Author: Suzannah Kolbeck

50/100 Things To Love About 2020

Boomey is judging all of 2020. #stinkeye

The irony is not lost on me that this is the year that I decided to emulate Austin Kleon’s annual “100 Things to Love about _____.”

First, comes COVID, a righteous clusterfuck if ever there was one. So much suffering.

And in the midst of this, the final straw of George Floyd and (add more names here). It’s not like police killing Black people is new. But combine this with a pandemic and horrible politicians and it hits harder. Different. And hopefully this time will be different (but I believe change will only occur when the revolution is violent. Viva la Revolucion.  I am here for it.).

Finally, sometime in September, I accidentally deleted every. Single. File. On my computer.

All of them. My writing. My photography. My mercenary writing.

A week at the computer doc recovered nothing, but some things magically reappeared, and, by some stroke of luck/genius, I was able to recover 100% of my writing because I had either printed out or submitted all of my work in the past year, so there was a record of everything, cobbled together.

Now I have everything precious saved on two thumb drives, and I save to another once a week (my working drive).

One of the things that was deleted and not recovered was the original version of this list, up to about 70 things. There were links, and longer entries.

I am going to do my level best to remember what I wrote, but with caveats: they will no longer be in the order in which I experienced them (which is a nice little way to remember a year), and they won’t have the sensory immediacy that I had when I wrote them.

But that’s ok. We will manage.

50/100 Things To Love About 2020

1. The Grand Hotel and Spa in Ocean City, MD (room 1001, with a view of the sunrise over the ocean and the sunset over the Bay), just before COVID became reality, so it was nothing to go to a hotel in the off-season and then site cheek-by-jowl at the bar to dine at an incredible restaurant the last night I was there.

2. Biking the Everglades with Vismaya. The Shark Valley area that leads to the lookout tower, with crows who can open the bag with your lunch and a snake that eats a bird.

This needs a picture. There was a video, but that was lost.

3. The chance to start over, and the feeling of gratitude that comes when you realize that the slate is wiped clean, whether by choice or by chance. To recalibrate and live the life you envisioned as a child.

4. Susquehanna State Park. The black trail that parallels the water and features blue herons. A gift of a day when 30 blue herons perched in the river, fishing, while juvenile bald eagles hovered on the air current above the river, diving for fish.

5. Finishing three paintings with a theme: The Poetics Series. The first inspired by a poem (”Dropping Keys” by Hafiz) and the second two inspiring poems (“Precarious Thoughts” and “Collecting Tin” – all three are available for purchase and can be viewed at Cobalt Workspace in Hampden, Baltimore!)

6. Getting waitlisted at Brush Creek (and then Brush Creek closing – not good, but part of the life cycle of COVID, I suppose)

7. The late summer/early fall breeze coming through the window.

8. Fresh blackberry lavender jam from Martha’s blackberries and lavender. Incorporated into what might be the very most perfect cake in all of the land: Blackberry (Lavender) Naked Cake With White Chocolate Buttercream.

9. Canning peaches, also from Martha.

10. Hiking the Appalachian Trail for the first time. Annapolis Rocks, on a perfect summer day, early, with very few hikers.

11. Lewis Orchards, about a mile away from Greenbrier State Park, with the best peaches in Maryland (and a better price, at $5/peck for seconds, which mostly consisted of peaches that needed more ripening but were sweet and delicious).

12. Dinner at The Shark on the Harbor in in Ocean City. Being inexplicably social that evening and meeting a lovely retired man and his wife as we ate a delicious meal at the bar together (a short week before the specter of COVID shut everything down). Feeling unexpectedly grown up and settled in myself for having that experience.

13. Homegoing by Yaa Gyasi, and her second brilliant novel, Transcendent Kingdom, read in one go in front of the fireplace at New Germany State Park.

14. Making tea blends from things I have grown and/or foraged. Lemon balm plants that don’t quit on the balcony.

15. Cabin ____ at New Germany State Park, and the unexpected internet signal that allowed me to get a text from KWeeks on the front porch as I ate lunch while watching a storm roll in. I don’t want to tell you which cabin – it’s hard enough to get a reservation.

16. Sausage with mustard and caramelized onions.

17. Crispy quinoa granola – maybe better than my perfect granola recipe.

18. Hiking trails all to myself in New Germany State Park. Adventuring meanders for five days as part of a hiking/writing retreat.

19. The satisfaction of putting up silver corrugated metal as a porch roof to keep the rain off for less than $100, after getting two quotes to do it, one for $600 and another for $4200.

20. Writing someone else’s life story – being hired to write a memoir after speaking aloud my intention to look for larger pieces of work. Seeing more of that work on the horizon. Struggling with the task as something much different than the smaller pieces I have become accustomed to. Leaning into that.

21. Levis 314 jeans. FUCKING FINALLY jeans that fit and don’t cost $100. Plus, 3/14 is my birthday, and I will be motherfucking 50 in 2021, so feel free to send along an appropriate tribute. #pleaseandthankyou

22. Raising $450 doing Bakers Against Racism and matching that to donate $450 each to City Ranch and Wide Angle Youth media.

23. The fall Renewal with Martha Rogers of Full Moon Acupuncture. Space to develop a morning ritual of coffee, yoga, breakfast, and morning pages.

24. The return of The Great British Baking Show in October 2020.

25. Getting published in 50Haikus and Scarlet Leaf Review.

26. Approaching my goal of 100 rejections by the end of 2020.

27. Making my goal of saving two years’ worth of basic living expenses by the end of 2020. Not even a humble brag. But a huge relief in a job that has zero guarantees and now more than ever is precarious at best. But see #43 on how that turned out for me.

28. Learning more about wildcrafting and herbalism through She is of the Woods. Making fire cider for the first time, as well as dandelion oxymel, goldenrod tincture, lemon balm tincture, and blue spruce cough syrup, all from foraged plants.

29. A weekend at John Cage Park with Khristian, trying to figure out how we might collaborate. Coming home unfortunately with a mysterious series of bites.

30. Crabcake egg rolls with spicy pineapple dipping sauce, made from crab harvested from the Chesapeake Bay and picked on the eastern shore.

31. Stuff You Should Know. Especially their two-part podcast on the Tylenol Murders.

32. Ruth Asawa and her remarkable sculpture and drawing. Also, KWeeks for getting me her amazing biography, Everything She Touched, also read during my idyll at New Germany State Park.

33. Fruits & Vegetable stamps from the USPS.

34. The possibility of seeing Gerhard Richter’s show in Los Angeles, most likely his last and one of his largest, a retrospective worth driving across the country for (since I missed in when it was in New York, a scant four hours away, because I wasn’t paying attention).

35. Blue Quail 2017 pinot noir.

36. Getting the green light on a foraging book with a focus on wildcrafting herbal medicines for the urban dweller. Scheduled to be published late fall of 2021 by Akinoga Press.

37. Taking horseback riding lessons at Graham Equestrian Center. If I had known that such bliss and contentment and focus and awareness was available to me, I would not have waited so long.

38. The first snow of the year, beautiful, fat flakes that were magical while they lasted and then gave way to sleety, icy bullshit (but this list is not about that).

39. Doing yoga every day starting in September. Following Arianna Elizabeth, Nancy Nelson, and Yoga with Adrienne. The first time I have ever had a stable home practice.

40. Hand-poured candles from KSM Candle Company. They have been sold out for most of the pandemic, good news for them, but super challenging because their candles are delicious, local, and handcrafted by a Black woman. Win, win, win.

41. CBD oil from Seed2System. So, so good. Ticks all the boxes: organic plants, no chemical processing, and great customer service. I wrote for them for a bit, but I am a convert to treat anxiety without benzos. Full-spectrum CBD oil. Look for sales (they have great ones).

42. Bitter orange marmalade made from bitter orange harvested in the alley behind KWeeks’s house. It’s bitter, not gonna lie, and the sticky goo in the pith was challenging, but it’s delicious.

43. A new-to-me car, even though I had to spend most of my savings for it, and I wasn’t quite done with the old car, which died unceremoniously and abruptly on 95 north.

44. Ducks, Newburyport by Lucy Ellman. An astonishment of a book, along the same lines for me as David Foster Wallace’s Infinite Jest.

45. And while we are on the subject of incredible books, Anxious People by Frederik Backman, a quiet little novel about everyone doing the best they can and how chance encounters can shape an entire life, although not written in such a schlocky way as that summary. This same author wrote A Man Called Ove. Read that book, then watch the movie. I promise you it will be lovely.

46. Foraging for spicebush along the Susquehanna, and then turning it into spicebush dram, which smells delicious but I have yet to try.

47. Helping KWeeks with the final shot of his piece The Realest in Leakin Park.

48. A visit to the beach, mid-July. Not a populated beach – a tiny stretch of sand at the end of a dead-end road in Delaware where we parked the tiny house for two years. A brief, relaxed interlude when COVID walls felt like they were closing in.

49. The ritual of the last day of the year – cleaning the house, doing laundry, provisioning to promote a feeling of abundance.

50. Early morning walks on the last day of the year. The sliver of a sunrise peeking blood-red gold through the clouds – red skies in the morning promising a rainy first day of 2021. An opportunity, even as things remain the same, to feel washed clean and renewed.

Looking forward to starting this list again in 2021, starting with a rainy first-day hike and a 30-day commitment to a breath practice with Adriene.

Rising from the mud, what were the highlights of your year?

Pressing Pause

Image by KWeeks. Used with permission.

A week ago today, the nation suffered through the actual day of election after weeks of mail-in ballots and early voting and pontificating and bullshit leading up to it..

Four days later, president-elect Joe Biden was announced while the current president went golfing and the nation’s COVID rate spiked sharply.

Today, the current administration refuses to acknowledge their defeat. They believe, somehow, that election results favoring Republicans down ballot were somehow legitimate but the main event was bogus, a stolen election, a lie.

Preposterous. Unthinkable. A coup being staged by senior administration officials in the current administration. A(nother) stain on this country.

I am having a hard time spending time on this blog. I will still bake, cook, and write. But it seems insignificant and stupid to post anything right now.

Now is a time for reflection, renewed action, and meaningful planning.

Look after the vulnerable people in your life and wear your fucking mask.

Cancel your Thanksgiving plans and wash your hands.

I may or may not continue here. For now, I need to come out of the virtual space and make attempts to ground myself and not hate the 70 million people who voted (and all of those who chose, yet again, to sit one out).

Take care of yourselves. Maybe I’ll see you on the other side.

Election Day Self-Care

Looking for a light in the darkness on Election Day 2020.

It’s Election Day, 2020, and things couldn’t be more uncertain. The only thing that is crystal clear is that this day is going to last longer than 24 hours – Maryland alone has until DECEMBER 8 to count all of its votes.

So it’s crucial to mind our central nervous systems and practice some deep self-care. These are my plans for today and the rest of the week:

I have deleted the Instagram app on my phone for the next few days.

I will take a daily walk in the woods.

I have already done an hour of yoga (and will do an hour of yoga every morning).

I am on a technology fast for 12 hours a day, every day, in perpetuity.

I am planning on cooking deeply comforting foods today: crispy quinoa, African* peanut stew, and an apple galette. Tonight I will have pizza, my favorite.

I have selected a non-election-related documentary (Spaceship Earth) for election night and am busy lining up more for the rest of the week.

On Election Day 2020 I am reading Thanks A Thousand: A Gratitude Journey by my cousin A.J. Jacobs.

I am checking in with my people.

There is no certainty in the outcome of this election, and when that is the case the whole world seems to be tilted sideways. Add to this the crazy wind (blowing in some change? Is it a metaphor?) and the end of Mercury in retrograde (but still in restroshade for two weeks) and things are bound to feel unsettled.

How will you care for yourself on this day? What do you need, and how can I help?

Sunday is Funday: Waffles All Day Long

Waffles. Plain, sweet, savory, topped with chicken, or wrapped around a generous
tablespoon of Nutella. No wrong answer.

This has been a helluva a ride, 2020, and we are in for a wild few (more) weeks? Months? Years?

You can still influence that timeframe by voting if you have not already. Make it count by dropping your mail-in ballot in an official ballot box OR donning a haz-mat suit and voting in person. However you do it, VOTE.

But in the meantime we have somehow made it through another week of biblically-proportioned disasters, both natural and manmade. It’s time to rest and reset, preferably with something absolutely delicious.

Pancakes and muffins are for Saturdays, but Sunday means waffles.

Crispy on the outside, soft and steamy on the inside. I eat the first one off the iron with my hands before the lid is even closed on the second one. Drenched in maple syrup, spread with Nutella, or oozing with homemade apple butter.

Sometimes, truthfully, delightfully plain. It is brunch-y goodness.

But here’s my recent discovery: play your cards right, and you can eat waffles all day long. One recipe, minor modifications, and you have breakfast and supper all in one. 

Regular sweet waffles in the morning (ish) with whatever toppings make you feel warm and fuzzy inside.

Then in the afternoon? What about the afternoon?

Chicken and waffles, friend.

Someone has actually looked into the history of chicken and waffles, but all you really need to know is this: it is pretty much the best thing you can put in your face on a Sunday afternoon.

I like mine with a fried chicken breast or thigh (easier to eat, and ease is the rule. Purists insist on the bone. I do not.), a copious drizzle of honey-sriracha sauce, and pickled banana peppers or onions or maybe an apple slaw with vinegar and jalapeno. 

None of these things take long to make. Ten minutes, max, made while the waffles are cooking.

Easy like Sunday morning. And afternoon. As it should be.

Basic waffles

As ever, this recipe is gluten-free, but you can certainly use gluten-packed regular all-purpose flour if you’d like. 

Ingredients

2 cups gluten-free all-purpose flour blend
1/2 tsp. salt
1 T sugar (use 2 T if you are skipping the savory recipe)
3 tsp. baking powder
1 1/2 cups milk
2 eggs, beaten
1/4 cup neutral oil (you can use butter, melted and cooled, but oil is easier)
1 tsp vanilla (sweet version only)

In a medium bowl, mix the first four ingredients (the dry). In a small bowl, combine the last four ingredients (including vanilla if you are only having sweet waffles) and mix until totally combined. Add the wet to dry ingredients and stir until they are no longer lumpy.  I use a whisk and beat out any remaining frustrations from the week. #Smile #Breathe

SAVORY VARIATION

At this point, if you are planning on waffles for brunch and chicken and waffles for football snacks, move half of the waffle batter to a separate container and add 2 T chopped chives or scallions (chives give a less intense zing) and a generous grind or three of black pepper. 

Optional: up to one cup of grated cheese of your choosing. Cheese for me is gilding the lily, so I wouldn’t use it for chicken and waffles. Maybe with a burger and a fried egg. 

Cook the waffles according to the directions on your waffle maker (they all vary, so me giving directions for mine is pointless. You know your own tools, so go with your instincts on this one).

Cook the sweet waffles first, then the savory. In my waffle maker, this makes six to eight waffles, depending on how diligent I am with getting equal amounts ladled for each waffle.

When it’s time for chicken and waffles, here are a few tips:

  • Set up a breading station. Pat the chicken breasts dry. Dip into cornstarch, then a beaten egg, then a mixture of gluten-free all-purpose flour (or almond meal is delicious here) that is seasoned with salt and pepper. Let sit in the ‘fridge while the oil heats.
  • Keep frying oil at 350 degrees. This ensures a crisp coating AND cooked chicken.
  • A medium-sized chicken breast takes between ten and 15 minutes to cook. I am not above cutting one open to check. I find taking an internal temperature to be a dangerous proposition in hot oil, so I do a visual check.
  • Make these vegan. Obvi, skip the chicken and use any egg and plant milk substitute for the waffles themselves. Flax eggs would work here, and a neutral milk will serve your better (almond milk seems to come closest to neutral).

Serve these with a sauce that is equal parts honey and sriracha, or try a sauce of yogurt, Dijon mustard, and a touch of honey. Or drizzle the whole thing with maple syrup. #YourChoice

Happy Halloween: Caramel Apple Jello Shots

Because caramel apple jello shots will give us just the touch of booze
we need heading into the election.

The first year we moved into the house on 35th street, I was completely unprepared for Halloween. Our neighborhood gets between 500 and 700 trick-or-treaters annually, children who come in from other neighborhoods that are not safe to trick-or-treat in or whose neighbors lack the disposable income for bags of candy.

I am 100% here for it. It feels like a warm and loving community when people from across the city visit and chat. It’s a chance to connect with each other, even briefly, and the costumes are often spectacular.

Some neighbors complain about the kids “invading” the neighborhood, but that’s low-key racist and a little too “You kids get off my lawn!” even for me.

That first year, though, I was determined to make a good impression on my neighbors, so I whipped up a batch of caramel apple jello shots and passed them around before the onslaught of costumed ghoulies took over the street.

Instant hit. They taste exactly like caramel apples, they act as a little snack, and they are boozier than it seems like they would be. My neighbors were in awe, and I realized about five minutes in that I should have quadrupled the batch.

Use a melon baller to make these caramel apple jello shots that are deliciously boozed with butterscotch Schnapps (or caramel vodka, as you prefer). I still have some lying around from a caramel apple martini binge, but for the record, you could also buy a smaller bottle so that you won’t have years of the sweet, syrupy stuff lying around.

This year my porch light will be dark. The trick-or-treaters will still come, and I feel badly that I won’t have treats for them, but it’s just not a prudent idea. I would prefer that all of the goblins and fairies (and their parents) are around next year for treats, so I am just going to beg off. COVID can’t last forever.

Grab your ingredients, vote, for fuck’s sake, and give these a try.

Caramel Apple Jello Shots

100% not my recipe. I am copying and pasting verbatim, with links above and here to the original recipe. Why mess with perfection?

Ingredients

6 -8 Granny Smith apples
1⁄2 cup whole milk
1⁄2 cup cold water
1 (3/4 ounce) envelope hot chocolate powder (WITHOUT marshmallows)
1 (1/4 ounce) envelope of Knox unflavored gelatin
1⁄4 cup granulated sugar
2 -4 drops yellow food coloring
1⁄2 cup butterscotch schnapps (your favorite brand) or 1/2 cup caramel vodka (I use Smirnoff Kissed Caramel vodka)
1⁄4 cup lemon juice (to prevent browning of apples)

Method

In a medium saucepan, whisk together the cold water and hot chocolate envelope until no clumps are visible. DO NOT heat yet.

Once mixed thoroughly, sprinkle the envelope of Knox gelatin over the top and LET IT SIT, DO NOT STIR, for 2 minutes.

Turn your stovetop burner to a medium-low setting and completely mix in the gelatin, then add the milk and sugar. Slowly bring the mixture to a low simmer for a few minutes just until the sugar is dissolved. At this point, you can start adding the food coloring to the color you like (edited to add: food coloring is not strictly necessary).

Remove the pan from the heat and let sit until room temperature. Meanwhile, place lemon juice in a small bowl (I only use approx 1/4 cup), and prep the apples by slicing each in half from stem to bottom (do not peel).

Using the smaller end of a melon scoop (if you have the size option), carefully hollow out the inside of the apples, to where you only have approx 1/4 ” outer shell, being careful not to get too close to the outer peel. After carving each apple, dip the hollowed halves in a dish of lemon juice to coat the rim of the apples to prevent browning (you will not taste it). Place each hollowed-out half in muffin tins.

Once the mixture is just warm, you can now stir in the butterscotch Schnapps or caramel vodka. Either will work and there are many brands of both available. Mix well.

Pour enough jello mixture into each hollowed apple shell, being sure that they are level in the muffin tins. Fill to the tops of each. Place in the fridge for a minimum of 4 hours (I have even made them the night before I take them somewhere, without slicing the wedges, and just trimmed the rim of the halved apples if they had browned).

Once set, remove apples from muffin tins and slice each half into 3-4 wedges (depending on the size of your apples). Plate them on whatever tray you plan to serve on and return, loosely covered, to the fridge. (TIP: It is best to cut them just before serving since the freshly cut edges will brown).

Recipe Notes

Make these vegan by using nut milk (almond or cashew) and vegan hot chocolate.

Make these non-alcoholic by using caramel apple hot chocolate. I have only ever seen this delightfulness in single-servings, but perhaps on the interwebs there exists a large container.

Don’t feel like buying a specialized, gross bottle of Schnapps or sickly-sweet vodka? Use regular vodka and caramel hot chocolate. PROBLEM SOLVED.