• apple farro salad

    When I’m my best self, I keep a container of cooked grains—quinoa, bulgur, wheat berries, brown rice, etc—in the fridge for fast lunch salads. When I’m my even better self, I turn the aforementioned grains into an enormous salad that lasts for an entire week of pious noontime feastings.

    Note: these noble lunches are often followed by coffee and still-frozen chocolate chip cookies while slouched on the sofa writing braggy posts about righteous lunches.

    Farro is sort of hard to come by. After an active search yielded nothing, I settled for Keeping My Eyes Open and occasionally thinking about ordering it from Amazon. Finally, months later, the stuff showed up at Costco (though I think it was a temporarily stocked item because I haven’t seen it in a while) and I pounced.

    I pronounce farro like the title of an Egyptian king, but really it’s pronounced like I’ve-got-FAR-to-go-O. Either way, farro is a kind of wheat grain, similar to spelt and emmer, though its exact identity is unknown. It looks like wheat berries, but a bit larger. When cooked, the texture is chewy-soft, and the flavor is a mix between a hearty pasta-slash-brown rice. It’s easier to cook than quinoa (no rinsing) and rice (no tricky steaming). Also, it’s good for you.

    This is the salad I ate this week: cider-simmered farro in an olive oil and cider vinegar dressing with black olives, apples, celery, parsley, etc.

    It’s shockingly simple.

    As most noble things are.


    Apple Farro Salad
    Adapted from the November 2014 issue of Bon Appetit

    The recipe called for 1 part farro to 2 parts cider and 2 parts water. I thought it sounded excessive, and I was right—I ended up draining off lots of excess liquid. So I’ve amended the recipe. There’s no need to waste good cider.

    1 cup farro
    1 bay leaf
    2 cups apple cider
    1 cup (maybe less) water
    2 tablespoons apple cider vinegar
    2 tablespoons olive oil
    1-2 ribs celery, leaves included, diced
    1 small apple, cored and diced
    1/4 cup minced onion
    ½ cup chopped fresh parsley
    1/4 generous cup chopped black olives
    1/4 cup Parmesan cheese, coarsely grated
    black pepper and salt

    Combine bay leaf, apple cider, some salt, and water in a saucepan. Boil, reduce heat to medium, add farro and simmer, uncovered, for 20-30 minutes. Drain. Spread the cooked farro on a baking sheet to cool.

    Combine the remaining ingredients before adding to the cooked farro. Mix well.

    This same time, years previous: stuffed peppers, quiche soup, how to bake pie on the stove top, apples schmapples, hamburger buns and sloppy joes, and roasting pumpkin.  

  • the business of school

    On yesterday morning’s drive to the orthodontist, I heard an NPR report about how employee reviews are ineffective and unhelpful. Apparently, rankings and number ratings do not enhance performance or boost morale. In fact, they squelch creativity and passion. As a result, some businesses are attempting to move away from “systems driven by compliance” to “systems that are driven by meaningful conversations and with the employees’ benefit in mind.”

    Right away my thoughts moved to schools. What are the parallels? If employee ratings are stupid (the interviewee’s words, not mine), then where does that leave the academic grading system?

    This same time, years previous: the quotidian (10.28.13), the details, the quotidian (10.29.12),
    under the grape arbor, and garden notes of 2009.

  • the quotidian (10.27.14)

    Quotidian: daily, usual or customary; 
    everyday; ordinary; commonplace



    Season’s colors.

    Classic.

    Not so classic: what my daughter requests for her work lunches.

    Donut party hostess gift: amaranth—a.k.a. Love Lies Bleeding—in blue wine bottle.

    Some sort of yard party.

    Fuzz.

    The flock: Jessica, a yet-to-be-named female that my daughter got in exchange for Omri
    and a visiting ram.

    The awkward teen that’s supposed to get the job done.
    #feelingdoubtful

    15
    Morning science.

    Actually getting along.

    Curiosity.

    Roar.

    This same time, years previous: in the garden, the quotidian (10.25.11), sweet potato pie, the morning kitchen, signs, news, and daydreams, and pizza with curried pumpkin sauce, sausage, and apples.