Hordes of marauders

It's been a while but this post has been rattling around in my head for the last few months.

I've devoted a significant amount of energy this summer to learning how to garden in the northeast again. In a lot of ways it's like riding a bike --it is after all the climate I grew up in. Yet at the same time, it's come with its own challenges.

One of the things I grew this summer is Swiss Chard. I grew it as an ornamental more than a food crop because it's beautiful. At the same time, I've eaten from my ornamental chard more than once. Here's a photo of it I Instagrammed when it was in its prime.

Lovely, isn't it? I should say, "wasn't it?" because it's been decimated by the most unlikely of marauders.

Meet the American Goldfinch, Carduelis tristis.

via

My bird guides assure me that goldfinches are strictly seed eaters.

However, I now know that goldfinches like to supplement their meager diet of seeds with fresh, succulent Swiss Chard. Here's a photograph I took from the kitchen window during one of the finches' nightly raids.

©Paul Anater

I've seen as many as four goldfinches perched on the remains of that Swiss Chard at the same time, so I know it's not just a single bird with a taste for salad greens. It's wasn't just a one time thing either. The neighborhood goldfinches, and only the goldfinches, descend on that poor Swiss Chard every evening at dusk.

I like to think of myself as a pretty aware guy when it comes to what happens in the world around me. I know a lot about the birds and bugs with whom I share my part of the world. With that said, I have never heard of goldfinches raiding a garden. Rabbits and chipmunks I expect and know how to handle. But chard loving goldfinches? Who ever heard of such a thing? Gangs of marauding goldfinches --what's next?

Water for People

It's no great secret that I have some pretty strong relationships with a number of manufacturers. In all of these cases, I get involved with brands that make exceptional products and that are staffed by some truly great people.

One of those great brands is Blanco. I sit on Blanco's Design Council and I count the members of their marketing department and the staff of their advertising agency to be friends as well as colleagues. Blanco makes amazing sinks and faucets and the quality of their products is enough to make me a fan. What cements my affection is Blanco's willingness to take on new initiatives and to support causes that make the world a better place.

One of their newest causes is a foundation called Water for People. Water for People advocates for and provides permanent, sustainable, potable water sources for impoverished people who'd otherwise lack access to clean water and sanitation.

As part of Blanco's ongoing support of Water for People's mission, Blanco is currently running a fundraiser via their new YouTube video, Faucet Innovations.


Each click on that video will earn Water for People a $1 donation to help them fulfill their mission. So click on that video and send the link to your friends.

I consider myself to be pretty water conscious. Yet I can't help but think that I spent the weekend spraying potable water on my newly planted vegetable garden. Gardening for me is a hobby and having so much clean water at my fingertips that I can spray it on my tomatoes with abandon is something I take for granted.

But for most of the world's population, finding clean water is not a given and growing food for a hobby isn't an option. Organizations like Water for People are out to change that. Blanco's ready to help you to make a difference and all you need to do is click on a video. Click it!

I love Instagram!

I know, I know, it's been months since I've written a post on either of my sites. It's a curious thing though; after five years of documenting my every move on a blog I'm kind of burned out. However, that doesn't mean I'm burned out on public self-expression. I've discovered something new.

My hand after a weekend's work in the yard

Well, new for me at any rate. That thing is Instagram and I'm mad for it. Instagram is a photo composition and sharing platform if you're not aware of it. On Instagram, a user is forced to take a pre-framed photo on his or her phone and then run it through any of 20 pre-set filters. Technically, someone can upload any photo from one's phone, even ones taken with a good camera. I think that's cheating a bit, so all of mine are taken with my HTC OneX. My photos post automatically to Twitter and Facebook, so if you follow me there you're already subjected to my daily onslaughts. If you're an Instagrammer, please follow me at my profile there. I love to see other people's work with that platform. Even if you don't follow me, you can see my whole Instagram portfolio by following that link. 

I'm convinced that the shackles Instagram places on me make me a better photographer. As I'm fond of saying too, captioning my photos is almost as creative an activity as composing my shots. I'll be the first to admit that not all of my Instagram photography is great or even good. To quote my Dad however, "Sometimes a blind pig can find an acorn." Some of my Instagrams are good and some of them make me feel like I'm a good photographer. Here are some of the highlights of my year spent on Instagram. 

Part of dinner last weekend

 Rural morning

Icarus and Daedalus

I do love Philadelphia

Train station

Dinner with my friend (and fellow Instagrammer) Mike

Olympian in Atlanta

Make a wish

Morning walk

Au printemps

Baking a cake with one of my nephews

Winter window

Road from my brother Dave's last autumn

Malachai!

Tobacco fields in Pennsylvania

Baking bread in Florida

             

A brave new recipe

One of my nieces has some health problems and as a result of that lives a gluten-free existence. She's home from college this weekend and since I love to bake and I love her, I decided to make something decadent that she could actually eat.

I'd never attempted a gluten-free baking before so I did some research. I wanted to bake something that had actual flavor and texture and since she loves chocolate, I settled on brownies with a ganache frosting. Again, because I like to bake and I'm pretty good at it, I hybridized a bunch of recipes I found and came up with a gluten-free brownie that had not only my niece, but everybody else clamoring for more.

I can handle myself in a kitchen, but a food stylist I'm not. Here's a photo of my finished recipe never the less:

Here's what I whipped up:

Gluten-free brownies
2/3 cup almond flour

1/3 cup rice flour
1 cup semi-sweet chocolate chips
6 tablespoons butter
1/2 teaspoon salt
3/4 cup sugar
1 tablespoon vanilla extract
2 eggs
1 cup crushed walnuts
1 cup bittersweet chocolate chips

Ganache
9 oz. semi-sweet chocolate chips
1 cup heavy cream

Preheat the oven to 325 degrees with a rack in the lower third of the oven. Line an 8x8-inch metal baking pan across the bottom and up two opposite sides with baking parchment.

Take almond flour, mix it with the rice flour and set aside.

Place the chocolate, butter and salt in the top of a large double boiler over barely simmering water. Stir frequently until the chocolate is melted and the mixture is smooth. Remove the bowl and let cool for 5 minutes.

Stir in the sugar and vanilla. Stir in the eggs one at a time. Add the almond and rice flour mixture and stir until moistened, and then mix briskly about 40 strokes. Stir in the walnuts and chocolate chips.

Scrape the batter into the prepared pan and spread it evenly. Bake for around 30 minutes or until the brownies are slightly puffed all over and a toothpick inserted into the center comes out moist but clean. Cool the pan on a rack. Run a knife along the unlined sides of the pan to detach the brownies. Lift the edges of the parchment paper to remove the brownies. Cut into squares or leave them intact if you want to frost them.

I'm sure they'd be perfectly fine without any frosting, but I wanted to give them an extra kick. For reasons I'll never understand, a lot of people think ganache is difficult to make but really, it's a snap.

Take a cup of heavy cream and bring it to a gentle boil. Remove from the heat before it has a chance to froth up. Add nine ounces of semi-sweet chocolate chips and whisk until the chocolate's completely melted and you've achieved a uniform consistency. That usually takes two to three minutes. You now have a ganache. In its current form, it will be a very thick liquid and when it sets it'll have the consistency of fudge.

To turn the ganache into a frosting, whip it until it gets the consistency of frosting. That will take about ten minutes with a mixer or about a half an hour if you're using a hand whisk.

Frost the brownies then set them in the fridge to let the ganache firm up a bit before you cut them into squares.

These things are by no means low calorie, low fat or low anything else. But they're very good and they're gluten-free.

Let me vent a little about Houzz

I used to write for Houzz. I'll be forever grateful for the exposure and dealing with the editorial side of that site was nothing but a pleasure. Would that all online forums were as well-run as Houzz. That's due almost exclusively to the hard work of editor Sheila Schmitz by the way.

There are few editors I've worked with who've made real assignments, appraised delivered work and provided much needed direction as well as she did. All hail Sheila Schmitz!

Houzz.com started out just a couple of years ago and has since grown into one of the go to places on the internet for designers and Architects to show their work. At the same time, it's become a place for homeowners and potential customers to interact.

This is great.

However, it's been nearly two years since I stopped writing for Houzz. Yet every day I get at least one e-mail from a Houzz reader who's asking a question about something he or she saw in one of my Houzz posts.

When I have time I answer those e-mails but as often as not I ignore them because they're moronic questions.

As I repeated constantly on my blog and on Houzz, there are no standard names for granite slabs. What's Uba Tuba in Florida is called Labrador in New York.  Natural stone is a natural product and even stones that come from the same quarry change radically over time. You cannot order a natural stone counter out of a catalog and you have to pick the slabs your counters will be made from in person.  Deal with it.

If you  want a stone that's gray-ish brown with little movement or if you want a schizophrenic blue, just describe what you're looking for to your salesperson. He or she will set you up with the stone you're looking for.

Contrary to what you may believe, sales people in kitchen and bath showrooms don't exist to extort money from you. It may sound counter intuitive, but these people will actually save you money. The budget you have set for yourself shouldn't be a secret. Walk up to someone in a showroom and say something along the lines of "I have $25,000 to re-do my kitchen, go!" That's a much better use of your time and their time than leaving them to guess how much money you have to spend.

The idea of getting three bids is crap too. Find someone you trust and who can work with your budget. If he or she has a good reputation you're done. Except for writing checks of course. Be sure that anybody you hire is licensed in the state where you live.

If you're concerned about staining, don't get counters made from natural stone. Granite will stain and marble much more so. In my mind those stains are like the wrinkles around my eyes. Stained counters and my wrinkled face show the world that we've lived a full life. One of my favorite stories about marble involves a wonderful, former client named Margaret. Margaret had triplets who were ten when we re-did her kitchen. I designed a bar at the end of her counter so her kids could do their homework as she put dinner together,

I went to see her a year after we re-did her kitchen I saw that her bar was covered with crayon and smudge marks. When I mentioned it she said "For the rest of our lives, my kids will always be ten when I see the marks they left in my kitchen."

That's why people get natural stone counters. If you're not prepared for your kids' crayons or your own dough kneading to leave a mark, than don't get a natural stone counter.

Beware the yahoos who claim that they can put a granite counter in your kitchen for $20/ sq.ft. That's an impossibility and it guarantees you a miserable experience.

When a cabinet's billed as "cherry-stained" it's not cherry. The people who make wood stains use the colors and tones of natural wood as model when they formulate their stains. Oak called "walnut" isn't walnut and heaven protect anybody who puts a stain on actual walnut. Maple is naturally blond, cherry runs between blond and brown, hickory has nearly black streaks on a blond background, birch is an iridescent gold and oak is oak.

Finally, colors on your computer screen aren't real. Between the distortion of your non-calibrated monitor and the non-calibrated camera of the source, nothing looks the same as the photo you see on the web. Don't ask what the wall color of a photo you see on Houzz or Pinterest is. Whatever color it is for real won't look anything like what you see on a website.

The smart thing to ask for (preferably from a designer) is a color that approximates what you see in an internet photo.

I enjoyed my experiences at Houzz.com and working with Sheila was a treat, but many of the questions I field could be answered by a) thinking and b) clicking on the "more information" tag on every one of Houzz's photos.

Think people, think!

Lovely, lovely Lancaster

A double rainbow as seen from my brother Steve's back yard.

I'm back in Florida after my month-long sojourn in the land of my birth, Lancaster County, Pennsylvania. I needed to prove once and for all that I can be anywhere and still put in a solid, productive workday. I passed that test with flying colors. I wanted too, to spend non-rushed time with my siblings and their families and I did plenty of that. It was an ideal month and just how beautiful that part of the US is left me dumb struck.

Alfalfa fields

Daylilies and alfalfa

My brother Steve's back yard on my first morning in Pennsylvania, 30 June 2012.

An actual covered bridge. Lancaster County, PA is lousy with them.

What a covered bridge looks like inside. Most of them were built in the 19th Century and they are an exercise in wood framing as art.

Dusk from my brother Matt's deck.

Thunderstorms gathering as seen from my brother Matt's front yard.

When I moved away from there a long time ago, I could never see the place as anything but a small town surrounded by farmland. The combination of those two things 20+ years ago was all I needed to know in order for me to seek greener pastures. I wanted to live in a bigger city and I wanted to escape winter.

As I barrel toward 50 I can see the place through a different set of eyes and the things I once fled are the same things I now ache for. The very idea of winter weather still fills me with the same loathing it always has, but there's a lot to be said for market shopping with my sister-in-law, going to the movies with an army of my nieces and nephews, and just sitting and talking with my brothers. Seeing family friends and treading on familiar ground capped off a truly great month. Feeling wanted and loved involved nothing more than showing up, and that was nothing short of bliss. That those many, many people have known me my whole life, that they've stood by as I've worked through my conflicts and trials, and can still find love for me makes my head spin.

A covered hitching post at the Green Dragon market in  Ephrata.

Produce stand at the Green Dragon

This is a butcher's stall at the Green Dragon. The objects in the center of this photo are pig stomachs - pre-filled with fresh sausage, onion and potato. I think this qualifies as a convenience food.

A produce stand at the Green Dragon

Beets, broccoli and potatoes at Lancaster's Central Market

A shot of the stalls in Lancaster's Central Market.

Lancaster's Central Market as seen from Penn Square, the center of Lancaster City.

Lancaster's Central Market was established by King George III in the 1720s. It's the oldest open market in the United States.

 

A tobacco field in blossom. The flowers have to be removed by hand so the plant can make the leaves more robust.

Real tomatoes, fresh from the fields

My family's enormous and Sunday dinners usually involved at least 25 people. Baking bread and deserts for an appreciative audience of that size was far more enjoyable than I ever thought it would be. Whether it was a dinner built around a bushel of Chesapeake blue crabs or fresh pork loins, I ate better last month than I have in ages. Life in farm country brings with it the smell of manure that's true. But it also brings with it fresh produce that made me rethink my whole definition of that term. Buying sweet corn at $2 a dozen or tomatoes at 6 for a buck, corn and tomatoes that had been picked that morning, has me looking at the produce aisles at Publix with nothing short of disdain.

As much as I wanted it not to be true when I was younger, the rolling hills of southern Pennsylvania are part of me. They're in my DNA, figuratively and literally. Driving a truck down dirt roads and barking at my nephews about gun safety seemed natural - I was just flexing old muscles. Visiting the churchyards and settlements established by my ancestors nearly 300 years ago brought into sharp focus that I'm part of a continuum, a line of people who lived and died before me, just as there are many who'll live and die after my time on earth's done. My struggles and conflicts really don't mean a whole lot when they're splayed against a  history I can see and touch.

This is the grave marker of my first ancestors in the new world. Husband and wife Sampson and Agnes Smith are both commemorated  by this slab of marble. Though you can't read it from this photo, the whole surface of it is engraved with a testament to their lives. Sampson arrived in Philadelphia in 1740 and died in 1781 in Chestnut Level, PA in 1781. Agnes died in 1790. One of their daughters is buried next to them.

This is the Chestnut Level Presbyterian Church. My first ancestor on this side of the Atlantic, Sampson Smith, was this church's third pastor, from 1760 to 1781. He supervised the construction of this building. The home he built still stands nearby.

This is a shallow creek crossing near Chestnut Level. My brother's driving over it and our ancestors would have been intimately familiar with this creek in the 18th Century.

The part of Pennsylvania I once called home predates the United States and the fingerprints of the time when it was a British Colony are all over the place. That countryside and the buildings that still stand from that era lived through a war for independence, they witnessed the birth of a new republic, they stood by as that new republic wrestled with slavery and a civil war. That place and those buildings aren't just a testament to my ancestors, they're a testament to this country's ability to work its way through conflict and all of it's a celebration of the glory of human potential. If you get lulled into the belief that life's difficult now, imagine what it must have been like in the 18th Century.

This is St. James Episcopal Church in downtown Lancaster, it's been there for a very long time. It's where George Washington and his peers would have attended services when they were in town.

Like I said, St. James has been around for quite a while.

These are very typical, 19th Century row houses that make up the bulk of the housing in Lancaster City.

More row houses, probably built during the War of 1812.

I love the wording on this sign.

An 18th Century row house that's still a single-family home, downtown Lancaster.

So now that I'm back I'll make the best of it. I landed another big marketing client and've been cast on a nationally syndicated TV show in the last two weeks. Add that to my current work load and I have a lot going on and even more to be grateful for. I don't think I'll be moving back to Pennsylvania any time soon but I will be spending more time there as the next few years unfold. For now though, I'm back on my living room sofa and wishing I had a group of people to cook dinner for. Thanks to all of you I spent time with last month and to everybody I missed, I'll catch you during my next visit.