I’ve been absent lately. That’s the funny thing about life, days go by like normal and then one day it just gets busy. That’s where it’s been the past few months and if it hasn’t involved work or family, then it’s taken a back seat. There just hasn’t been room or energy for anything else.  What could be so big that it could slow me down from writing? The C word. No, not that one; the other one.  Cancer.

Recently I received an email from a family member encouraging my mom and I to go in for cancer testing.  She had tested positive for the BRCA mutation and was about to go through a hysterectomy and a double mastectomy. It wasn’t her first round with cancer, and after losing my maternal grandmother to breast cancer, it was time for me to go in.

I’ll say it now, I’m horrible at self-care. Do I do my monthly breast exams? No. When was my last pap?? Ummm…well. My last mammogram? 10 years, but you know…life. I was out of excuses.

I sat in my doctors office in that sassy yet breezy paper gown thing and listed my family history of cancer. I listed my own health concerns, including the small lump that’s been there long enough that I named him, my history of breast feeding, my eating and drinking habits (sigh),  and my overall concerns about leaving my family before my time. The doc agreed that we needed to get in some additional testing, including a mammogram, skin cancer testing and even genetic assessment to figure out whether I was a carrier of the mutation. Basically, I had the “welcome to 40, you’re somewhat old, but let’s get a full work up” battery of tests.

One by one, the tests were done. I repeated the same history, the same concerns from doctor to doctor. More people saw me in that damn paper gown, my boobs were pancaked into a machine and I even awkwardly announced to my dermatologist and his assistant I wore my best granny panties. Then, I waited.

There’s this feeling when you’re waiting for big test results, it’s hard to describe. It’s consuming and you worry; what if the results come back and it’s bad? What if, what if… Life drags on slower than it should and it feels like everything is on hold, because it kind of is. There’s that moment of panic when the phone rings and the relief when you hear the good news. Normally, I’m optimistic, but I couldn’t get past the negatives. I have good health insurance, I live in a great city that is known for good medical care. I have life insurance like no one’s business if things go south. I was feeling prepared for the business of it all, but it makes you pause and think of all the things you have left to do, the emotional side, the things you want to be around for and the years you want to spend with your loved ones.

Happily my tests all came back healthy. After weeks of waiting, I felt like I could breathe, like I could sleep and I could start doing more than waiting. I’m lucky, but due to my family history, I’ll go in for a mammogram yearly as well as an ultrasound 6 months later; a rotation every 6 months for the rest of my life. It’s worth it.

But this story doesn’t end with me – because life usually isn’t that simple. My mom also went in for testing and much like my story, she had put off testing. She went in for a mammogram as well, where a spot was detected.  Both our hearts sank; we had been so excited for my clean bill of health and I’ll admit, I had figured she’d be fine too. She went in for a biopsy and again we waited.

We agreed that as soon as the results came in that she would call or text – I’d keep my cell with me during the work day, just to be available.

And we waited. When the call came that the doctor wanted to see her, we knew it wasn’t likely to be good news, but we stayed hopeful.

The next day, the text I had hoped I’d never get came in, “I’m so sorry sweetie. It’s cancer”. I felt like wind had been kicked out of me. I had already lost my dad, Izzy had a rough start to her life, couldn’t we catch a damn break? My mom in true amazing spirit was positive and ready for a fight, albeit scared about what that could entail and I was too. If this life has taught me anything, it’s this: Life isn’t always easy, it surely isn’t always fair, but if you have good support and love, you can get through the tough so much better.

So here were are now, getting through the tough and looking for the positive. Mom’s genetic testing came back great, which means that we don’t move towards radical surgery. While her tumor is an aggressive form of breast cancer, it’s small, and this is her first incidence of cancer which also is a tick mark in her favor. We’ll take the positives where we can.  We learn next steps this week and then we’ll go through the lumpectomy and lymph biopsy together. We’ll continue treatment until we’re in the clear. We’re still scared, and realistic about the challenges, but we have each other and an amazing medical team her too.

So there you go, why I’ve been MIA and one hell of a good reminder to keep up with your medical tests. Here’s to healthier, happier days and getting back to normal.  Here’s a tiny feisty me, with an equally feisty mom.

Yours in kicking cancer’s ass,

Raina

It’s New Years Day, I am sitting in bed with my lap top, covered in quilts, squeezing the last few free moments of my night before heading back to work after being gone for a week. Just like every year, I look back on what I have done, and where I want to go and want to do in the year ahead. 2017 wasn’t bad, it wasn’t great, and I don’t know about you dear reader, I am ready to be on to a new year.

Before we can look ahead, let’s look back:

This was the year of work. I celebrated 14 years at my job; saw my team size double and I took on managing people in a completely new role.  I gave up some responsibilities and had to learn how to say no and delegate more often and for the first time in quite a while, I was in learner role. I feel like I am slowly getting my feet back under me, and that sure feels good.

My side life as a blogger brought me to Portland again for Feast and to Vegas to cover Las Vegas Food Expo, I ate, I drank, and I even picked up some new ink. I worked with a couple new brands, and took time out to write a little more.  A goal I had set last year was to get out and attend more events. While the flu knocked out half of them, I still made some great connections (and of course, ate some awesome food!). This year, I want to keep up with that goal – continue to put myself out there and a big part of that will be writing.

2017 was the year of, “man, I hope this is good enough”. I had days were I felt successes and days where I felt like an utter failure. There were days full of tears and frustrations on not feeling settled and feeling like I wasn’t doing enough. Luckily though, those days were far and few between and at the end of the year, I like to think I left things better than they were at the start. I felt like Dory, telling myself, “just keep swimming”.

2017 wasn’t just about me though!  Nick celebrated 10 years at his job and was able to take a fair amount of time off for Kiddos wild adventures, although there were quite a few 70 hour weeks in there, too. He built hutches, and helped me shovel poop and didn’t look at me (too much) like a crazy person for all the things I wanted to do in my yard.

Also, this was Izzy’s second year of co op preschool, and the first complete year of her life without any surgeries or procedures.

I’ll let that sink in: My kiddo had her first full year of just being a kid and not requiring anything more than any other 4 year old.

Man, I can’t say enough how great that feels. She grew taller, and more brave and sings constantly. She’s quick to be the class mother yet again this year, soothing over conflicts and trying to help the teachers do things. She wears her heart on her sleeve and is so darned amazing reminding me that I am so lucky to be her momma.  

In the farm and garden department, we had some losses and had to cull a sick chicken. The chickens we fostered were sent to their new home and the bunnies grew fat and cute, while our hens started becoming free-loaders. I ripped out most of the grass in the front and back yards and replaced it all with play ground equipment, a new bunny house and tons of garden beds. Cuss words were hollered as I pulled out chunks of sod by hand (a good workout, by the way).  The corn grew tall and I planted way too many types of squash and cucumbers. So much that I ended up putting out a box for my neighbors to grab a few as they needed. I tried out quite a few new types of tomatoes, but found that I wasn’t as excited about them, and needed more soil in my beds for them to grow happily.

When we weren’t in the yard or at work, we played in the woods, in the snow, in the sea, and ate our way through the West Coast on a trip to Sonoma. We sat quietly through the loss of loved ones, but also celebrated the birth of babies, and new weddings as well. We cooked new dishes, danced to records and stayed up late into the night playing.

Looking back, it was really the year of just getting through. We had fun, and tasks were accomplished, but there were so many competing priorities, that often times it felt like a blur. No relishing in the moments, no sitting in the quiet, just a lot of go go go, but not a lot to show for it. This wasn’t necessarily a bad thing, but it left me wanting more and feeling restless.

2018….What do I expect and want as I move onto a new year?

To be.

This is my intention for the year.

To be more creative.
To be more present.
To be more grateful.
To be still.

Those two words seem to start off some pretty amazing things and hold some pretty great potential, so I’ll let them guide me for the next 12 months. No more rushing (as often as I can), more time for friends and creating. More sitting in the quiet, thinking. More of doing what I know I need to do to make my soul quiet and my heart happy. This is the year I hope to just be.

Plus, I still have that damn 40 by 40 list and 6 months to tick some things off.

I’m sure I’ve said this before, but this is the year to butcher at least one rabbit and some of the chickens. We’ll replace those with new ones and begin the cycle again. I’m also going to try my hand at growing new varieties of squash and tomatoes, with some other goodies as well. I’ll be sure to add posts of my progress (the good, the bad and the ugly) as I go.

This year, I hope, will be the year of doing and being versus just getting by. So dear reader, I hope you’ll stick by and watch me as I try to be more (or less if the situation requires).

What are you hoping for 2018?

Raina

“Before I can tell my life what I want to do with it, I must listen to my life telling me who I am.”
― Parker J. Palmer

Today, I am angry.

If you’ve been following any social media platform over the past few days, you’ve seen the hashtag, #metoo. This tag is to give awareness to how often women have been sexually harassed or assaulted. Post after post, message after message from my friends read, “Me too”. Some meekly acknowledged it, still holding on to the shame; others finding their voice. So many women, and some men have posted.

I remembered this post, my “me too” sitting in a draft that I have been writing for multiple years. It’s embarrassing, it’s awful. It’s one of many situations, some worse, most better. I cringe when I read the words I have written, as I don’t see myself as a victim. I am loud, tough and pride myself on my years of work in the sexual assault education, prevention and research field. THIS was my background, all I lived, breathed and ate for years. But nonetheless, it happened. This is my story.

Today, I am angry. I was angry yesterday and the day before, too. I was disappointed. I was hurt. I was trying to make it not my fault.

If you follow this blog solely for happiness, recipes and all the good stuff, you may want to pass up this post. I hope you don’t, since this needs to be read.

Saturday, I went to pick up kids books off of one of those Buy Nothing Facebook pages. As I was driving there, I passed a house; one I hadn’t seen in years. It was a house that belonged to a man who tried to assault me.

I passed his house and I froze. I stopped my car in the middle of the street and thought about getting out. I didn’t, but good gravy, I wanted to. I wanted to scream at it, drag him out and yell at how low he made me feel, how he made me question my worth and every decision I made, and still make.  I gripped my steering wheel, my face getting hot. I stared, eventually driving away. How did I fucking get here…

Years ago, after a long term relationship ended, I went on a date. It was way too soon and I was not thinking with my head or heart, I was thinking with my hurt. I wanted to feel attractive, like there was hope for my future, and I needed that pain to go away.  I had met a man at my neighborhood pub, and we hit it off, him chatting me up about a book I was reading-some Russian Lit novel (yes, I am that girl that reads random books in bars). An hour quickly passed, and it was time for me to go home to my empty house. He asked if I wanted to go out another time, and I said yes. I walked home feeling happy about things.

We met up a few days later at a place I felt safe, a local brewery owned, staffed and visited by my friends-he would be on my territory. When he showed up in socks and Birkenstock’s, I let that go (I am open minded you know). The plan was to have a beer and chat, and go for dinner in the area. I’d drive my car, and he’d drive his. No pressure.  When he brought me to a vegan restaurant, I let that go too, as he noted, animals are just so cute. The night would go on and we would chat, the charm of the first night fading, but I was still interested in how this could go. We talked about our recent failed relationships, him lamenting “if she had just listened to me”….Hi, flashing red light. We opted to go to another brewery, again owned by my friends. I thought, “what could happen”, so I left my car in my ‘hood and took his, despite being against every rule I had. We played darts, we talked; we didn’t have a lot in common but it was still nice to be out. Towards the end of the night, I was done. I was ready to go home. I wasn’t feeling it, he had recent relationship issues and I was tired of looking at his socks and sandals. I asked to head out and go back to my car. “Sure, I gotta make one stop”.

To his house.

I offered to stay in the car, I didn’t know this guy well, but I changed my mind. I didn’t want to be rude despite every part of me knowing this was a bad idea. I knew in my head this was the wrong decision and I went in anyway.

I wanted to go home, but I was in his space. He showed me around his house, bragging about the remodeling he had done, his mountain climbing pictures, and all the crap he collected.  I was getting uncomfortable and mentioned it was time to go, but he expected more, since he took me out and I entered his home.

Suddenly, hands, arms, and a mouth were everywhere. A man that outweighed me by at least 100 lbs thought it would be ok to see how far he could go, and I said no, which he didn’t get. I remember looking at him, his sneer. His shirt came off, and I asked him what he was thinking. As he came closer I remember my heart sinking.

And not because of him, but because of me. I broke every rule I had. Everything I taught classes about, I ignored it all. I wasn’t just angry at him, I was angry at myself. I started to push him away, and he laughed and told that it was either put out, or figure out where I was and find a way to get home.

I froze.

So I bargained. If he just let me go home, I’d go out with him again. Words like, “please”, and “I’m sorry” came out of my mouth softly. I didn’t want to make it a bigger thing than it was. I wanted to go home.

When that didn’t work, I fought and I yelled. I pushed and hit him.

And when that wasn’t enough, I threatened to call the police.

That was finally enough for everything to stop and it was like a switch flipped. He got off me and put his shirt back on and looked for his keys. It took the potential for arrest when all I had wanted was to go home. He looked at me, shrugged and said “whatever”, eventually driving me back to my car, asking if I had any “bitches” he could hook up with. I looked at him and asked if he ate paint chips as a child (in retrospect, probably not a wise move).

As a woman you end up assessing situations in advance. You size up situations and men and think about how the situation could go. Sometimes you win, and sometimes you don’t and sadly this isn’t a one-off.

So, why am I angry, dear reader? I was in a shitty situation where someone took advantage when they shouldn’t have. I put myself in a situation that I shouldn’t have. I didn’t call the cops when I should have and that son of a bitch has likely done that to some other girl. I am left with a lot of should haves.

I am fierce, loud and I don’t take shit and it scares me that this could have happened to someone else who isn’t that way.  More than that, I am angry my friends have gone through this, and so much worse. I am mad that so few men are speaking up on behalf of women. I am angry that I carry this shame and embarrassment and that I feel like I need to apologize for my actions and justify every step I took.

And yet I do. Like millions of women the world over.

So, what do we do?

We stand united. We share our voice. We demand change in policy that holds rapists and harassers accountable with legitimate sentencing terms. And we don’t stop. We leverage our ally’s, so our voice is louder and we work to forgive ourselves, when that voice of self-blame says otherwise. And we breathe.

I love all of you who have gone or will go through this. To each of you, I am so, so sorry. I love you and if your voice is silenced, I will be there to make it loud.

Raina

I love a good cocktail, don’t you dear reader? A little special something as a nightcap, or a fun happy hour treat. There are so many excellent distilleries out there, and when you combine them with a little creativity, you can make a great cocktail in no time. With Feast Portland coming up, I wanted to combine two of my favorite things that will be making an appearance there-bourbon and tea-into a delicious drink.

Enter my cocktail, The Cloudlifter. It’s perfect for a chilly Seattle fall evening, but refreshing enough to handle the last days of summer as the weather changes from warm and sunny, to those late summer rains. It combines Steven Smith Teamaker’s bergamot tea with its citrusy, floral notes and adds Buffalo Trace bourbon‘s vanilla tones and perks it all up with a little kick of lemon. It’s sweet, smooth, and just right. Think iced tea, but for adults. It comes together quickly and you can make as much as you want, making it great for a quiet date night, a gathering with friends over barbecue, or my personal favorite: pairing with an epic toddler meltdown. You ready to put this together?

The Cloudlifter
3 ounces Buffalo Trace Bourbon, or your favorite bourbon
2 ounces Steven Smith Teamaker’s Lord Bergamot Tea Simple Syrup (directions below), chilled
Juice of one lemon
Splash of seltzer
Ice

For the simple syrup~
Make a strong batch of tea by boiling 4 cups of water. Turn off the heat and add two bags of Lord Bergamot tea, steeping for 5-7 minutes. This will the base for your simple syrup, which is easy to make: You combine equal parts sugar and liquid (in this case, your tea) and heat until combined. Pop it into the fridge to cool before using.

For the cocktail~
Combine all the ingredients over ice and enjoy!

Easy, right?  You won’t regret making this delicious drink. Now, go sit back in your garden and enjoy the last few days of summer!
Yours in booze,
Raina

Vegas has always held a special place in my heart.  My grandparents lived there for decades and would regale me with stories of their dates. They’d save up their money as best they could and every weekend go down to Sam’s Town and have a special night out.  They loved their date nights and continued that tradition for years, until my Grandmother’s cancer finally took those nights away. Their love of their little city lives on with each trip I take as I discover new haunts or revisit old favorites.

I’ve always gone to Vegas with friends but I hadn’t been for work, or even by myself, so when the opportunity to go for The Vegas Food Expo came up, I couldn’t say no!  To top it off I turned it into a long girls weekend with my best friend Jen.  She and I hadn’t been on a girls trip since before we both got pregnant…almost 5 years ago, so we were more than due. I had been hearing about tThe Vegas Food Expo. It was slated to be an exciting event, with small scale vendors sharing their lovingly curated foods to connect with businesses, distributors, and bloggers like myself. Amazing food and I was going to be able to learn about and support small businesses? I was in.

I booked my room at the SLS hotel where Jen and I would eventually eat one of the most amazing meals of our lives (check that post out here). The room was bright, with a light up bed and couch, and a mirror placed above the bed, which screamed fun and Las Vegas. It was over the top, and clearly not meant for a single traveler, but it was affordable and had great customer service, a fully stocked mini bar and multiple bars and restaurants downstairs.  While off the strip a little, it was quick to get around. The room was a little small, and I would have liked more separation than a sliding door to my bathroom, but it’s not like folks spend a lot of time in their rooms in a city like Vegas.

I flew out on a Wednesday, met up with my cousin to catch up and get settled. We grabbed a bite at Umami Burger to grab a beer in the sun. After dealing with Seattle’s solid rain for the past 6 months, I was ready to soak up as much of the sun as possible.  For the rest of the night I walked around the SLS to see what all was there, ending up at the Center Bar for a French 75 and some menu planning before a nice sashimi meal at Katsuya (also at the SLS), which didn’t disappoint. I started out with the truffle and lobster “Chawan-mushi” which was a creamy steamed custard, with a light truffle broth, with lobster on top. It was such a nice appetizer, and at $8, it wasn’t a bank breaker. I moved to the Omakase Sashimi which was beautifully presented-the scallop was tender, the blue fin tuna was buttery, and the Ikura was salty and fresh. At $55, it was a good amount of food,  but next time I will likely look at some of their Wagyu options, like the  Waygu Filet with Foie Gras, a beautiful option that the person seated next to me enjoyed. .Living in Seattle, it’s hard to beat our sushi. Wednesday night, I crashed out early, spending an hour or two watching cooking shows in a bed without a toddler-it was glorious!

The next day marked the start of the Vegas Food Expo and once I arrived I made my way through row after row of wonderful vendors, meeting confectioners, brewers, cider makers, and cured meat makers among so many other mom and pop shops. I loved the attention to detail and complete love each booth had for their product. I sat with the owner of Gluten Free Harvest, who talked about a real world need for small  batch, well tested GF projects – his son’s celiac disease diagnosis. I heard the heart behind so many brands, and why they ventured out to create their products. Most were born from identifying a need within their own lives and then seeing that others could benefit, they made the switch to getting their products into the hands of those who could enjoy them. I sipped wines from Barcelona, tasted honey from right outside Las Vegas, and nibbled on an amazing bone broth based beef stew that I found out I could get just up the street once I returned home!  It was lovely.

That night brought a Dune-level sandstorm which made for a hellish trip to an after party at the Lavo Casino Club at the Palazzo hotel and a 15 hour delay in Jen’s arrival.  Walking into the Lavo club, a fun bar and restaurant with multiple levels, I had great conversations, wonderful cocktails and delicious hand passed appetizers.  I would end up traipsing around with a few vendors I met at Lavo, having a wonderful second dinner of a beet salad with walnut, cara cara orange, ricotta salata and mint ($16) some of the most amazing garganelli with rabbit confit and hen of the woods mushrooms ($29) from B&B Ristorante (a Mario Batali and Joe Bastianich venture). I was even given a lesson on how to gamble-thank you Gordon!  Thinking that Jen was finally going to land, I headed back to my hotel…and waited…and waited some more.

Jen finally arrived…at 4 am, long after I had gone to bed after a series of failed flights, seat upgrades, and hotel check in issues, only to be woken up by me and a bottle of whiskey at noon. Poor gal was beat, but when in Vegas, you rally. We headed back to the Expo, meeting vendors and tasting some of the highlights from the previous day, mapping out what we were going to do before dinner.

That night, we would have the most amazing dinner at Bazaar Meat, then hit the strip for some people watching and adventure. We ended up at the Mirage in a failed attempt to find lions and dolphins at Jen’s request, and while I am still solidly convinced they didn’t exist, we did manage to find Starlight Tattoo. Whether it was the magic of Vegas, the full belly, or the few cocktails we had getting my first tattoo (and subsequent first freak out about said first tattoo) sounded like an amazing idea. We both created our designs-a bumblebee for me, and tiny mushrooms for Jen. All my fear had been for nothing-Tony Firmino, my amazing artist, walked me  through what would happen, what could hurt and how to relax (breathe) and 90 minutes later, just after midnight, my first tattoo was complete!  We ventured on with the intent of heading home when we found Toby Keith’s country bar. I happily drug Jen in to sing along to songs she sweetly tolerates for me, provided I picked up some of the tab. We would end up at one more club on the way home, dancing and chatting up strangers before hitting an wall of exhaustion and heading back to our quirky rooms for the night.

My last day was spent relaxing, and enjoying as much time as I could without any responsibility and lack of toddler feet in my back. We spent time at Umami Burger for last cocktails and snacks, before we hit the slots. I chose an Elvira themed slot, which ended up paying out $170 and with that we wrapped up our time with a hug and another shot before I hopped in a Lyft and headed to the airport.

I got home just after midnight, amazed at all the adventures I had, the memories I created and the food I had eaten and smiled happily at my sleeping baby girl who was so happy to snuggle me as she fell asleep in my arms.  I can’t think of a better way to have wrapped up that trip.

Here’s the recap in pictures!

What’s your favorite memory of Vegas?

Raina

There are few times in my food career where I have been so full and so happy that I didn’t know what to do. Dear reader, I have been looking back at my Vegas trip and one of the best meals of my life with a mix of awe and wondering if it all happened. While I’ll write more on the trip as a whole, I wanted to take time out to write about my experience eating Las Vegas at Bazaar Meats.

Walking down the graffiti art decorated halls into the cavernous dining room, you’re transported to another world. Knives and art appear mixed with beautiful cuts of meat while the smells of fire and meat tell you that you’re in the right place for a relaxing night of eating. You’re greeted warmly and quickly brought to your seat. There were multiple dining areas, with seating quite well spaced out, so you feel like you’re able to have your own conversations, but still people and food watch.

Jen and I knew early on we planned to go big for this meal, said goodbye to any sort of a budget, and knew we wanted to try as many things as possible. We quickly opted for two of the tasting menus, with a small wine pairing and the Chateaubriand. When we said we wanted to go big, we weren’t kidding. After all, this was our first girls trip in over 4 years and a combined three children between the two of us. We welcomed and relished in the amazing care and attention from the staff.

Course after course of beautiful food came out, each served with more flair and attention to presentation than the last. When your meal starts with cotton candy encased foie gras, moves immediately to jamon iberico de bellota with a spoonful of caviar topped with gold leaf, you know you’re in for a gastronomic adventure.  We had made our way through just over half of the 22 courses when then the Chateaubriand arrived. This gorgeous tenderloin was served with the most lovely truffle jus and decadent buttered potato puree (with extra butter, of course). The Chateaubriand was cooked perfectly and each tender bite melted lovingly in our mouths. Jen and I giggled with pure gluttonous glee with every bite until we just couldn’t eat any more. We nibbled and sipped our way through everything for over 2 hours.

What did we sip?  We started out with the Raventos i Blanc, Blanc de Nit Rose’, followed by a Pazo Senorans Albarino and ended with the Leviathan red blend (not my favorite wine).

What were the highlights? You really couldn’t go wrong with the tasting menu, especially as Chef Raymond’s team sent out a few extra dishes for us to try. The cotton candy encased foie gras was fun and a nice spin on a childhood treat; the steak tartar was buttery and flavorful; the Morcilla with uni was an unexpectedly perfect pairing-the richness of the blood sausage paired with the saltiness and creaminess of the uni made my heart happy. The suckling pig was presented whole and then sent back cut up, the skin crispy and golden giving gently to the warm, slightly fatty flesh.  This was not a meal for the weak!

What were the lows? I would have enjoyed a proper pre-planned wine pairing, especially as the Leviathan red wasn’t the best choice for some of the heartier items. The Delmonico, while wonderful and cheesy felt like overkill with the buttered potato puree.

What was the total?  $808 for the meal and wine, before tip. Would we do it again? Yes, yes, a million times yes.

A special thank you to Chef Raymond Pitts for all the wonderful dishes and the chat in the kitchen, as well as heartfelt thank you to the staff for the outstanding service, attention to detail, and answering all of my questions. Now, for the pictures! You can hover your mouse over each item to see what it is.

We wanted a special meal, and Bazaar Meat did not disappoint! For more information, you can check out their website or make reservations here.

Are you ready to go?  What is the best place you’ve eaten that I should visit next?
Yours in full belly happiness,
Raina

I don’t know about where you are dear reader, but here in Seattle flu season has been rough! You combine normal winter germs, an abundance of flu germs, and add in having a little one in preschool this year, you’ve got a recipe for disaster. Luckily, I also have a recipe to help combat germs, clear out the stuffiness and best part of it all? It’s tasty!  Meet one of my favorite winter remedies: Fire cider!

This little gem is savory, tangy, spicy and all around wonderful. It’s easy to make, stores for a year, and is the gift that keeps on giving. Added benefit? It’s AMAZING in Bloody Mary’s, so you can’t go wrong! Ready to get started?

Fire Cider
1 quart canning jar
1 large bulb garlic, peeled
1.5 large onions, peeled
1 large hand of ginger, rough outer layer removed
2 large jalapeno peppers, do not remove seeds or membrane
1 TB whole peppercorn
1 TB powdered turmeric
1/2 TB dried oregano
1/2 TB dried rosemary
Unfiltered Apple Cider Vinegar – I use Bragg’s.

When you’re shopping for ingredients, fresh and organic is always best and be sure to wash them prior to chopping. I opted to use dried turmeric, oregano and rosemary as I had a ton of it on hand, but you can use whatever you have.

Wash your canning jar and boil in hot water to sterilize it (10 minutes is fine) and let cool while you chop.

Chop all of your ingredients into small pieces so that you have a lot of surface area. The idea behind this is that you’re going to increase the nutrients that steep into your vinegar, making a stronger, more flavorful final product.

Add all of the chopped up ingredients to your cooled mason jar and top with vinegar. It should be well packed, but not too tightly; you want your ingredients to move around a little. Add a lid and sit back and wait.  You’ll let this bad boy steep for 2-4 weeks, shaking it gently every day or two. You can let it go longer, but I hate waiting.

Strain all of that goodness with cheese cloth over a sterilized bowl and wring out as much liquid as you’re able to get from the pulp. Pour the strained liquid into a sterilized pop-top bottle and you’re good to go! You can add 2-3 TB honey at this point to sweeten it up, or leave as is.

I drink 1-2 TB a day when I start to feel sick, or if I’ve been around sick people; and 4 TB (1 TB every few hours) a day when sick. As it’s spicy and tart, I don’t drink it on an empty stomach.

If adding to your Bloody Mary mix, use 1/2 to a full shot glass worth which will spice it up nicely.

Next batch, I think I’ll add nettles for its benefits on inflammation and allergies.

As always, with any change or addition to your diet, or using herbal remedies, consult a doctor before trying anything out.

What are your go to remedies to stave off germs?
Yours in herbal goodness,
Raina

If you’ve followed this blog long enough, you know one of my dreams is to have a big plot of land with a farm. That is still a work in progress, and will likely be for some time, so we have been making due with  city critters. We have chickens, which are amazing, but they are totally a gateway animal! After years of trying to find the right space and justify getting rabbits, my dream came true!  Enter: Hazel and Fresa (Strawberry). We adopted them from a local family whose daughter was too allergic to them to keep them. 

We were told that they were both boys and were just shy of a year old. We played with them daily, snuggling them and feeding them treats. Izzy would squeal with joy to see Hazel greet her each morning and afternoon in anticipation of treats. We were feeling amazing about our decision to have two bunnies. Forward to 10 days after we brought them home-I came out to find this:

and then this:

8 babies in all, in three spots. I was floored. While I was ready for two bunnies, I hadn’t planned on what to do with 10 total. I quickly posted to Facebook, looking for advice from friends who had been raising rabbits for years. In addition to laughter, I received good advice to let momma do her thing and to keep an eye on everyone. They would be fine and if not, I could either let nature run its’ course, or intervene and bring to a vet or find a donor momma (yes, that’s apparently a thing!).

I checked on them constantly the first few days, convinced that something would go wrong. After a week, I found that one had died, and we would eventually lose two more. The rest grew quickly, one more than the other, and one runt continued to thrive (we have hand fed him to help him keep up with the siblings). They quickly left their nest, venturing to the rest of their hutch, nibbling on the greens we give, or chewing on the timothy hay we lay daily, or jumping over to mom for a quick nurse. As you’ll see, one of these guys clearly had nursing down and was a big boy!

We are smitten with them in all their furry cuteness. At some point, we’ll raise rabbits for meat, but this group won’t be for that. We’ll adopt out the babies, and then see how things go in the future. For now, Izzy and I are enjoying watching them grow and play.

People have asked what is next. For now, these guys and our chickens are all we have time, space and energy for; plus all these guys love to eat my crops, so I think I am full up on critters for now.

What would you love to have on your farm, or yard?

Yours in fuzzy cuteness,
Raina