Showing posts with label writing. Show all posts
Showing posts with label writing. Show all posts

Thursday, January 15, 2015

Procrastination pie: A lesson in avoiding the really hard work

Little Bird. My most recently completed painting, from September 2014.
I got angry at my son yesterday.

He was supposed to be practicing piano, but he was crying and upset because the piece was difficult. This was not the first time he has experienced this level of frustration with working through something hard. We've tried to coach him through the difficulty, explaining that when something is hard, you just have to work harder. Hardness is not a reflection on intelligence or value; it simply means that something is difficult and requires more work.

I tried going that route first. I told him to take a deep breath and try to slowly work through the lines note by note. Calmly, persistently. He responded with more frustration and tears. I tried again. And then I'm ashamed to say I totally lost it. I yelled. I told him he needed to pull himself together and get over being so emotional about struggling. It went on from there. It wasn't pretty, and I didn't feel good about it afterward.

Thinking about the incident while doing dishes later, I recognized my hypocrisy. I had spent much of an unexpected snow day avoiding my own hard things. Instead of painting or writing or even working on a project for a client, I cooked and cleaned and ran 4 miles and folded laundry, frittering away precious time on easy things. Not easy in terms of the amount of work required, I was exhausted when the day was over, but easy in terms of emotional, mental, and creative effort. Like my son, I constantly struggle with and get anxious about doing certain kinds of work; the difference is that I am a lot better at hiding it from myself and others by doing prodigious amounts of other stuff.

I try to tell myself that being creative is not supposed to be that hard, that I shouldn't get frustrated, that I should take a breath and slowly and persistently push through the difficulty, and perhaps that I should even relax and enjoy it, but the truth is every time I start putting paint to canvas or trying to write a story is a moment of stress, anxiety, and fear. And even when it goes well (which is actually pretty frequent), the terror returns and remains because the next addition of color, the next creative choice could screw it all to hell. I tell myself I shouldn't care. It should be about the process, not the product, but at heart I don't believe that. I tell myself that if I really loved to paint as much as I think I do, it should be easy to get up and do it. But it's not. Just because you love something doesn't make it easy. So painting starts sit for months and sometimes years before I finish them because mustering the courage to push them through the next step is so hard and requires so much emotional energy. (For example, I started Little Bird, the painting at the beginning of this post, five or six years ago and only finally got around to finishing it last September.)

Starting this year, I plan to do better. (I also plan to be more understanding toward my boy.) I've figured out ways to trick myself into running even when it's cold or hot as hell, I'm sore and tired, and I really don't feel like it. Surely I can trick myself into painting and writing more?

In the meantime, while I was avoiding the hard work, I made this shepherd's pie, which turned out to be a huge hit. Inspired by my friend Jeff, who made a shepherd's pie using cauliflower mash instead of mashed potatoes a few weeks ago, I decided to try replacing some of the mashed potatoes with cauliflower. The cauliflower adds a nice, light sweetness to the mash, but is a bit more watery than potatoes are. I may try replacing the potatoes with cauliflower altogether sometime soon, but if/when I do, I will probably need at least two heads of cauliflower and less half and half. I also used a combination of ground beef and loose pork sausage, but you can use any combination you like. And even though I made this meal in part to avoid work, don't be fooled: It's a somewhat time- and labor-intensive recipe, so don't plan to make it on a weeknight. (Unless you have a snow day.)


Shepherd's pie, ingredients

  • 1 large head cauliflower, broken into florets
  • 6 medium yellow potatoes (use any potatoes you like; I just like yellows better)
  • 1/4 cup half and half
  • 1 Tbsp butter
  • 2 Tbsp olive oil
  • 1 lb ground beef
  • 1 lb loose pork sausage
  • 1 large onion, chopped
  • 2-3 cloves garlic, crushed
  • 1 14 oz. can of diced tomatoes, fire roasted is nice but not necessary
  • 2 Tbsp tomato paste
  • 2 cups water
  • 1/4 cup ketchup
  • 1 tsp Dijon mustard
  • smoked paprika, salt, and pepper to taste
  • bread crumbs (optional)

Instructions

  1. Peel the potatoes and boil them in salted water until tender, about 30 minutes.
  2. Steam the cauliflower until tender, about 15-20 minutes depending on your steamer (test the cauliflower with a fork).
  3. Using a ricer (which will make your life easier, I promise), rice the cauliflower and the potatoes into a bowl. Add the half and half and butter and some salt and pepper and stir together until you have a nice even(ish) mash. Taste the mash to make sure you've added enough salt and pepper. Set the mashed potato-cauliflower mixture aside.
  4. In a large saute pan, heat the olive oil. Toss in a sliver of onion to test the heat. When it sizzles, add the rest of the onion and cook it for about two minutes. Then add the sausage and the ground beef. 
  5. Cook the meat and onions until the meat is no longer pink. If the meat has some brown bits, bonus! Drain most of the fat from the pan. 
  6. Add the garlic to the pan and let it cook for about a minute (do NOT let it burn). 
  7. Add the tomatoes, water, tomato paste, ketchup, mustard, and perhaps a teaspoon of salt and half a teaspoon of pepper and smoked paprika to the meat in the pan. Stir everything together. Over medium-high heat, let the mixture cook down to a loose mass (the pan should contain some liquid, but the mixture should not be watery). Taste the mixture and add salt and pepper until you like it.
  8. Next, assemble the pie. Pour the meat mixture into a large, oven-safe baking dish (mine is about 13 in. by 9 in.). Shake the dish gently to make sure the meat is somewhat evenly distributed. Then place big spoonfuls of the potato-cauliflower mash over the meat mixture and using the back of a spoon spread it out somewhat evenly. (It's a "rustic" dish; it doesn't have to look perfect.) If you want, spread some bread crumbs or Panko over top of the mashed potatoes. (At this point, you can set aside the pie for a few days and bake it another day.)
  9. Bake the pie for 50-55 minutes in a 450-degree (F) oven. Eat. Enjoy. Try to do the hard things.      

Wednesday, April 25, 2012

Spring pasta with salmon and sugar snap peas--and a look back on an independent year


A year ago last week was my last day as a wage slave. My plan had been to go out on my own and start a food blog and share my passion for seasonal and local food; the future was grand, rosy, exciting. After years of feeling stuck in jobs that didn't seem to appreciate all that I had to offer and were leaving all my brilliance and skills on the table, I was going to get out on my own and put all that smart and talented out there. (And I was going to get my house in order, get in shape, and about a dozen other things.)  

Well, I started a freelance career as an editor, proofreader, and writer, and I started a food blog. I quit some bad habits. I ran a lot. Some portions of my house got clean--for a while. But only now do I begin to understand how differently I need to think about my work, to plan my life, to organize my time. Only now do I realize several hundred thousand food bloggers are out there, sharing their passion, and doing it with way prettier pictures and often with far more graceful prose. Only now do I realize that, yeah, I am smart and talented, but a lot of people are smart and talented, and many are way more trained and knowledgeable than I am. Ouch.

So those were some lessons: I wasn't nearly as good and smart as I thought. I wasn't nearly as passionate about food as I thought. Finding clients wasn't so easy, especially after the funding for my first big one dried up. There are always going to be people who are more talented, more committed, less diffused over multiple priorities. Less confused really. A heck of a lot more focused and driven.  

As you can imagine, that hurt. Especially the part about not being as good and smart as I thought I was. Yeah, that stung.

But it was an honest lesson, a real lesson. I wouldn't say I am humbler now, but I am gaining some clarity and perspective. I am clearing away some imposed rules, some imposed ways of thinking, some imposed parameters for beauty. And that's good, because I get to try and start fresh, to see with new eyes, to start to remember the first look and feel and smell of creativity, what that was like, so many years ago when the block of clay first hit the table.

And all I really meant to do tonight was share a recipe for pasta with sugar snap peas and salmon, and here I am, off on this tangent. Oh well. Here's how to make the pasta. It's really good: light, fresh, pretty in green and pink, with a nice crisp crunch from the peas--everything you'd ever want in a spring pasta. So get thee to the farmer's market and find some sweet crunchy sugar snaps!  

Pasta with salmon and sugar snap peas
  • 12 oz. salmon fillets (whatever's in season, or wildcaught frozen and defrosted)
  • 1 lb pasta (I used rombi in this recipe)
  • 2 Tbsp unsalted butter
  • 1 Tbsp finely chopped shallots
  • 3 spring onions, green tops removed, sliced thinly
  • 2 cups sugar snap peas, ends and strings removed
  • juice from a half lemon
  • 1 cup heavy cream
  • 1/2 tsp Dijon mustard
  • salt, pepper, dried thyme
  1. Cook the pasta according to package instructions. (Start boiling the pasta about the same time you start the fish so they finish at the same time.)
  2. Rinse the salmon fillets in cold water, dry them with paper towels, and salt and pepper them. Prepare your produce (shallots, spring onions, and sugar snap peas).
  3. Melt the butter over medium heat in a large deep pan.
  4. When the butter bubbles and browns slightly, place the salmon fillets in the pan. Sprinkle the lemon juice all over the fillets. Let them cook for 1-2 minutes, and turn them over to cook for another minute on the other side. Take them out of the pan, put them on a plate tented with foil (keeps them warm). 
  5. Add the shallots and the spring onions to the pan, cook until they soften (about 2 minutes). 
  6. Add the sugar snap peas to the pan, let them cook for 2 minutes. 
  7. Add the heavy cream and the Dijon mustard to the pan. Let the sauce cook until it thickens (about 2 minutes). Season with salt, pepper, and thyme to taste. 
  8. Add the cooked pasta to the sauce in the pan and mix it all together. Turn off the heat. 
  9. Removing the skin, break the salmon into flaky pieces and mix them into the pasta.
  10. Eat! Enjoy! Even my five-year old liked this: