New Year

Carrots for the New Year?

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Pam’s Pictorama Post: This odd little postcard was among the ones I picked up at the big sale earlier in the fall. I don’t know why but in my mind I identified these as turnips but they do indeed seem to be carrots.

In a house full of cats (quite literally at the moment) I am here to say I rarely find one playing with a carrot or two, but here are these two kittens, be-ribboned, showing real interest in two. A while ago there was an online meme of cats being afraid of bananas (incidentally, the New York cats do not seem to be performing to type on that) and the internet tells me it is both the smell and because they recognize the shape as a snake and instinct kicks in. I have always doubted that the New York duo have much in the way of survival instinct and perhaps this goes to prove it. I gather it applies to cucumbers too and I could test the Jersey Five – I suspect Peaches will attack it with vigor. Her instincts seem perfectly intact.

Meanwhile, the internet is a bit vague on the point of carrots as a symbol of the New Year (turnips actually fare a bit better) on that score. In other cultures (Jewish New Year, Chinese) carrots seem to be a symbol but not really for January 1. However, this was indeed mailed on December 31, 1906 so no question of the intention there. There are allusions to slices of carrots looking like coins and bringing good fortune. l assume these tabby kittens know something we do not. It’s a bit hard to understand what the creator of the card was thinking – let’s do kittens and carrots he said to himself.

The kits have a carrot each, large and small, as well as bows and bells. The one seems to be tackling the large one. The other one, more timid, just looks on. Below them A Happy New Year. The company that produced the card appears to be J.P. Belle, just identified as Belle in the lower right corner here. Founded in Paddington in 1881 it produced cards until 1939. The official name of the company was J.P. Beagles.

This postcard was addressed to: Madam Donshea, 22 East 21st St. New York City. It was mailed from Jersey City at 3:30 on December 31, just under the wire I would say.

It has me contemplating what I might cook up today and I have promised a friend this recipe so I thought I would share it with you as well. It is a good vegetarian base I use as a jumping off point for all kinds of soups to use up whatever is in the house at the moment. I do it by instinct now so I hope I have given complete instructions. Feel free to ask questions! Happy and healthy New Year to you all!

A photo of the soup taken a while back but you get the idea. this version may have had spinach in it.

Miso Soup Recipe:

Ingredients:

  • 1 heaping tablespoon miso paste (dissolve in a small bowl of water
  • 2 carrots, sliced thin
  • 3 cloves of garlic minced
  • 1 tablespoon gingerroot, chopped
  • Salt, pepper, bay (2 leaves), dried basil and oregano to taste. (I like Maresh red pepper which is a mild red pepper, but you can use black pepper.)
  • half a large red onion
  • 2 containers of vegetable stock
  • 1 container extra firm tofu (shrimp could be substituted)
  • Small bowl dried mushrooms (soaked in water – reserve the water for the broth)
  • Green beans (frozen or fresh) trimmed to bite sized
  • Fresh mushrooms, chopped, optional.
  • Half a cup wine or sherry to deglaze
  • 3 chopped scallions
  • Italian flatleaf parsley
  • Frozen dumplings or pantry gnocchi as desired
  • Also optional: sesame oil, rice wine vinegar, mirin and balsamic vinegar. If you want this spicy jalapeno peppers can also be added.

Instructions:

Start the miso softening in water, mushrooms in a separate bowl.
Chop the onion, carrots, green beans, gingerroot and garlic and soften in olive oil. (If you are using shrimp add them after.) Add salt and pepper. Chop the parsley and set aside. Cut the tofu in bite size pieces and put aside.
Deglaze the pan with the wine or sherry. Add the dried mushrooms and liquid and then the broth and then the tofu. Bring to a boil and add the parsley, scallions and tofu.
Season to taste and add the optional seasoning now. Keep at a boil for a few minutes and then simmer and continue to adjust seasoning – I almost always need salt at this stage.
If using dumplings add them at the end, if frozen when the soup is at a boil, but just before serving or they will fall apart.
This essential base is a good vegetarian option for a number of soups – sometimes I add beans instead of tofu, or shrimp. Any number of vegetables can be added, corn is a favorite, diced tomato and sometimes I use creamed corn to thicken the soup as well – but potatoes can be used to thicken it too.

January

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Pam’s Pictorama Post: This past week I went on a particularly long run in New Jersey, more than four miles. The weather was an agreeable 35 degrees and my morning of meetings started late enough that despite being a bit cold I took the opportunity to explore a bit.

Discovered the local police station nearby recently.

When I first started running there I was afraid of getting lost as I didn’t know the area and there are a lot of dead end streets and cul de sacs to get lost in. It took awhile for me to get the lay of the land and understand where my mom’s house is in relation to a few large roads that will always put me back on course eventually, making it almost impossible to actually get lost I now know. (I have written about running in New Jersey before and one of those posts is here. One of my early posts about teaching myself to run can be found here.)

Wooded area where I run. Looks more wild than it is – there are the backs of houses within sight.

I have written a bit about this area which exists in my mind these days as a sort of ideal small town with more ball fields and playgrounds than I can count. Communal basketball hoops adorn many of the dead end streets and it is easy to imagine a spring and summer rife with kids playing there. It has become my other reality or parallel universe now that a spend more time with my mom at her house.

There is a charming middle school at the end of my mother’s block, Knollwood it is called, and each morning when I run there I see kids in various states of readiness migrating toward it to start their day. They come on bikes or walk, alone or a few together, sometimes running or pedaling hard as it gets later. Cars and buses are dropping them off on the other side, but that isn’t usually what I see from the side of the school I approach.

The houses here range from new build large and obviously affluent, to bungalow and Cape Cod small, like my mom’s. They indicate a fair amount of disparity in wealth I think as I run by them, but somehow they manage to knit together a community, homes almost universally cheerfully neat and tidy looking.

If I head further in one direction I know that beyond the woods where I start these runs that the homes will grow larger and further apart in the town where I grew up. As I go in the other direction the homes get smaller and closer together and older. This area forms a literal meeting point of three towns and each has a different flavor.

The suburban street near mom.

As I survey my surroundings (to an unlikely soundtrack of Billie Holiday which I am stuck on for no identifiable reason), I ponder how mindfulness can be uncomfortable and how sometimes forcing yourself to be in the moment is so much harder and more painful than escaping it. For me and with my personal history January is the most terrible of months, stinking with the memory of illness and death. Accepting that and not trying to escape it is hard. Despite a determined brand of personal optimism, I tend to skirt the beginning of each year warily, more just getting through it than embracing it as a new beginning.

This year has its own challenges and this week packed a wallop of January-ness my way along with some sodden snowy rain. The anniversary of my sister’s death, two more resignations at work, spending time (mostly reliving the past) with my mom who is not well – it has been a rocky road and I will be glad when the 31st passes, hopefully gently, into February. A tsunami of these issues clamor for attention in my brain and only the gentle repetitious pounding of my sneaker clad feet can help me unsnarl these thorny thoughts.

Flowers in memory of my sister Loren, brought by a friend earlier this week.

As I make my way over, up and through this neighborhood I think about it. The word liminal keeps looming in my mind so I examine it. Liminal, the space between things, the moment on a threshold. We all are existing in that liminal space right now as we try to figure out what the world is going to look like, needing to let go of what was and embrace this unknown next thing. That space is a bit of a respite from the drive forward, but you know you are going to have to take the plunge so there is little comfort in that perch, like standing above icy water before diving in. By its nature it is an uncomfortable place to be.

I think I understand the desire to leave for a new job and to assign all that was bad about the past two years to what employed your hours during that time. I can see that a new job might be a fresh new page to draw on and a way to reinvent yourself and push into the new world. So I try not to resent the further dwindling of my work team and the demands it will make on me and the remaining folks, but I admit it is hard.

One of the endless playing fields I run through on my NJ mornings.

My own style however is to dig my heels in and have a real look at myself, marshal my reserves, retrench. It is only by facing what is hard that we can actually resolve it. One of my expressions is the only way through is through – a self-evident but annoying truth. I see signs of reluctance in myself that I need to square off, face and resolve. I remind myself that there is a steeliness I can call on when needed and it is called for now. I use it and add on that extra mile.