When things fall apart (bake banana bread)

It could start with a furnace.

You come home after a couple of days away. It is mid-winter and mid-cold snap. A few days before, too far down the highway to turn back, you realized you had forgotten to set the heat on its energy-conserving temperature. Oh well. At least after a long ride home you can expect to open the back door to a toasty, welcoming sixty-eight degrees.

Wait a minute! It’s fifty-one in here. You think back to the cold snap a few years ago, and recall how your cranky old Victorian would not warm up no matter how high you set the thermostat. So you put on a couple of sweaters, your warmest and woolliest socks, and you crawl into bed under a down quilt and all the extra wool blankets you can steal from around the house.

After a few days, it warms up outside to an almost reasonable just-below-freezing temperature. Your house responds. It is now sixty-four degrees (heat still up to the max) but you can tough it out.

Wait another minute! What’s that funny smell?

Man of the House returns home from a trip and checks the oil burner. He calls the oil company. A logical, manly step that the little woman did not take. The flashlight-carrying guy with oil stained hands in the scruffy teal jacket drops by and takes a look.  Whoa! Many little things have gone awry. You immediately block them from your brain and cut to the bottom line. There’s a crack in the furnace. Oh, THAT explains the fine layer of soot you noticed seeping into every corner, graying the curtains, the walls, the moldings, and settling on top of each and every picture frame in each and every room. You stubbornly ignore it. It’s like living in New York City with the windows open you tell yourself. You can deal with it.

No you can’t.

You need a new furnace. And you need to insulate the mausoleum, the purchase of which was the biggest miscalculation you’ve made in your married life—for which mostly you are to blame. (Like Goldilocks, you’re still trying to get the size right.) So here you are with a heart full of regret and a white elephant that needs another huge influx of cash.

Now College Boy is pointing out a broken bit on the kitchen faucet. (That’s a new kitchen faucet, dammit.) The paint on the bathroom ceiling is starting to crack and curl and soon enough it will be gently cascading down like so many little snowflakes. The white slipcovers on your mother’s old furniture are beyond washing and restoring. You feel your life needs washing and restoring, too. Come to think of it, what are you doing with your life? Are you having identity crisis number nine hundred and ninety nine? Yes, you are.

This is the moment when you imagine walking out the door and never looking back. You envision a breezy little trailer on a deserted spit of beach where the sun often shines and the weather is always convenient.

Suddenly the deck of cards that is your life, the deck you so neatly and fastidiously stacked just so, starts to fall. You watch somewhat fascinated by the beauty of it. It winds and curls and you hear a faint flap flap flap as each card falls upon the next. It is not about the furnace. The furnace is simply the manifestation of a series of events gone wrong and they have taken you to this place, which at the moment, feels like it’s all falling apart.

There must be an upside to all this. You know there is. Think. Think.

Well, for one thing, people don’t change unless they have to. That’s a terrible truth, but it is a truth. Having a smackdown from your furnace or any other small to catastrophic event in your life can always be used to get your butt in gear.

Here’s another truth: when one door closes another door opens. Stupid platitudes are usually based on truth, so you shouldn’t ignore them just because they’re stupid platitudes. If you are too busy looking at the thing that’s falling apart you might not notice what’s opening up.

Notes to self, when things fall apart:

• Remember, you are the same person you were yesterday, before this mess.

• Fix what you can because, miraculously, some things can be fixed right away!

• Look for outside resources if you don’t have them yourself.

   (For instance, there are interest-free loans out there to cover heat emergencies)

• Think of a meltdown as an opportunity to make changes. They might be improvements.

• Limit self-pity to 15 minutes or one day, depending.

• Take a walk outside and breathe slowly. Do this as often as possible.

• Notice how, in nature, things are always falling apart and renewing. It’s normal.

• Allow yourself to not know the answer right away.

• Make space for not knowing much of anything.

• It’s lonely out there in space. Make peace with that.

• Imagine a life that feels happy. Take notes.

• Sit quietly and breathe for several minutes at a time (aka meditation; let it be simple).

• When you can’t do anything about it, bake banana bread.

Espresso Banana Bread with Chocolate Covered Walnuts

I’ve been tinkering with banana bread for years. While this recipe is not health food by any means, it still contains some whole-wheat flour because I love the way it tastes with bananas. The idea of coating walnuts in chocolate comes from Jess Thomson at Hogwash (read her blog, you’ll like it.) I have finally gotten around to trying it, and lo and behold, it is easy and is indeed an epiphany. When baked in two pans, the loaves are somewhat flat, but in my book, that just adds to their homey feel. If you’re not careful you could down a half a loaf in no time. Save some to share with a friend.

Makes 2 small loaves

1/2 cup chopped bittersweet chocolate or chocolate chips (100 g)

1 cup walnuts, broken in pieces (100g)

3 to 4 ripe bananas

1 cup all-purpose flour (121g)

3/4 cup whole wheat flour (108 g)

1 1/2 teaspoons baking powder  (7.35g)

1/2 teaspoon baking soda (2.5g)

1/4 teaspoon salt (1.7g)

1/2 teaspoon nutmeg (1g)

3/4 cup brown sugar (180g)

2 large eggs

1/4 cup butter (1/2 stick), melted (57g)

1/4 cup olive oil (55g)

2 teaspoons vanilla extract (8g)

1/2 sour cream or crème fraiche (121g)

1/4 cup brewed espresso (59g) or 1 heaping teaspoon instant espresso dissolved in 1 tablespoon water

1. Heat the oven to 350 degrees F. Line a baking sheet with parchment or waxed paper. Butter and flour 2 small loaf pans (8-inches by 3 1/2-inches).

2. Melt the chocolate in a heatproof bowl over hot water or in the microwave at 30-second intervals. Stir the walnuts into the chocolate to coat them and spread them on the wax paper lined baking sheet so they are not touching. Refrigerate until firm while you make the batter.

3. Mash the bananas in a bowl with a potato masher or with the paddle attachment of a stand mixer.

4. In a separate bowl, whisk the flour, baking powder, baking soda, salt and nutmeg together.

5. Add the eggs, brown sugar, melted butter, walnut or olive oil, vanilla and sour cream to the bananas. Stir by hand with a whisk or with the paddle attachment of a stand mixer until well blended. Fold in the dry ingredients by hand until just blended.  Stir in the nuts.

6. Divide the batter between the loaf pans and bake for 40 to 50 minutes, until a toothpick poked into the center of a loaf emerges with only a few crumbs. Cool in the pans for 10 minutes and turn out on a rack to completely cool. Wrapped in plastic, the banana bread will keep for about 3 days at room temperature and can be frozen for up to 3 months.

Note: You probably don’t want to eat bananas that are all speckly like this, but they are perfect for banana bread. When bananas are past their prime, FREEZE them for later: peel them and wrap them individually in plastic wrap. Pop them in a heavy-duty freezer bag and store them in the freezer until you are ready to use them. Defrost at room temperature or nuke them briefly in the microwave.

Blogging around:

Banana Bread (Simply Recipes)

Jess Thomson's Banana Bread (Hogwash)

Banana Cake (David Lebovitz)

Goals, ambitions and a vegetable barley soup recipe

Don’t be confused by the blog title. I’m moving. Or trying to move. My tech skills are so limited it’s like trying to move twenty years of belongings to a new house in a VW bug. It will take a while. Not that I’ve been blogging for twenty years—though sometimes it feels like that—it’s just a slow process. Eventually I’ll be at sallypasley.com. But I’m getting ahead of myself. I’m too impatient to have it all sewed up before I roll it out, so I hope you’ll tolerate going on the ride with me.

My new blog title “Cooking Lessons” more accurately reflects what I like to write about. Hint: it’s not the recipes. BUT, since I cook and bake and teach and write about food, of course I’ll be throwing in recipes and I hope they will make your lives easier or inspire you to cook.

I went to a blogger camp in January and had a wonderful time. I met a lot of good people, and came away with a lot of information and even more questions: Why I am blogging? And what do I want to blog about? (I’m still chewing on that. I’ll get back to you: I promised you a ride, didn’t I?)  My fellow campers had a variety of goals and ambitions, so I was forced to consider mine. The short take-away: goals and ambitions are overrated.

The main problem with goals and ambitions is that they’re so darn future-oriented. I’m finding a lot more peace living in the present and I’m trying to stay there. So how do you achieve or accomplish things without goals? I guess I’m loosening up on that one, too. My new acronym is NOMB: None.Of. My. Business. None of my damn business. Outcomes are just not what I want to live for. They’re so unpredictable and unreliable; worrying about them really cuts into your joie de vivre.

In this vein, I kind of backed away from lot of things that were making me uncomfortable (read, crazy.) I’ve been working on another book that I am now completely revamping, but the truth? Its publication is NOMB!! And when I thought about it, the other truth is: I really don’t care! This was a revelation. Not to say that I wouldn’t be thrilled if my thoughts see the light of day, but publishing a book is, like everything else, fleeting. And will the world be that much of a better place if my name is on the cover of a book? I seriously doubt it. If you could see me now, you would see me doing a little dance of freedom!

Living without goals is a lot harder in practice than it is in theory, so I’m taking it in small bites. I’m promising myself I can drink a hot cup of coffee and daydream, instead of running around in the morning trying to get a million things done so I can meet some self imposed goals. And I’ll do more stuff I really feel inspired and excited to do, instead of straining to get something done that fits in with my sometimes ill-advised ambitions. I’ll let you know how it goes. I feel a little tingle of joy just thinking about how much more fun life could be.

Now I’ll throw in a recipe, apropos of nothing. That more or less reflects my state of mind. Life is what happens while you’re busy cooking something. And this soup will help to pass the time while the snow melts. Even though I promised myself to stay in the present, that eventuality is one I really look forward to!

Vegetable Barley Soup

Serves 4

You can never have enough warming soups in your repertoire at this time of year, and this vegetable barley soup engenders a few variations. Looking for a filling vegetarian meal? Add a little freshly grated Parmesan and use water or vegetable stock; the soup has plenty of flavor without meat. Need to satisfy the meat lovers in your family? Add some cooked and sliced sausage or shredded leftover chicken. Either way, this is a satisfying and comforting way to reward yourself at the end of a chilly day.

2 tablespoons olive oil

1 large onion, finely chopped

1 clove garlic, finely chopped

3 medium carrots, cut in 3/8-inch dice

2 stalks celery, cut in 3/8-inch dice

1 leek, finely sliced

1 large thin-skinned potato such as Yukon Gold, cut in 3/8-inch dice

1/4 teaspoon dried thyme

1 can (15 ounces) whole tomatoes with juice, crushed in a bowl

3/4 cup barley

8 cups low-salt vegetable broth, chicken broth or water

1/2 teaspoon salt

Freshly ground black pepper

1 cup frozen peas

1/4 cup chopped parsley, for garnish

1. In a large soup pot, heat the oil over medium heat until it shimmers. Add the onions, garlic, carrots, celery, leeks and potatoes to the pot and decrease the heat to medium low. Stir occasionally and cook the vegetables gently until they begin to soften, 8 to 10 minutes. Stir in the tomatoes and barley.

2. Pour in the stock and bring the soup to a simmer. Add the salt and pepper to taste. Simmer for 35 to 45 minutes, until the barley is soft. Taste and adjust the salt and pepper. Stir in the peas and cook until they are tender, about 5 minutes. Ladle the soup into warm bowls and garnish with parsley.

p.s. Happy Valentines Day! Check out these recipes for your sweetheart.

Read more about goals and ambitions at zenhabits.