Santa Monica for about a day now.  I’ve gotten lost--taken the wrong turn about three times already.  Driving aimlessly down streets in my neighborhood that I know lead to nowhere I need to be.  Over the last few days in New York, I’ve woken in the middle of the night worried and obsessing when and if my lemons will return and if my new lime tree will produce fruit this summer.  I know this is not normal.  It almost seems fitting that this is happening on the first day of Mercury Retrograde, and I could just blame it on the stars, but then I realize that perhaps this is a manifestation of my anxiety.  

Six weeks in New York, working on a television production and being away from my son didn’t seem stressful to me at the time.  Likely because I used the time without Ethan to concentrate on getting the task at hand done (the mom/producer me really did get more done before 6am and after 10pm than non-mom producer me ever did in a day).  In my free time, occupying myself with the yin/yang of discovering just about every new restaurant of note opening in New York last month (Jean George Vongerichten’s ABC Kitchen, David Chang’s Ma Peche and Keith McNally’s Pulino) juxtaposed by several strolls down memory lane.  

As if in an homage to the Ghost of Christmas Past, my corporate apartment was on the exact same street as the first building I ever lived in New York.  My first New York apartment was ostentatious, with its 2-story waterfall in the lobby and white-gloved doormen.  I shared a one-bedroom, along with the one futon we could afford with a girl friend.  We had no other furniture until someone donated a couch--which my friend took over as her bed and bed room.  I used to chuckle that I lived in a building so far beyond my means.  Little did the NY professionals and on-air hosts who shared my walls know that everyday, I searched for change in the couch/bed to take the train; or that I had budgeted $1 a day for food.  Buttered noodles with black pepper; cheese on special days when I found an extra quarter.  My roommate would eat an entire bag of Ruffles or Lay’s potato chips for dinner (likely also $1).

Before you feel too badly for my early epicurean misfortune, there were dates.  At least three evenings a week, wined and dined by young Wall Street traders and partner hopefuls at Manhattan’s  prestigious white shoe law firms.   But its not Le Bernadin or Gramercy Tavern that I re-visit on this trip, but an ACC college themed BBQ restaurant and bar.  It was owned by the most significant eX next to my former husband.  Strangely re-appearing in my life after nearly 15 years of no contact.  He found me through a social networking site a year ago; said he had moved to a Caribbean island, married and had a son.  Cut to me living again near my old New York apartment, passing by a new location of this BBQ restaurant and thinking back to when we met at one of his bars.  50 dozen roses delivered to my apartment, a whirlwind romance and then before I knew it, five years had gone by.  I can’t exactly remember why it ended.  He was busy.  I was busy trying to get his attention.  But on this day, he called.  He was in New York.  Visiting his son after a divorce.  

After all these years, I still haven’t learned much on the relationship front, but as a life lesson; I don’t believe in coincidences--everything happens for a reason.  I didn't see him, so on this day, perhaps the reason he re-entered my life was to help me with a wrap party for the show I was working on.  So now I've come full circle, ending this latest trip to New York almost the same way I began my life in New York nearly 20 years ago--at this BBQ bar.

And now I’m back home, with the love of my life, my little Ethan.  Since his visit to New York, he’s been feeling under the weather, but insisted we go for a hike.  ‘Don’t forget the tangerines’, he reminds me on the way out the door.  We just read Ruth Stiles Gannett’s dragon trilogy.  The main character in the book, Elmer Elevator eats tangerines and uses the peels as a trail to find his way home.  And conveniently, the baby dragon of the book, eats the peels (and cabbage); so Ethan wanted to make sure we would be able to  find our way home, and share our food with the animals in the woods.

We tried a new trail called Los Liones, close to our new home.  Yes, finally the source of the stress is revealed.  Mid-way through my stint in New York, I made the decision to leave our little home in Santa Monica for another little home, in Pacific Palisades, a bubble of a community, nestled along the Pacific Ocean, between Santa Monica and Malibu.  I’m not sure if logically, this was the best decision for us, and on paper, its 6 of one; half a dozen of another.  But there is a positive energy that I am trusting--that is of change. 

Change has been good to us this year--yes, it’s taken me away from home for 4 months, but its helped us both grow.  Its helped us both become more independent, confident and we don’t take our time together for granted.  It is this change that has helped propel us from our inertia.  Like Mercury Retrograde, it's been a chance to catch up and look back in order to move forward.  

I doubt I will leave for an extended amount of time without Ethan again, but I am fortunate that I was able to do so with the help of my family.  After nearly six years of being a single parent, I did go home again--or at least I brought my home to Ethan.  My parents dropped everything and came to live with Ethan while I was away; both my brother and sister's families welcomed Ethan as a brother during the summer months in Chicago. So in the spirit of reflection and holding on to touchstones of familiarity, I’m sharing the mother of all recipes, my mother’s Pad Thai.  

I could describe this dish in my own words, but thought the words of my 11 year old niece, and budding foodie, says it best:  Alex's Taste of Home

The Mother of all Pad Thai