Lessons Learned and the Usual Tradeoffs

Mmm, Tart

Last night just as the sun was going down, we noticed that there was a lot of smoke off to our southeast, in front of the mountains.  The U.S. Forest Service is doing a prescribed burn of 1,000 acres in the Carson National Forest, a few miles northeast of Truchas.  The purpose of the fire is to reduce the risk of uncontrolled wildfire and to improve forest habitat.  

Smoke obscuring the mountains

This is my first experience with a prescribed burn.  After dark, because of the nearly full Harvest Moon, it was bright enough to still see some of the nearest mountains and to  see that the further-off mountains were shield from sight by smoke.  The smoke was actually pretty intense; you could smell it inside the house.  This morning's sunrise was a peculiar purple-red color from the remaining smoke, higher up in the atmosphere. 

Last night, Halloween, was the first one in twenty years where I haven't had my son in the house to share the holiday with.  He's in California now attending college.  It was also the first one without bags and bags of candy.  Usually I've bought it with the supposed intention of distributing to trick-or-treaters, but with the co-intention of eating it myself (with my son).  This year, there was absolutely no chance there'd be trick or treaters, given that we live on a crazy run-down road, two miles from the main road, and up behind a locked gate.  No candy in the house.

Last night and the night before I've had major chocolate cravings.  It's interesting living out here where you can't just run out to the local grocery or convenience store at any hour of the night to get whatever you have a craving for.  It has definitely been good for me to move past my cravings for near immediate gratification, whether it be for pizza, or chips, or chocolate.  I'm much less likely to buy and consume these things if I have to plan ahead by purchasing them during one of our weekly grocery shopping trips.

Nevertheless, there was chocolate in the house.  Years and years ago I bought my then-husband a pastry cookbook and every so often he'd make something delicious.  I've always wanted to be able to make various kinds of pastries myself and I've been craving chocolate ganache and lemon cream, so I bought my own pastry cookbook and determined that I would learn how to make my own pastry.  During our last trip into town for the grocery store, I bought some dark cooking chocolate.  Yesterday I made my first sweet tart pie dough crust, and this morning, after drinking my first cup of coffee, I made chocolate ganache and added a little coffee, then poured the mixture into the tart shell.  While I drank my second cup of coffee, the ganache mixture had a chance to solidify in the refrigerator.  I whipped up some heavy cream, and then we had deep, dark, chocolate tart, topped with whipped cream (to go along with my third cup of coffee) for breakfast.

Mmm, chocolate tart.

I've not very good at following recipes exactly (this may be something I'll have to overcome if I want to become a good pastry maker), and I was missing some of the necessary kitchen tools (a thermometer to check the temperature of the ganache mixture and a flour sifter).  I'm also cooking at a high elevation, which changes how cooking works slightly (for example, it takes forever to cook pasta!), so this will be a learning experience in this respect as well.  I need to read up on what kind of adaptations are necessary when cooking pastry at high altitudes.  

Fall Planting 

I finished planting the last of the onion slips this morning, and did a little more double-digging of the next bed over.  The area I'm digging is pretty shady throughout the day so I'm pondering what I could plant there.  In the late summer, I planted lettuce in the area because the late summer sun is intense and I didn't want the plants to bolt immediately.  The lettuce grew fine there but once mature, it tasted horrible:  bitter, bitter, bitter.  I've read that this can happen when the sun is too intense or the watering is inconsistent.  

Now I have two beds of garlic sprouts, and one (plus a little more) of onions. Also a bed of kale and one of spinach.  I have to water them by hand now that the drip irrigation meter has been shut off and put inside for the winter. I've been thinking about getting row covers for the kale and spinach, but it doesn't really seem worth it for such a small of amount of food.  I do definitely want to be able to do this in future winters, though, and imagine I'll be able to.  This year I wasn't able to get much going for cole crops, given the lateness of arrival in New Mexico and my lack of familiarity with how to garden here.  Next year, I'd like to have a whole host of things continuing to grow:  Brussels sprouts, cabbage, cauliflower, broccoli, lettuce, etc.  The days have enough sunshine and are warm enough for these things to grow, and they just need to be protected from the frost.  Other things, like tomatoes, need warmer nighttime temperatures.  

Also, this year, because I was so late getting started, I didn't order my garlic and onion starts from seed companies;  I had to settle with what was left at the local hardware and gardening center.  I have no idea what varieties they are--the tags on the packages don't even say.  Are they appropriate varieties for the high desert climate?  I dunno.   And I've never started garlic and onions in the fall before, I've always waited until the spring, so it's an experiment for me to see how fall planting is different from spring planting.  I'm thinking they'll come to maturity much earlier than they would otherwise, given what I've read and what makes sense (they'll have a head start on their growth, before the ground freezes).  

I'm letting a few things go to seed so that I can save the seeds for next year.  The arugula and radishes  have flowers and seed pods developing.

Radish flowers

Radish seed pods

Arugula flowers

Another beautiful New Mexico day

In other news, I had to switch health care plans when we moved here from the Maryland/Virginia area.  That's definitely a scary process when you've got ongoing medical conditions, and take medications daily.  I currently get monthly infusions and I was very worried that I wouldn't be able to find a rheumatologist in time to get my next one.  It's now about a month since my last infusion.  Just yesterday, I was able to locate a rheumatologist accepting new patients and who is willing to see me today.  I'm sure there will be some red tape that I'll have to work through in order to get this new doctor to authorize an infusion, but I'm happy that I was able to set something up and at least get the process started.  It's really scary when you depend so much on doctors for treatment and medication, to be between doctors and not know if you'll be able to get the medication that helps you manage your symptoms.  

Final flower of the year

And that's a ponder.  Imagine that things do get a little crazy over the next few years.  I don't know how I and others, especially those with more serious medical conditions than mine, will manage--if we can't access medication.  My insurance doesn't allow me to get more than a three-month supply of medication.  My mom's insurance allows her to only get one month of her psychiatric medications at a time from the pharmacy. This makes stockpiling medications impossible. And some medications are even more difficult to manage, such as my monthly infusions (which require me to visit an infusion center) or those requiring refrigeration.  I'd survive and so would my mom (though she'd be a challenge to be around...), but there are many who wouldn't.  Do we just write them off?  I wonder if health insurance companies have disaster planning people, and if they have a plan for how to continue to meet the needs of their consumers if the mail and/or power become non-functional or unreliable.  Frankly, I can't imagine what kind of a plan would help in that case.