33 by 33

This afternoon as I was uploading photos, the first shot to come up was this beauty:

I wasn't exactly sure what it was until I remembered the attempt to capture my big rainbow from last week's outing.  It's probably a good thing photos don't come equipped with other senses, because what you don't experience from this shot are the expletives erupting from my mouth.  I swore then I pouted.  Stupid fish.

Each year the Great Samoan Hunter and I write a list of things to do before our birthday the next year.  This year we each have 33 things we would like to do before we're 33.  Our 33 before 33.  Last year, he checked the most monumental off of his list -- killing an elk with his bow.  I think six pack abs were on both of our lists, which both went unfulfilled, sadly. 

One thing that has been on my list each year is to explore the Southeastern corner of Yellowstone National Park.  It's backcountry access only, waterfalls and interesting water features abound, and there's fish to be had (in addition apparently to the Park's largest population of bears).  

I am not sure how many people know where exactly they were conceived.  As much as I don't enjoy the thought of my parents procreating, I do love the fact that my entrance into the world was in Yellowstone.  It's one of my favorite places on Earth, and despite the throngs of Japanese tourists each clutching their cameras worth more than my car, I still get a thrill looking at the hot pots and colored pools.  This trip will offer a whole new aspect of the park, one that will most certainly lack the tourists and crowded parking lots.  I can't wait to report back on what we see. 

I have spent most of today prepping for our two night's camping trip.  We'll be camping just outside the roadless entrance with the convenience of bear-proof food storage receptacles at each site.  Since we won't have to pack in/out, our Yeti cooler is full, and I am ready for some fireside meals.  Translation, I am going to eat smores until I am sick. 

The following salad is a summer staple. Forgive me if I have posted it before.  It is worth duplicating, I promise.  Spaghetti squash is by far my favorite squash.  It transforms from a plain, unsuspecting oblong to lovely, little squash tendrils.  This salad keeps great in the fridge and makes a fantastic side dish to anything grilled.  Try it. You will like it.

I am off to pack my bear spray and my marshmallows.  xoH

Cut your squash in half, pull out all of the seeds, drizzle with olive oil and season with salt and pepper.

Roast in a 350 degree oven for about an hour.

Gently pull back the threads.

Shred until you have individual tendrils.

Mix together with about 1 cup halved cherry tomatoes, 1/2 cup feta cheese, one small minced garlic clove, and 1/2 cup chopped, fresh basil.

Toss all together with a little extra olive oil and salt and pepper to taste.

I also BAKED today.  Rhubarb, blueberry, peach cake for our camp breakfasts.  I will post the recipe when I get back.  I 'quality control' tested a bite while they were still hot, and they are delicious!

Here are my goods prepped and ready for the cooler:

curried mango chicken salad, squash salad and tin foil dinner fixings.  

H and G. Hello and goodbye.

As I mentioned last week, today is my Monday.  I am lucky that I don't have to be in until this afternoon -- I can linger in my weekend bliss a bit longer.  However, I feel a sort of obligation to be production in these last few hours before the long week starts again.  Rather than check items off my chore list, I have chosen to stay in my jammies, eat cottage cheese and enjoy my morning at Hail's Kitchen.

Yesterday the Great Samoan Hunter and I had a shared day off.  These days have been rare lately -- we're literally like ships passing in the night. He is off to work by 6:30, in bed by 10:00.  I am usually home around 10:30 to find him snuggled into bed.  Remember this saying from Sleepless in Seattle? H and G.  Hello and goodbye.  So is our schedule from May - October.  

He had a meeting with a vendor in Jackson, and I jumped at the opportunity to eat at a restaurant other than my own!  We ate an early sushi lunch -- I am counting down the days when sweet, tender sashimi will pass these lips -- tempura shrimp and veggie rolls do a pretty good job of satiating the craving, and I strolled the streets of Jackson like a tourist.  

As soon as the meeting was over, we hightailed it back to our sleepy side of the mountains.  This country mouse can't handle the city -- albeit Jackson.  Funny how quickly one becomes accustomed to no street lights.

We then jumped in the boat for an afternoon float, and the only good fish we (I proudly) landed, managed to evade my camera.  Fish photos are not my thing.  I get stage fright and they leap out of my hands before the shutter can catch them. I pulled a chicken out of the freezer, but alas, it was still frozen when we came home.  One can never have too many frozen, Papa Murphy's pizzas on hand. I also failed to make any rhubarb treats.  Baking typically requires butter, and am I out of butter.  The challenges of country living!

Here I am with no adventure or food photos.  However, I have been having great fun looking through my photo archives.  This computer has been in storage since October and hold loads of wonderful memories.  Writing about gardening this week made me long for our days on the 'farm.' It was a such a fun respite, despite the back-breaking work it required.  I miss playing in the dirt and dreaming of the day when I can have my own little farmer's market stand.  

If only I could win the lottery, I would be the world's best homesteader.  You know the adage, the old man goes to church every day and prays in front of the statue of a saint.  "Please, please help me win the lottery."  Eventually, the saint comes to life and tells the man, "My son, please, please buy a ticket." I buy my ticket weekly.

Have a grand weekend all!  Go buy a lottery ticket for good measure. 

Second year asparagus. 

Not sure which is sexier, the irrigation boots or the garlic.  

Lovely Belle.

Lovely Heather.

One can never have too many bottle openers.

This next progression made me laugh out loud.  Funny dogs.  No plants were harmed in this mayhem.

Dinner before 10:00 p.m.

This is the first summer in several that I have planted a garden.  I like to think I have a green thumb, in fact, gardening is my genes.  Both of my great grandfathers were spectacular gardeners.  The Judge and my mom attempted their hand at 'farming' with our little acreage that proved to be such a labor of love it exhausted all of us. We all miss the farm.  Especially the Judge and his tractor.

One of my first projects after moving into our new house was planting a small, container garden.  Unfortunately, our growing season here is about two months.  The snow starts falling around October and melts about March, but then intermittently spits until May.  I optimistically waited until mid-June to plant, assuring myself we were beyond any late-season frosts.

One particularly chilly night, I contemplated covering my little friends in the backyard.  Damn intuition. I woke up the next morning to my windshield covered in frost, as well as my tender tomato, pepper, squash, watermelon and cucumber plants.  I could have cried.

For then next week or so, I ignored the pots in the backyard.  I couldn't stand to look at those sad, withered plants.  Feeling guilty, I started watering them again, trimmed back their frozen bits, talked sweet nothings to them.  Amazingly, they have started to sprout life.  They have even managed to produce!  I picked my first tomato and peas grown from my own efforts in years.

My poor little plants look a little wonky now, their tops lobbed off, the remnants of the freeze still lingering on a few leaves.  But hey, we're all a little wonky with our own freezer-burns.  I know I sure am -- and I am bearing fruit!  Sorry, couldn't help the analogy.

I have two days away from the Lodge, which makes me a little giddy.  I taught yoga this morning to my little group of local ladies, I have some domestic duties to tend to, and some rhubarb to bake. I may even take a nap.  I told you I was giddy.

There's still hope!

Maybe not so much for this guy.

Last night I actually made it home before the sun set.  It was so strange to be home at a reasonable hour that I didn't quite know what to do with myself.  What do most people do at night?  Eat dinner before 10:00.  The Great Samoan Hunter was equally as shocked when he came home to a prepared meal other than a bowl of cereal.

This is not a super original meal. In fact, it's probably a staple in your home.  However, I did get creative with my tortillas. I was hankering for a crispy shell.  My hankerings these days are really difficult to dispel.  I have nearly driven to town several times for a bean and cheese burrito from Fiesta Ole.  I. LOVE. THEM.  I was hungry for crispy shells and all I had on hand were soft wheat tortillas.   Here was my solution:

Baked them draped over the oven rack for about 10 minutes at 350 degrees. 

They came out looking like these perfect, hard taco shells!

Sauteed yellow onion, garlic and ground beef with a can of tomatoes,

cumin, oregano, chili powder and red pepper flakes.

Lovely little radishes.

I even had time to make some homemade pico. It really is wonderfully unique and refreshing salsa with 

the addition of diced cucumber and avocado.  You can find the recipe here.

Hates don't hate. This is the most spectacular topping for corn on the cob.  

Mix about 2 parts plain yogurt with 1 part crumbled feta.  Smear over your steaming hot corn.

Delicious! Makes a great topping for tacos, too.

Light, healthy, fresh and homemade!  I could get used to dinner before 10:00.

A number of you have asked (begged, pleaded, lovingly hounded) me for a photo of Baby M's progression in my belly.  Here she is 25 weeks, 6 days in all of her (my) glory.  

xo H and Baby M

Sweating bullets

One of the most time-consuming and gratifying aspects of blogging is photography.  Anyone who has eaten with me (while I am blogging) is familiar with the constant presence of my camera lens nosing around in his or her meal.  The last several months my camera has been filled with images other than those captured in my kitchen, which is slightly more entertaining than the various stages of pork schnitzel.   

This morning I was treated to a montage of the past year -- wedding photos, fishing trips, numerous Tuli photos, and the best, honeymoon photos.  We had to suspend our Samoan honeymoon due to the  "accident."  Amazingly, my wounds closed just in time for the trip and not a soul mentioned the gnarly scar peaking out from my teensy bikini (purchased pre-bullet wound).  Samoans are glorious people.

My doctor was unsure whether the metal scattered through my leg and rump would set off the metal detector at the airport.  As the Great Samoan Hunter and I stood in line next to business men and families in the security line, I sweat bullets (I can say that with truth now) for fear that my arse would start beeping.  Imagine explaining that to the TSA agent?  Well, sir . . .  

I preemptively wore my most modest, full coverage big girl panties in the event that I had to pull my drawers down to show the proof.  Thankfully, no alarms beeped, and I scooted right through sans a second glance.  

I promise to post more photos of our ten days in paradise, but until then, this was the view from our fale (beach bungalow):

As the world woke up today and collectively said "TGIF!," I am preparing for my Monday. Yesterday I spent most of my day in town running errands and the mandatory grocery trip. We live forty-five minutes from the nearest grocery store so I have become a master at pantry meals.  I keep a constant stock of canned beans, various shapes and sizes of pastas, and frozen veggies on hand for the inevitable empty fridge.  The following dish was one such meal.  I was down to my last wrinkled tomato.  

This meatless meal came together in the time it took the water to boil.  I served this easy dish with a healthy side of cottage cheese -- my pre-lactose-sensitive belly has transformed into a dairy-eating machine.  This baby loves her some dairy.  You could easily manipulate this to suit your family's tastes, add meat, add other veggies, change the pasta shape.  The leftovers are great the next morning too scrambled in eggs.  That may be a strange pregnancy thing though.  Happy Friday (or Monday) all! 

Low sodium beans.  Swelling is such a fabulous pregnancy side effect.

Saute one sliced shallot and garlic clove, chili flakes as well as a handful of halved tomatoes in olive oil.

Add the drained and rinsed beans (any type will work).

Reserve about 1/2 cup of the pasta water and toss everything together.

My poor garden got nuked by a late freeze. It is slowly coming back.  

I threw in some chopped parsley and basil.

Still a little rusty on the photos.  Tasted great though!

Quick and easy pasta with beans

2 can beans (any type), drained and rinsed

1 box small, bite-sized pasta

1 large shallot, sliced

1 garlic clove, minced

handful cherry tomatoes, sliced in half

1 tsp red chili flakes (more or less)

1 tsp olive oil

salt and pepper to taste

fresh herbs and parmesan cheese for garnish

Cook pasta according to directions. Meanwhile, heat olive oil over medium heat.  Saute shallot, garlic and chili flakes until fragrant.  Add the tomatoes to the pan and smoosh them a bit to release their juices. Save about a 1/2 cup of the pasta cooking liquid.  Add the drain beans and pasta to the pan along with the pasta water.  Saute to combine.  Serve with parmesan cheese and herbs, as well as a sprinkle of salt and pepper.  Enjoy!

Keep reading . . . your eyes are not playing tricks on you

I know what you are thinking.  Where have you been Hail's Kitchen?  I've done this before -- disappeared and then returned stronger, sassier, and much better behind the camera.  I plan to do the same this time. Last time I faded into the dark and empty internet vastness I couldn't afford satellite internet service.

This time around things were a bit more complicated:

1.  You can call me Master Hailey:

2.  I got a new job.  This job resembles running a dairy.  It never sleeps.  As a result, my kitchen is like a lot of the friends and family I haven't seen since I began managing the F and B operations at the Lodge -- missed terribly.

3. I got married.  Our four month engagement didn't allow for much free time, especially considering the 60 hours a week I spend at work. I am officially Mrs. Great Samoan Hunter. Nice ring, eh?

4. I got shot.  By my husband of two weeks.  In the ass.  Yes, you read that correctly.  Again, no tricks on the eyes. Amazingly, I walked out of the hospital that night.  I have quite the scar and story to share with our grandkids someday.  The Great Samoan Hunter (oh the irony) will have the rest of our lives to make up for that one.

5. We moved. Twice.  In and out of the river mansion.  We're nearly settled into our new abode. A messy garage is mark of genius, right?

6.  Last but certainly not least, I got pregnant.  Baby Great Samoan Hunter will be making her arrival somewhere near the end of October.  Quite serendipitously she will join us just as our season wraps up.  Beyond words how thrilled we are (the Judge has been shopping for swing sets since February).

It's been an eventful year.  Sadly, I also lost one of my biggest fans and most loyal readers in May to the blasted and most hated c-word.  I like to think that when Grandma Joyce is not keeping a loving and watchful eye on us here on Earth, she's eating ice cream and cracking jokes with God.  I sure miss her laugh.

I do have a fantastic new kitchen that has wonderful light and plenty of counter space to pose food photos.  I also have a ravenous appetite and a renewed zest for writing.  Must be the hormones.

If you're reading this now, you know the potential that is to come from Hail's Kitchen.  Stronger, sassier, an extra hole in my butt, a baby in belly, and an MA behind my name.  Yes Internet, Hail's Kitchen is back. xoH