Broccoli Anyone?

We can get any food we want, in almost any location, in any season.  It has been this way my whole life.  Have you ever stopped to think about how amazing that is?  When there is snow on the ground outside, I can buy strawberries, peppers, zucchini, summer squash, avocados, and almost anything else I desire.  Part of this is due to the ability to ship food across the country, and part of it is due to the ability to flash freeze and package.

There is a wonderful book by Barbara Kingsolver called Animal, Vegetable, Miracle recommended to me because I want to become a farmer... well, maybe not, but I do enjoy many of the farm tasks like growing vegetables, composting, and moving dirt around.  The book is about the author's family and their attempt to eat only locally grown food for an entire year.  They scour the local farmers markets, grow a surprising amount of their own food, and make it through the year.  The winter of course, is the hardest part as surviving on what can be stored from a fall harvest is tricky, not to mention that root cellars are no longer on the must have list in a new home. (Believe me, I've checked.)

One way of preserving summer and fall vegetables is by freezing them.  Yes this takes energy, not to mention valuable space in the freezer, but things like kale and broccoli don't keep in a root cellar, even if our Wakefield apartment had one. (Which it doesn't, I've looked.)  So I embarked on a project.  Over the summer, my mom has a market garden, though due to COVID, she did not participate in the market, so there was a bounty.  Every week I went grocery shopping in my parent's backyard, picking raspberries, (okay, Stephanie did most of the picking.) kale, spinach, and many other things.  We don't go though all of that in a week, so I started to preserve them.  I'll give the steps I took to freeze things below.

Typically, we  also get an assortment of frozen vegetables when we go food shopping, but they come wrapped in plastic.  While things like broccoli are not strictly in season right now, I thought it is at least better to buy the unpackaged stuff rather, so we tried it.  We now have a re-usable bag full of frozen broccoli and a little less guilt about how it got there.  In the future, we will either grow it ourselves, or buy locally grown and preserve it.

Preserving the broccoli.  This system will also work for other vegetables like kale and spinach.

1.  Cut the vegetable into the size you would like to have later.  I use the broccoli florets and keep the stem for broth.

2.  Blanch or steam until 75% cooked.  Don't cook it all the way because when you reheat it, the veggies will get soggy and gross.

2.  Place a single layer of broccoli on a silicone baking mat which is in turn placed on a cookie sheet. (Now I want cookies).

3.  Let it freeze completely.  I usually leave it overnight.

4.  Place in a reusable bag or container and return to the freezer.  

5.  That's it!  Just take them out of the freezer and add to whatever you are making at the last minute because remember, they are already mostly cooked.

Processing, steaming, and placing in the freezer took about 15 minutes, so this is an easy one!

In the end, we still bought out of season, but have plans for something better next year.  We still have raspberries from last summer in the freezer.  I take them out now and again to make jam or a topping for some delicious dessert.  Maybe I'll do a post on raspberries sometime.

Thoughts on Sustainable Architecture

I quit my job to pursue this most necessary ambition called sustainable architecture.  Once in a while you come to a point when the thing you are doing stops being the right thing.  William McDonough says that there is a difference between asking the question "Am I doing it right?" and "Am I doing the right thing?"  I've been asking myself the second question since I graduated from architecture school in 2012.  My thought back then was I'll learn this profession, the ins and outs, the ways of construction, and then I'll transition to the sustainable way of doing things.  This would allow me to understand conventional construction and to be able to make a case for doing things differently.  I don't know if that was the best way, but it's what I did.

Seven years in, I finally hit that point.  If you are keeping track, that was two years ago. (2021-2012 = 9 years.) Yeah, writing that out was for my benefit... despite a very good architectural education, my math is... passable.  

Anyway, a couple of years ago, I signed up for this new sustainable building standard called Passive House, and my views about how we construct buildings changed forever.  Passive House is a German standard of building developed by building scientists.  The developers understood that there are very obvious ways that buildings gain and lose heat, and those directly impact the energy use of the building and the comfort of those living inside of it.  If you can keep a building from losing heat, then theoretically you don't really have to heat it because humans, appliances, etc. are all producers of heat.  Scientists came up with all kinds of equations to calculate heat loss through the building envelope (walls, roof, floor).

There are five components of Passive House.  I'll list them and then move on, but you can find more information here.

Super-Insulated Envelope

Air-Tight Envelope

Thermal Bridge-Free Construction

High-Performance Glazing

Heat Recovery Ventilation

So I went to school; online and then to NYC where a firm was hosting a week-long class to get certified as a Passive House Consultant.  (I had previously been LEED certified, but the highest rating on that system does not require a net zero building.)  The online portion was easy enough, but the in-person class was the most difficult week I have ever had in architecture education.  This is mostly due to the fact that it was actually mechanical engineering education with LOTS of math. (My favorite, remember?)  I passed the test though, and am now a CPHC (Certified Passive House Consultant). You can see my name listed on the PHIUS (Passive House Institute US) website under Massachusetts.

Fast forward to 2020. After two years of trying to convince my architecture firm that we needed to push the envelope (pun intended),  I had reached the tipping point.  All of the projects going on around me seemed inappropriate.  Nobody was moving in a direction toward sustainability, and I felt like it was no longer "the right thing" to work on projects that didn't take the environment into consideration.  So I quit my job and figured out a way to work on more sustainable projects.  I'm currently working freelance for a couple of different architects and pursuing sustainability at all costs.  

So here are my thoughts:

I use the word appropriate quite often.  It is not appropriate to leave a place worse than I found it.  I learned that in preschool.

I don't think it is appropriate to design a structure that uses more energy than it can produce, or at the very least, more energy than absolutely necessary.  Our resources are finite, and furthermore, they are dirty.  

The building occupants have to pay for the energy a building uses for as long as the building is standing, and it is inappropriate to design something that gives them a higher cost of living or of doing business.  (Passive House, despite its name, is not limited to residential structures.)

I don't think it is appropriate to specify materials that, in the process of construction, expose the builder to harmful chemicals that will likely cause cancer later in life.

I do think it is appropriate to create shelter from the elements.  I think design has an amazing power to change the way people live their lives, or at least to help them live comfortable, healthy lives.  

I do think there is an appropriate way to create that shelter, using the sun, the environment, and the building to mutually benefit each other.

I think that by existing, I have an impact on the things around me.  As William McDonough says, design is a signal of intention.  What then, is our intention, and what kind of an impact can that have?

I think Passive House is a good baseline for design.  Start with a building that produces the same amount of energy that it needs to consume, and that is the starting point.  Then the design is not about reduction and conservation, but about how we want to live our lives.

The above statement should be available and accessible to everyone.  It should not cost two or three times as much, because the right thing should also be the easy thing.  

If being environmentally conscious does cost a little more, we have to find a way to prioritize it.

Find It Used

I have a problem... I admit it, I can't stop looking at Craigslist!  People give away good stuff all the time and all you have to do is go pick it up.  

To be clear, we are not advocates for having lots of stuff.  Quite the opposite in fact.  We purge our apartment often.  We don't want lots of clutter, and we don't want to spend money on items we will not use all of the time.  That said, when we do need something, we are starting to realize the true value of buying used items.  

Stephanie and I are coming to see the benefits of this as we realize more and more that buying new stuff doesn't really benefit our quality of life.  What we really want is the service of some item to gain time, accuracy, or efficiency, but the item itself doesn't necessarily have intrinsic value to us.  It takes lots of resources to create something new, so we are trying to become consumers not of the latest and greatest, but of the older and useful.

The nose of a kayak my parents bought used for me (yard sale!).  The swans in the distance were neither friendly nor happy to see us.

We started our journey (before the pandemic) at Goodwill.  We were moving to our then-new apartment and purging our old ones of all the items that we had picked up over time.  This was eye opening for me because I realized all of the things I had spent money on and how few of them we actually worth keeping.  Someday I'll do a post about buying only what you need and only when you really need it... or maybe it will be part of this post, because that's a really good idea... yeah, okay, here goes.

Only buy what you need when you really need it:

This is such an important part of the whole picture.  Creating fewer items in a more global sense means that fewer resources are dedicated to the making of things.  If I can curb the need to make a cheap plastic snow shovel every winter, or fewer candles because I'm using the whole thing, or a new kitchen scale because I bought one that someone else was done with, it means that the resources to create the item are not used.  

Anyway, back to the original post... Since we were already traveling to Goodwill, we decided to take a look around.  I bought a couple of work and workout shirts, and Stephanie got a couple of pairs of pants.  We spent a total of $10.00 and did not have to buy new.  Craigslist is a whole other adventure, though.  It's like used online shopping.  There are definitely questionable items on there like a woman from Cambridge with a post for three bags of apples.  "I have four bags," she said, "but I'm keeping one of them, so you can have three."  It really is a world of amusement.  Stephanie and I draw the line at food (in case anyone we know is reading this).

Our new philosophy for buying things is as follows:

1.  I need a thing

2.  Do I really need this thing?  Let's wait a couple of days and see if there is a solution to the problem that I already own.  (This is also great for keeping to a budget.)

3.  Do I need to own this item, or can I borrow it?  The library has a host of things you can borrow including a laser measure (which I find useful), telescopes, a guitar, a knitting kit etc.  You can also borrow from a friend.

If all of the above doesn't work:

4.  Can I buy it used?  Goodwill, Savers, Habitat for Humanity Restore, Craigslist and Ebay are all places to buy used items.  (Ebay sometimes sells new stuff, so be careful.)

Sometimes this means we have to wait a little while.  The thing I need may not be available right away or not as fast as it would be from a certain giant e-retailer that shall not be named.  I know this is a difficult thing, but not having exactly what we want exactly when we want it might be a good thing sometimes.  The above process certainly cuts down on buyer's remorse.

Stephanie's wedding dress was used (bought from Rent the Runway), and my suit was used (rented from Men's Warehouse).  Photo credit Val Messer Photography.

In the end, we have bought (or obtained for free, or borrowed, or rented) clothes, a kitchen scale, books, an office chair, bobbins, tongs, a water carafe, a tent, wine glasses, silverware, Stephanie's wedding dress and shoes, my suit, a kitchen table (most of our furniture), teapot, a tennis racket, kayaks, and candle holders.  It is also interesting to note that both of our most expensive possessions (our cars) are used.  Many people buy their most expensive item--their home--used.  I think that sometimes there is a stigma about getting used items, but its not necessary.  

Of course, we do buy new things.  I just bought a new laser measure because I found that I needed one more often than Stephanie could reasonably get it from the library, and accuracy is really important.  So, we are getting better, but as always, not perfect.  

2/7/2021 Quick Update:

Stephanie and I really enjoy a blog called Frugalwoods, and "Mrs. Frugalwood" did a very nice post about the same topic.  Frugalwoods blog

She also wrote a book, which we would also recommend:  Meet the Frugalwoods

EVs: Easier Than I Thought!

What would be a sustainability blog without discussion of electric vehicles?  After the shutdown last spring, when I had to start driving to work again, I realized just how bad I felt about driving to work every day, when I knew that my car was contributing to emissions that cause global warming.  

But I didn't see a way around it: the main roads to work (about 12 miles away) are just too busy to bike safely (if I owned a bike, which I don't), and the back route involves navigating a two-lane rotary where some traffic is entering from highway off-ramps--not very safe, in other words.  Obviously at 12 miles, walking is impractical (four-hour commute each way), and we just can't afford to live in the town where I work, despite the fact that the pay there is generous.  (Anyone wanting to buy us a million-dollar home, please email me directly!)  Oh, and while I both live and work within a five-minute walk of a train station, and those stations are on the same train line, even the pre-pandemic service schedule would have meant arriving with two minutes to spare (ah, nothing like an uphill jog to work to start your day) and waiting about 90 minutes after work to catch a train home: not practical.  

Finally, after feeling worse and worse, Nate suggested I get an electric car.  In hindsight, this is the obvious solution to such a problem, but it's one I hadn't really been willing to consider before.  Where did this long-held resistance come from?  I'm honestly still not sure, but it was there and real.  I'm sure part of it was fear of the unknown: What will maintenance be like?  How does charging work and how much does it cost?  Where can I charge?  What's the range?  Does it handle well in the snow?  Is it even worth it, if I'm just charging with electricity from a coal-fired power plant?

Nonetheless, I did a little online research.  My main question had a surprising answer: even when charging a vehicle from coal-generated electricity, it produces far fewer emissions than a gas-powered car.  Let that sink in for a moment.  Plus, unlike a gas-powered car, which has no hope of being powered by cleaner fuel in the future (your gas tank won't spontaneously be able to run on clean fuel), your electric car can become completely clean if you manage to find a clean source of energy from which to charge it--like home solar panels--and will also become cleaner as more electricity in the grid is generated from clean sources.

To answer my other questions... I did see that charging at an apartment can be tricky (unless it's a luxury apartment that might offer charging as an amenity), but luckily there are three public charging stations within a 10-minute walk of where we live.  The major charging companies offer smartphone apps so you can see all of their chargers in your area.  They seem to handle fine in the snow (lots of folks in Colorado seem happy with them, and it snows there, right?).  Plus, they tend to require less maintenance than gas cars.  (No oil changes!!!  Plus, they have fewer moving parts, thus there's less that can break.)  And the cost to charge is less than to fill up, even with current low gas prices.  Sometimes you can even find free charging.  There are some rebates if you buy brand new, but after some looking, I found a used Nissan Leaf for a price that was right (less than the resale value of my car--even though my car was the same age and had twice the miles).  

So I made the plunge in mid-November.  Two months out, I'm still loving my new-to-me EV.  It's so quiet to drive, it handles well, and I don't feel guilty on my daily commute anymore.  It's way roomier than I expected (it has a good trunk), and while charging requires a little planning ahead, I'm good at that.  (If you have a house where you can install an appropriate outlet or a charger at your apartment, you don't need to plan ahead, because you can just charge overnight as needed.  Easy!)  My car gets about 120 miles per charge, but newer cars will take you further.  For a daily commuter, 120 miles is enough for me.  Even when I was driving to work five days per week, I only needed to charge it twice weekly, maybe three times if we took it out on the weekend.  It's been a great choice for me, and if you're at all curious, I'd definitely say to do some research: you might find that making the switch to electric is easier than you thought.  

Update 1/30/2021: Naturally, a few days after posting this, I read an interesting column in the New York Times by someone who'd recently made the switch to EV--also a Nissan Leaf, though a newer one.  If you want someone else's favorable take, it's worth a read.

I Use One Pen

There is something about the feel of a pen in your hand that bolsters the imagination.  When pen hits paper, all manner of ideas, expressions, and beauty can come out... Unless your pen has run dry and all that comes out is circles of dented paper as you scratch furiously across the page to get this final gosh darn word out so you don't have to get up off the couch and walk all the way over to where you keep the pens!  Obviously I'm speaking from experience here...

The last time my pen ran out and I grabbed the cheap plastic replacement off the shelf, I thought that it's too bad I have to throw this old one out.  Then, when this next one runs out of ink, it also goes to landfill.  It would really be better if I could use one pen and refill it: so the research began.

Now, as a designer, there is something you should understand.  The first part of this post about the feel of a pen in one's hand was not an exaggeration.  The pen, for a designer or artist, is an extension of the brain, facilitated by the hand.  Juhani Pallasmaa, in his book called The Thinking Hand:  Existential and Embodied Wisdom in Architecture, displays the active role that the hand (and by extension the pen) takes in the design process.  Basically with experience, the muscles begin to do the work of the designer before the designer has truly thought it through.

Anyway, I'm sure that was more information than you cared to know, so I'll move on.  So what is the most sustainable way to write on paper?  We aren't really sure, and Google isn't telling, but we know that the cheap plastic pen that you get at the bank or hotel isn't it.  There are lots of options available out there.  For us, the most interesting version is a re-fillable pen.  Unfortunately I'm not crazy about fountain pens, but lucky for me, there are rolling ball refillable pens out there.  Some pens have refill inserts that you can buy, but that still has the single use straw.  I searched through all of the pen options and was about to buy a rolling ball with a refillable reservoir, when the lightbulb in my head turned on.  I already had a rolling ball pen with a replaceable cartridge!  It had gone dry years ago, but it was a graduation gift from the RWU librarians, and I had kept it. 

I quickly took it apart and found that the single-use cartridge inside also had a removeable cap.  I did some research, and as it turns out, you can (carefully) drop new fountain pen ink into the reservoir and the pen will start working again.  I found some ink at an office supply store, used an old eyedropper container, and filled it up.  I put too much and got ink on my desk, but I was prepared for that with a mat I made from scrap fabric.

In the end, the pen works perfectly.  I was able to take something that had been sitting around for years and revive it!  I have been using it for months without any problems.  The ink doesn't leak, and the pen writes as well as it always did.  So now, I use one pen and only one pen for 100% of my note taking, thank you card writing, doodling during a boring meeting, and designing.  I do have other art pens that I use for the cards I make for Etsy, but that's why this blog is called Better, Not Perfect.  Over time, I'll figure out ways to make those pens more sustainable, but for now, at least the pen I use the most is better.

PS--from Stephanie: reading this over, I wanted to know why there is a piece of toilet paper in the last photo, not because I'm opposed to the aesthetics of it (although...), but because it's single-use.  Nate claims that he saves it and re-uses it at each filling.  I said there's a better way...

"She dipped her pen into the ink again... She started to write and then stopped and frowned at the pen.  She pulled an orange dahlia penwiper out of her pocket.

'What are you doing?' I said.

'Wiping my pen,' she said.  She stuck the pen into the dahlia and wiped it off between the layers of cloth.  

'It's a penwiper,' I said. 'A pen wiper!  It's used to wipe pens!'

'Yes,' she said, looking at me dubiously. 'There was ink on the point.  It would have blotted the paper.'

'Of course!  So you wipe it on a penwiper!...  You've solved a mystery that's been plaguing me since 1940" (Willis 311).

Willis, Connie. To Say Nothing of the Dog. Bantam Books/Spectra, 1998. 

Look for a future post showing off the orange dahlia penwiper I'll crochet from some orange yarn I have leftover from a previous project.  Also, if you've never read Connie Willis, let me take this as an opportunity to highly recommend her novels.  (The novellas and short stories are more of a mixed bag.)

The Boxes: Chapter 3

The Fourth Use.  Well, once I get an idea I really push it to the max.  I designed The Boxes to easily come apart knowing they would have more uses.  Check out this post about The Boxes:  Chapter 2.  Our friend requested some spice racks.  She keeps her herbs and spices in mason jars, and she has a lot of them.  I was once again excited for a project.

The stock list came together pretty easily.  The new design called for 18"x24"x4" open box with handles on the side for easy picking up.  Wood, screws and handles all came from the previous projects.

I cut the pieces to length first and then sanded them well.  Perfect corners don't matter with this kind of thing, so I rounded everything.  I'm also not planning on putting a finish on the box, so smooth edges and faces are pretty important.

Next, I drilled holes and screwed it together.  Not too epic, but it was a pretty easy project altogether.  It was fun, and nice to work on something for a friend.

The Boxes: Chapter 2

The Third Use.  Remember the boxes I made for our wedding?  Me either... Here is a link:  The Boxes.  Those boxes were made with recycled pallets, giving that wood a second life.  That wood however, was always intended to have a third life.  After our wedding, we had many mementos including beautiful wedding cards that people had given us, a few handmade gifts, and the ropes we had used to "tie the knot."  We didn't want to loose track of those items, but had no place to put them, so I devised a project!  I thought I could reuse that wood from the boxes and make a Wedding Box.  Some of those pallets were made out of oak after all, and it would look quite nice.  

My design involved a 12"x12"x6" wood box, with a picture frame hinged top.  The picture frame would hold some dried flowers from our arrangements. 

The materials were fairly easy to find and included recycled pallet wood, reused screws, some glass from an old frame we found on the side of the road (it was in front of our apartment...one of our neighbors was throwing it out), and some new hinges.  We tried to find small used hinges, but craigslist just couldn't come through this time.

The execution was pretty simple.  I started by sanding the old pallet wood with some 80 grit sand paper on a belt sander.  I more or less squared up the pieces using a joiner and a table saw, and then cut them to size.  Next, I assembled them with a small finish nail gun, and joined two square boxes vertically with some pine blocks and screws.

The top was slightly more complicated.  I cut a piece of pine pallet wood so it measured 3/4"x1" and cut a 1/4" x 1/4" pocket for the glass to sit in.  I then cut the pieces I needed to size at a 45 degree angle so that they would join in a square like a picture frame.  The pieces were glued and nailed.  

The glass was very tricky.  I disassembled the large picture frame that it came in and carefully removed the two foot square piece of glass.  It obviously would have to be cut down to fit in my smaller frame.  The goal was to cut two 12"x12" pieces to create a sandwich for the flowers.  Cutting the glass involved drawing a line with a black marker and placing a ruler along that line.  I scored it with a rolling glass cutter, then put a skinny piece of wood under the score and pushed down on either side to snap it.  It worked!

Stephanie and I arranged the flowers between the glass, and then I placed it in the frame.  The glass is held in with window points, typically used for old single pane windows.

The result is pure magic... Well, maybe that's overstating it, but it does look nice.  We recently got some hinges and the box is now complete!  The flowers look great and at a glance you can see some of the items inside.  Maybe we will open it up on some future anniversary and remember the little things.

Homemade English Muffins

For a little over a decade now, I've eaten basically the same thing for breakfast every morning: black tea, Greek yogurt, and two English muffins, toasted and with butter.  What can I say, I'm a creature of habit!  

The Greek yogurt at least comes in a container that's readily recyclable, and I've finally found a company, Arbor Teas (not an affiliate link, though if they're reading this and want to give us money...) that offers loose-leaf tea in fully backyard-compostable packaging--yay!  

The best muffins I've made.

I'm not aware, though, of any company that sells English muffins without a plastic bag and cardboard that's almost certainly coated with something (plastic, wax) that's not really recyclable or compostable.  So, inspired by one of Nate's friends who tried making her own English muffins at home, I embarked on a journey to, first, find the perfect recipe and, second, perfect my ability to follow it.

After trying several recipes, the one from America's Test Kitchen was the winner.  (I think I found it in their Cook It in Cast Iron cookbook at the library, but I'm honestly not positive.)  It offered the best chance for actual nooks and crannies (the other recipes I tried gave me a more textured bread, but not quite nooks and crannies), and it avoided the beeriness that I found in some other recipes that called for longer rising times.

I've modified the recipe to accommodate some whole wheat flour, adding a little extra water to make up for the denser wheat flour.  I'll substitute a whole cup of white whole wheat flour or half a cup of regular whole wheat flour for an equivalent amount of bread flour.  This gives a nuttier taste and offers a (slightly) healthier final product.  

I also use cream instead of whole milk--this consistently gives me English muffins that stay moist for longer, an essential quality for homemade bread, which tends to dry out quickly.  (What do they add to store-bought bread that prevents this from happening?  It can't be good, whatever it is.)  Whether or not you use any wheat flour, I strongly suggest substituting cream (heavy or light, half and half would probably do) for the milk.  Don't even think about using skim milk or low-fat.  It just won't be good, and since these take four hours, it's worth it to use the right ingredients for the job.  Cream is essential, and it keeps practically forever in the fridge.  (Now if only I could find a readily available brand of cream that comes in a recyclable package instead of those horrific, unrecyclable cartons.  It's the one ingredient I add with totally irredeemable packaging.)

The rising is where things get the most tricky, and this is where I'm still working on my technique.  Let them rise too long, and they'll fall in and deflate, resulting in fewer nooks and crannies, though they'll still be tasty and fine for toast, which is the only right way to eat English muffins, after all.  Don't let them rise enough, and they'll also not have the nooks and crannies so key to English muffins, though, again, they'll be serviceable.  I've taken to preheating the oven to the lowest setting (170 degrees F in our case), then shutting it off, letting some heat escape, and placing the dough inside to rise.  I think the second rise is more essential to good texture: you've got to stop before they start to deflate.  Check after 45 minutes for sure.  But I haven't yet made anything inedible, and with each bake, I'm improving my intuitive sense of when the dough looks ready to cook.  The two photos below show what happens when I let the dough rise too long (overproofing, in baking parlance).

overproofed dough = flatter texture

Normally, they should be far puffier, like rolls.

Ultimately, the homemade English muffins have a bunch of benefits that store-bought just can't offer.
1) They taste better than store-bought, even if they don't always have quite the same nooks and crannies.
2) I'm avoiding the waste from the English muffin packaging.
3) I'm saving a bunch of money.  (I'm something of an English muffin snob, and the name-brand I liked, in its whole wheat variety, was running me about $8 per week, which ends up totaling to over $400 per year on English muffins.  I haven't yet done the math, but I'm pretty sure the ingredients I use cost less than $8 per week.)
4) I know exactly what goes into my English muffins, and it doesn't include any preservatives or weird chemicals.  (While I've never been super concerned about additives, listening to this book made me more aware of considering the potential effects of what I put into my body.  Plus, it was a great book.  You can check out my book blog if you want to know more about what I'm reading.)

English muffins are just one of many items that I'd never considered cooking for myself until I met Nate, who is more daring in the kitchen than I am.  We'll be posting lots more about our various home-cooked recipes in the future, and I hope some of you might be inspired to try cooking something that you didn't know you could make at home.  Reduce packaging, save money, and have a tastier product: not perfect, but definitely better!

The baked English muffins should be puffy.

Look at the nooks!

The Boxes

Creativity.  I have found in my life that creativity is one of the most valuable commodities when attempting any venture.  Thinking outside the box can mean the difference between accepting things the way they are and designing a way around it.  We got married this past October and, due to the pandemic, many things about our celebration had to change.  We had far fewer people (eight, including us), didn't require a bartender (because we had so few people, and that's just awkward), and we certainly didn't need a venue with a hundred-person capacity.

We adapted.  We rented a house instead of a hall, went to a local flower shop to buy our flowers.   All of our favors were purchased within 5 minutes of the rental house and were locally made.  The most enjoyable part however, was the making of the boxes.  We decided that, during our ceremony, we would like to be surrounded by mums.  That's right... the flower, not the mothers, though we were also grateful to be surrounded by both of ours.

Anyway, I got this idea to create some wooden boxes to put some of the flowers on in order to elevate them.  The boxes were just for show and would therefore be temporary, so we didn't want to buy something and be stuck with it later.  I decided to use pallet wood for the project.  A friend of ours also wanted some spice boxes made of pallet wood, so I decided that the boxes could have a third life after our ceremony.

Finding pallets is pretty simple.  Our friend works for a company that ships and receives items that come on pallets, and there was a pile in the back yard of their lot.  However, Craigslist is also full of them.  You might also notice them sitting outside a building; if you call, they'd likely allow you to take them.  They are free and, with some (serious) effort, will come apart.  They are typically made with pine wood, but I also found some made of maple and oak.  Pallets must be strong and durable because they are often used multiple times and over long stretches of time.  The nails are commonly stainless steel for this reason.

Taking the pallets apart was very difficult.  I used a hammer and flat bar to pry the slats off of the runners, and those stainless steel nails really hold on tight.  Ear muffs are essential because hitting a flat bar with a hammer will make your ears ring for days.  All in all, I used eight pallets for my project.  The runners were used for the tops and bottoms as they were made out of 1" - 1 1/2" thick pieces of pine or maple, and the slats were used for the verticals around the box.

Nothing is square, so I elected to spread the slats out.  It gave the final product a nice look, almost like an apple crate.  Everything was screwed together to facilitate easy disassembly later.

In the end, the boxes came out great.  They took an awful lot of effort but used very little in the way of new material.  Even the screws were left over from a previous project and will be used again after disassembly.

Vegetable Broth

Flavor.  It’s what many of us forget about when cooking a weeknight meal on a tight schedule or a tight budget.  I’m not talking about cooking for some special occasion (though please refer back to this post when you do).  I’m talking about the everyday rice and veggies or slow cooker soup you are going to eat all week for lunch.  They aren’t fancy meals, but they get the job done. 

This post is about stock--more specifically, vegetable stock.  Vegetable broth can add a new dimension to your cooking by simply using it in place of water.  Stock is available at the grocery store, but it comes packaged in one of the worst containers possible.  It is some kind of paper/plastic/foil box that is not recyclable, compostable, or any version in between.  It cannot be taken apart easily to recycle its component parts, so it goes to landfill every time.

The answer, of course, is to make it yourself.  I understand time is a factor, but we have discovered a couple of simple ways to make it that really couldn’t be easier or cheaper.

It all starts when you are cutting up an onion, or carrots, or zucchini, or tomatoes, or whatever vegetables you are cooking with.  Dedicate a container or four (we use old takeout containers) and keep them in the freezer.  Add your scraps to the container every time you cut up a vegetable.  If there are rotten bits, don’t save those, just compost them.  Over time, you will amass lots of frozen scraps that can be used directly for your vegetable stock.

The process is simple and does not require many tools.  I recommend a large pot, a glass container with a pour spout, a strainer, and a couple of mason jars with lids. 

Stove Top

1. I start by pulling my frozen veggie scraps out of the freezer and finding some onion and carrot.  You can also use celery at this point, but we don’t care for it and don’t usually have any on hand. 
2. Add the onions and the carrots to the pot with a small amount of your oil of choice.  Let that heat up and sizzle for a little while.  You will get a boost of flavor from the onions, and a bit of sweetness from the carrots.  Basically, this is the same starting point for most broth-based soups. 
3. Give the onions and carrots about 3 or 4 minutes and then add half of the total water.  We have an 8 cup pot, so I add 4 cups of water at this point. 
4. 
   Next, add more frozen vegetables.  A mix of things is nice.  Try not to add more than 20% bitter items like carrot tops, kale cuttings, broccoli stems, etc.
5. Add the remaining 4 cups of water.  Cover the pot and bring it just to a boil, then turn the heat down to simmer.
6. Let the concoction simmer for about 40 minutes to an hour and then turn off the burner.  I just let it sit and cool a bit.  Honestly, I let it sit until I have about 10 minutes to spare during my work day.
7. Last, I strain the newly made stock into the glass container with the pour spout, and distribute the stock among the mason jars I set up previously. 

Slow Cooker

1. 
   Sauté onion and carrot in a frying pan with a little oil for 3-4 minutes.  We want to release the flavor in the onion and sweetness in the carrot.   
2. Add the sautéed onion and carrot into the slow cooker and add water to fill the basin ¾ of the way.
3. Finally add the rest of the vegetable scraps from your container, making sure to add only about 20% bitter items.
4. Turn the slow cooker on high for about 4 hours.
5. Last, strain the newly made stock into the glass container with the pour spout, and distribute the stock among the mason jars previously set up. 

We use the stock to make everything from soups to risotto to plain rice.  We even tried it at thanksgiving for the stuffing.  It is an easy way to recycle your vegetable scraps one more time before composting them. 

Anyway, we got this recipe (roughly) from a cookbook called Thug Kitchen.  (We realized we had no idea who the authors were, and, when looking, found out they were a white couple from L.A., which was not what we had assumed.  Check out this excellent essay by Bryant Terry, a Black food advocate, for his take on this misrepresentation.)¹

 

1. https://www.cnn.com/2014/10/10/living/thug-kitchen-controversy-eatocracy/index.html

Candle Making 101

Reuse.  It’s a clear tenet of the Zero Waste movement.  Number three on the list according to Bea Johnson of Zero Waste Home,¹ it is one way to reduce our material footprint, as well as our financial output.  My wife and I are always looking for ways to be more frugal and sustainable…  Let’s be honest, I was bored and needed a project.

We like to burn taper candles in these great hand-painted holders that we picked up at a local second-hand store.  It adds some ambiance to our nightly meals and gives off a softer light after a long day at work with fluorescents overhead.  (Or, these days, it makes a nice change of pace from our regular lightbulbs!)

So, with some wire and a recycled aluminum can, I constructed (we’ll use that term loosely) a double boiler.  I wrapped some wire around the top of the can as a handle with which to pick up the hot can and dump the melted wax into the reused glass vessels.  Next, I added the wax to be melted to the aluminum can.  The wax was chosen for its color (red and blue and white make raspberry?) The next part is pretty easy, just put some water in a pot and get the water hot.  I recommend medium heat so that the water doesn’t actually boil. Place the aluminum can filled with wax into the hot water and wait.  If you are tempted to turn the heat up because you are impatient like me, use this time to practice poise.  Once the wax is all melted, just use a pair of pliars…  during the writing of this post, I realized I’ve never before spelled the word pliears?…  nope, still wrong.

Take two:  Once the wax is all melted, just use a pair of pliers to pick it up by the wire and gently pour the melted wax into a prepared vessel.  In this case, I used an old candle holder; it’s ideal because the glass is able to take some heat.

I also created my own wicks.  I had some cotton string, and dipped it in the wax to pre-coat it.  I’m sure I’ll improve the technique as I do this more.  Here is a great article about making wicks with cotton string.²  I held the wicks up with a contraption I made with K’nex because I’m a child and my mother recently found them in the attic and bestowed them to me.  Good thing because I literally use them all the time…

This project was a lot of fun and, after lighting the candles, they do work!  They are not perfect.  The first pouring of the wax hardened with a huge hole in the middle and required more research.  Here is a good tip: “Reserve some of the wax.”³ This will finish off the candle. 

From a sustainability perspective, we want to be careful too.  Yes, we are reusing the wax from old candles, but it took energy from our stove top to re-create them.  It took new cotton string, and that string is not organic, or regenerative organic.  We think it is important to talk about these points and do better when purchasing cotton string next time.  Some day we will have solar panels on our roof, and therefore take care of the energy problem. 

So, in the end, these candles are better, but admittedly not perfect.

Sources: 

1.     1.    https://zerowastehome.com/

2.     2.   http://www.sewhistorically.com/how-to-make-diy-candle-wicks-with-cotton-string/

3.     3.   https://feltmagnet.com/crafts/CandlesMakeANewCandleFromLeftOverCandleStubs

      2/7/2021 Update:

      Well, the wicks fell over.  After burning the candles down a bit, the wicks did not have enough support from the surrounding wax to stand up straight, and they fell over and put themselves out.  Above, I reference the sewhistorically.com blog which gives some alternatives for homemade wick design.  Basically, you boil some water, add salt and the cotton string.  The blog says to dry them overnight, but I'm impatient when it comes to these projects so I heated up the oven to 375 deg. and they were done in 45 seconds... possibly a lower temperature would have been more appropriate, but as I said, I'm impatient. 

Anyway, the wicks now stand up very straight and stay that way throughout the candle burn.  That said, they got kind of smoky because the string is pretty thick and I used iodized salt (maybe sea salt is better?)

In the end, better, but still not perfect.  I'll probably continue to refine my process so check back sometime!