Wednesday, October 28, 2009

Autumn treats

These are a couple of my favorite treats I love to make in the fall...

Vegan pumpkin spice muffins

I love these because there is no oil or butter in them--just pumpkin, spices, and flour!

2 c. whole wheat pastry flour
1/2 c. vegan cane sugar (has great taste)
1 T. baking powder
1/2 ts. baking soda
1/2 ts. salt
1/2 ts. cinnamon (I throw in a little more)
1/4 ts. nutmeg (again a little more)
1 15 oz can of organic pumpkin
unsweetened coconut*

Mix all together and put in muffin tin and bake for 25-30 min. at 375 degrees.
*I wondered how coconut would taste added to the muffins, so I tried it for the first time...I sprinkled coconut on top of each muffin before I put them in the oven. It added a little bit of yummy sweetness. It turned out awesome!


Vegan banana bread

1/2 c. vegan butter
1 c. vegan cane sugar
1/3 c. + 1 T egg replacer
3 bananas
2 c. whole wheat pastry flour
1 tsp. baking soda
1 tsp. vanilla
1/2 tsp. cinnamon

Mix all wet ingredients together. Sift dry ingredients separately and then add to wet mix and pour in loaf pan. Bake for 1 hour at 350 degrees.
Enjoy!

Autumn bliss















Wednesday, October 21, 2009

Second Snow

Don't worry, I wont keep this up. But since we are only three weeks into October I thought it would be worth mentioning again.

About half an inch of crusty, heavy snow flattens the grass and arcs weak branches under its weight. On certain trees who have managed to retain their leaves, when the snow piles up on one of the dangling ornaments of past life, it falls with an icy thud. The roads, however, are only wet and glossy from the snow. Im surprised it is sticking at all. Two days ago we had the windows open and people walked the streets in shorts and t-shirts, enjoying a daytime high that reached 89. The last snow was reduced to a fuzzy memory and the future was bright. Over the last week we had a couple days of dense fog that was reminiscent of Walt Whitman's opening lines to his poem, "To Autumn," reading, "Season of mists and mellow fruitfulness/close bosom friend of the maturing sun/conspiring with him how to load and bless/with fruit the vines that round the thatch eves run." And yesterday as I rode my bike home from school, a northern wind blew and raked leaves across streets, knocked the weakest links from trees and chilled my fingers to the bone. By the time I had arrives home, a blanket of fog and whirling mist shrouded the city, walling off one city block from the other.

The sunny days and frequent wet weather of autumn make Whitman's lines reality. It does feel like the sun and the mists become bosom buddies during this time of the year, taking shifts to delight to those who enjoy their handiwork.

So, until we actually have a real "snow" that causes horns to honk and tires to slip, closes schools and frustrates every living being in Denver, I will keep it to myself, enjoying the flurries in the confines of a small nook just off our kitchen.

Saturday, October 10, 2009

First Snow

Many in Denver believe Fall is over. Three days ago the sun was out and daytime highs were in the sixties or seventies. The trees still had their leaves, some of which were green and others tinged bright colors by the waning light and chilly nights. That ended, one might say, this morning. The temperature is 17 F and a dusting of snow clings to grass and rooftops. It is snowing as I write and is supposed to keep up until noon. The high wont get warmer than 32 forcing people to either stay inside and enjoy it, put themselves to some domestic pleasures or grit and bear the wind and snow outside. Those brave people are martyrs and the most bitter souls in the city. They are the Winter naysayers and think not of Nature as whimsical and fun, but as a god whose sole objective is to make their lives better. They say Fall is dead.

Denver is one of Americas "skinniest" cities and they boast of their "320 days of sunshine" a year. Though the former is not an exaggeration, the latter surely is. Nonetheless, people live here because being outside is cherished and utilized to its fullest. They don't live here to be forced to endure inclement weather. So when Nature ushers in an "early" snowfall, or a random cloud in June that sprinkles the barren desert floor with needed rain, the people send up a wail of mourning and strident complaints. "I was going to go jogging today. But I can't do that in the rain!" As the person says this the sun is actually shining through many fractures in over head clouds and a few drops splat on the ground around you. But what I can't seem to get over is how people interact with things beyond their control. And, if say Nature did take requests, the world would be a parched dirt clod with a myriad of nicely paved jogging trails -at least for the majority of suburban America.

Thankfully, Nature doesn't give a damn about what people want or think -including me. If it were up to me there would be a global freezing and everyone would need to dig tunnels from their front doors through snow, get on their sleigh and go where they needed. I'd be a lonely man. Instead I try to take this all worth a grain of salt. Roll with it. Endure heat waves and no rain, which only make a rainy day and snow flurries that much more enjoyable.

Fall is not over. The naysayers lack foresight. If they had it they would understand that tomorrow is forecasting clear skies and "above average" temperatures. All next week is in the seventies again. The trees will bask in the remaining days of Autumn and the snow will most likely not return until sometime in November. But, like C.S. Lewis commented on humanities need to bitch and moan, "we'd rather have the itch than not be able to scratch." Let them itch. I'm going to enjoy my coffee and stare into a dynamic sheet of white.