I’m taking a class on Sunday nights at church called Life Keys: Discovering Your Design. Basically for every session we look at a different personality evaluation and think about where we fit on its given spectrum, but it’s all done through the lens of having been created by a Designer for a Purpose. So as we figure out things about ourselves, we’re able to examine what that might mean as far as a vocation, as far as leisure time, and as far as relationships with our spouses, friends, and family. I’ve been feeling a bit at loose ends lately, so I’m hoping doing some of this soul searching will give me some clarity, or even just peace about why I am the ways I am.

I missed last Sunday’s class, but I got together with the instructor for coffee to talk about the lesson. It was on values, which the book defines as things that:

• feel important to you,
• define your fundamental character,
• supply meaning to your life and work,
• influence the decisions you make,
• compel you to take and stand, and
• describe atmospheres where you can be productive.

The exercise walks you through a list of values and has you rank them into a list of 8 that are very important to you. My eight ended up being:

1. competency
2. control
3. efficiency
4. fairness
5. financial security
6. productivity
7. organization
8. stability

Sensing a bit of a theme there? My instructor did, and as we were talking about what competency, control, and productivity meant to me and how I lived those values out, he looked at me and said, “How do you rest, Laura?”

I squirmed a little and then I said, “Cooking? To which he pointed out that if that’s my rest, then even my rest involves doing. It’s true, although I still think it can be a form of rest. The kitchen is definitely one of my happy places.

I read a lot, and I suppose that is a way of resting, but I don’t approach my books in a restful manner. Unless I’m completely engrossed, I’m often thinking, “I really could/should be doing x, y, z right now instead of enjoying this book.” And more often, I use reading as a reward: “I’ll sit down and read after I finish cleaning the bathroom and get dinner in the oven.” But the list of things I have to do first often grows and grows, until it is bedtime and I have yet to pick up my book. So I guess it’s clear that I struggle to prioritize rest, and in fact can hardly think what rest would feel like or look like for me personally.

On Saturday, I spontaneously decided to go see the newest Twilight movie. I actually really like going to the movies by myself. I splurged on a Diet Coke and a popcorn, and as the lights went down and the theme music poured out of the speakers I thought, “Ah! This feels sort of like I’m maybe resting.” I was completely taken away by the movie–this  might belong to a different post, but for what it’s worth, I found the emotions much more real in this one, and something about those darn CGI wolves just tugged right at my heartstrings! I thought the ending was well done and the end credits were pretty epic. ANYWAY, as I practiced escapism in its truest form, I realized I felt rested. I should do that more often.

BUT, as a list-maker, organizer, and doer, adding any “shoulds” to my repertoire could be dangerous. Once something becomes a should, I’m likely to make time for it–but at that point, will it even be restful anymore?

At church yesterday, as the pastor introduced communion and invited us to the Lord’s table, he said, “Brothers and Sisters, come take your meal and find your rest.”

Whoa.

It gave me pause to hear the table described like that, and also the timing for his particular invitation was uncanny.

I clearly don’t have the answers about rest, but I’m sure hoping to find some, because I think I need it, especially going into the busy-ness of the holiday season.

How do you rest?

When fall comes around, I go pumpkin crazy. I’ve always loved the pumpkin pie at Thanksgiving, but I’m not sure I ever thought about enjoying pumpkin outside of that one day a year until Starbucks pumpkin spice lattes came into my life. Now, I’m one of those people who gets excited when it’s featured on their menu again every year (though one of my coworkers reminded me that you can get whatever flavor drink you want at Starbucks all year round). Even though we don’t usually get much of a fall in the South, once the calendar hits September, I have pumpkin on the brain. When I realized I had a preposterous number of pumpkin recipes pinned, I decided to share them here. Here's the 9th of 10 different pumpkin recipes for your gustatory pleasure--all that's left is the pumpkin pie!

I'm not much of a baker, but I've come to enjoy making quick breads, i.e. breads that don't need to rise and be kneaded. They really are quite quick to pull together! I've had Trader Joe's boxed pumpkin bread mix before and thought it was really tasty, so I decided to do a comparison between it and "real" pumpkin bread.

 

I went with a recipe from my trusty Fannie Farmer cookbook (on the left above); the one in Baking at Home a) made 2 loaves and b) required ingredients I didn't have on hand. Plus, ole Fannie has stood me in good stead for similar products, so I trusted her. The recipe basically included flour, sugar, water, oil, spices, and pumpkin puree: simple! You can see from the Trader Joe's box that it's basically that, as well, only with added preservatives, and pumpkin flakes instead of pumpkin puree. Yum?

Unfortunately the Fannie Farmer recipe called for 1 cup of pumpkin instead of a whole can (probably because she assumes you've made your own), so I was left with another partial can of pumpkin. :-(

The batters mixed up pretty similarly, though obviously the Fannie Farmer involved more measuring (and "sifting" again).

Fannie Farmer batter mixed up

Trader Joe's batter mixed up

The batter from the Trader Joe's mix was a little runnier, and not quite as pretty of an orange hue. You can see from the two pictures below that it evened out a little better into the loaf pan:

But the true test is the taste test, right?

First of all, when I cut the Trader Joe's bread, it ended up like this:

Boo! It had developed somewhat of a sugary crust on top, though I didn't add any sugar or anything to it, and the bread inside was so soft that even my sharp knife had trouble cutting through it cleanly.

I heated the breads up with colored toothpicks so I would know which was which (though actually, I could tell), and had Andy help me taste them. It was a real hardship on his part, you know.

The one on the left is Trader Joe's. You can see it's not as orange-y and not as fluffy. It was a little drier and a little sweeter, though I felt like it had perhaps a bit more flavor. With no prompting from me, though, Andy chose the "real" recipe as the winner. It was moister and just seemed like a better bread all around. It's also probably nice that it doesn't have all the preservatives of the boxed mix. The Trader Joe's mix is only $2.99, but if you have the ingredients in your pantry for the Fannie Farmer bread, it's surely cheaper. I'd say turn to Joe in an absolute pinch, but if you can stomach a brief stint of baking, the from-scratch bread is worth the bit of extra effort.

I read a fascinating article awhile ago about making friends as an adult. (Well, it was about making friends over the age of 30, but I’ll extrapolate, because I think it applies.) This is obviously something that I’ve given a lot of thought to in the past few years, especially since moving to Atlanta. For me one of the stumbling blocks always seems to be, “But I have these awesome friends in other places and I don’t know how to make this new relationship be like the one I have with So and So.”

The article states that “the three conditions that sociologists since the 1950s have considered crucial to making close friends: proximity; repeated, unplanned interactions; and a setting that encourages people to let their guard down and confide in each other.”

This seems to happen easily in college. You’ve obviously got the proximity thing down pat, and unplanned interactions happen easily in the cafeteria, the post office, the gym, the dorm bathroom. And we’re you’re literally living together, it’s pretty easy to let your guard down.

I spent 6 years in a dorm setting and have the friends to prove it. But once I graduated and was living in Huntsville, I exclaimed to Andy one night, “I don’t think I’m very good at making friends!” It’s so, so hard to move beyond a relationship where you see each other in a certain setting and get along well but never interact outside of that one place. And it’s even harder to know who and how to approach to try and make that happen. The author of the article puts it this way about a woman she has seen 4 times in the course of a year: “We are “friends,” but not quite friends. We keep trying to get over the hump, but life gets in the way.”

It’s so true. When everyone has jobs and marriages and especially kids, it takes an act of congress to meet up with people. I had a drink last night with two friends from my church small group who have moved to new neighborhoods. We planned the get-together 18 days ago. Hardly an unplanned interaction. But that doesn’t discount how great and important it is to see your friends. In fact, in some ways it adds even more weight to the relationship that you’re willing to set something on your calendar that far in advance.

I’ve watched my parents build a community around themselves since moving 8 years ago, and it’s pretty incredible all the different places where they’ve developed relationships. I guess for most of my life their main social group (especially for my mom) was by default the other parents of my friends, swim team-mates, etc. But now they have a pretty rich group of people with whom they do fun and interesting things.

The article puts forth a case study on a certain approach to adult friendships: “Some, like Ms. Degliantoni, the fund-raising executive, simply downsize their expectations. ‘I take an extremely efficient approach and seek out like-minded folks to fill very specific needs,’ she said of her current strategy. ‘I have a cocktail friend and a book friend and a parenting friend and several basketball friends and a neighbor friend and a workout friend. It’s much easier filling in those gaps in my life,” she added, “than doing an exhaustive approach for a new friend.’”

I could see that working pretty well actually, and being nice enough, but my heart still craves that friendship, even if it’s just one, where you can call someone and know they’ll be right over if you need them to.

I’m clearly not an expert on this, but I’m working on it…though let’s not talk about keeping up with the old friends, ‘cause that’s a whole ‘nother can of worms.

The most recent list of fiction books available to review for Bethany House Publisher didn’t thrill me when I initially saw it. But as I perused the list more closely, one book in particular jumped out at me: The Bridesmaid, by Beverly Lewis.

In the last few years, Amish fiction has taken off. No, not fiction by Amish people; fiction (mostly romances, honestly) about Amish people. In a Salon.com article on this very topic, Steve Oates, vice president of marketing for Bethany House, says, “bonnet books are a sure thing and have been ever since Beverly Lewis single-handedly gave birth to the genre in the late ’90s.” (The article also cites that, “Incidentally, Wal-Mart accounts for 50 percent of the sales of Amish fiction’s top authors.”) He continues, “bonnet book readers get really emotionally connected to the characters and their lives. That means the authors are really doing their job.”

I knew of the Amish fiction genre but have always mentally scoffed at it (despite my love of Nicholas Sparks). But when I saw this book by Beverly Lewis, “the queen of the bonnet book,” available to review, I thought, “Why not give it a shot?”

The Bridesmaid follows the story of 24-year-old Joanna Kurtz, an old maid by Plain standards, who has been three times a bridesmaid but never a bride. As you might hope, she meets a man, Eben, but he lives in a different state–a big deal for people whose lives are dictated by the Ordnung of their bishop. They struggle through a long-distance relationship, but much hinges on the return of Eben’s brother, who appears to have chosen the English (that is, non-Amish) world over his farm heritage. The book takes soft twists and turns. The romance, obviously, is understated, which was somewhat refreshing. The novel paints a picture of Amish family life that comes across as idyllic when compared with the hustle and bustle and noise most of us face. I really wanted to sit down to dinner with the Kurtz family at their weathered farmhouse table and dig into their hearty, delicious-sounding food!

I don’t know how realistic the Amish details are, but I have to admit there is something fascinating about being a fly on the wall of a different culture. However, I wondered the whole time what the Amish community would think of these books. I doubt they’re hiding under the covers reading them, but who knows! Unfortunately the dialect that Lewis uses throughout was a stumbling block to my enjoyment of the book. Presumably the dialogue is “really” happening in Pennsylvania Dutch, but the book is obviously written in English. Lewis throws in a German phrase or two as if to add to the authenticity, and there’s the odd colloquial English word or phrase too. I had trouble taking the “ya”s and “ain’t”s seriously for some reason. Although, I think I may just be adopting the word “ferhoodled” for my own use. (Feelin’ ferhoodled today, ain’t ya?)

All in all the book was enjoyable enough. It was pretty light and fluffy but mostly satisfying. I was engaged enough to find Joanna’s sister quite annoying but not enough to be moved when the romantic conclusion finally came about. It was pat and rather predictable, and I don’t think I’m a convert to the Amish fiction way. I can understand, though, why so many women have bought into the genre–it’s good old romantic escapism, and I can’t blame them for enjoying it!

When fall comes around, I go pumpkin crazy. I’ve always loved the pumpkin pie at Thanksgiving, but I’m not sure I ever thought about enjoying pumpkin outside of that one day a year until Starbucks pumpkin spice lattes came into my life. Now, I’m one of those people who gets excited when it’s featured on their menu again every year (though one of my coworkers reminded me that you can get whatever flavor drink you want at Starbucks all year round). Even though we don’t usually get much of a fall in the South, once the calendar hits September, I have pumpkin on the brain. When I realized I had a preposterous number of pumpkin recipes pinned, I decided to share them here. Here’s the 8th of 10 different pumpkin recipes for your gustatory pleasure!

This week’s recipe is a savory change from all the sweets and baked goods I’ve featured lately. Pumpkin soup was one of the things I made a few falls ago when Andy and I cut up a pumpkin to cook with, but it was a strange recipe and I wasn’t a fan of the final product. But I decided to give it a try with another recipe: Rachael Ray’s Sausage, Pumpkin, and Arborio Soup.

The object lesson from this week’s recipe is not to be intimidated by ingredients you don’t have or don’t know. I hardly used any of the specific things that were actually called for in this recipe! I didn’t want to spend $6 on a tub of arborio rice to get the 3/4 cup I needed for this recipe, so I decided to use regular white rice. Kroger was out of bulk Italian sausage except for the “hot” flavor when I shopped this week, so I bought mild Italian sausages and removed the casings (which was so weird, by the way, but easily doable!). I didn’t have the called-for sage, and my sausage didn’t have fennel in it, and I used ground nutmeg instead of fresh. I didn’t know what Tuscan kale was, nor did I see it at the store, so I just bought kale. But gasp most surprising of all, I actually made the recipe with the alternative of butternut squash instead of pumpkin because there were none at the store! I guess now that Halloween was over they were all rotten or sold. So, this week’s In Pursuit of Pumpkin recipe doesn’t actually have pumpkin in it, but it could, so I’m counting it.

The ingredients look pretty different from previous weeks!

• 2 tablespoons EVOO, plus more for drizzling
• 1 pound bulk Italian sweet sausage with fennel
• 3 to 4 cloves garlic, chopped
• 1 onion, chopped
• 1 large bay leaf
• 1 butternut squash or small pumpkin (2 pounds), peeled and cut into 3/4-inch dice
• Kosher salt and freshly ground pepper
• Freshly grated nutmeg
• 6 cups chicken stock
• 2 cups half-and-half
• 1 small bunch Tuscan kale, stemmed and chopped
• 3/4 cup Arborio rice
• A few fresh sage leaves, torn
• Shaved Parmigiano-Reggiano, for serving

I chopped up the onion and garlic, wrestled the butternut squash into something resembling cubes (those things are hard…literally!), and peeled off the sausage casings.

Then I browned the sausage in a little bit of EVOO, as Rachael calls it, adding the onion and garlic once it was fully brown. Those cooked together for 5 minutes.

I chopped the kale while this was simmering. I had a giant bunch, so I only used a portion of it to approximate the “small bunch of Tuscan kale.”

Next, add the squash to your pot and season with salt, pepper, and nutmeg.

Finally, pour in the chicken stock (I used broth) and half-and-half and bring to a boil. It starts looking pretty weird at this point!

Stir in the kale and reduce heat to low, simmering for 20 minutes or until the squash is tender.

Somehow it looked much more appealing to me once the kale was thrown in the mix. The  liquid looked pretty weird while it was boiling, but otherwise it seemed to do what it was supposed to do. If you’re serving it right away, you would add the rice at the end of the 20 minutes and simmer another 18-20 minutes, or until the rice is tender. I prepared this a day ahead minus the rice as the recipe says you can, and when I pulled it out of the fridge the next night was able to skim off a layer of sausage fat from the top. Yum. But if you’re wanting to make a not health-conscious recipe slightly healthier that might be a way to do it. :-)

This soup sounds fancy and looks pretty nice, but it really couldn’t have been much easier! It has good flavors and is a nice colorful addition to your fall dinner table.