Pastor Annette's Blog
"OF ALL THE THINGS GOD HAS SHOWN ME, I CAN SPEAK BUT A LITTLE WORD NOT MORE THAN A HONEYBEE CAN CARRY AWAY ON ITS FOOT FROM AN OVERFLOWING JAR."
~ MECHTHILD OF MAGDEBURG, 13TH CENTURY MYSTIC |
"OF ALL THE THINGS GOD HAS SHOWN ME, I CAN SPEAK BUT A LITTLE WORD NOT MORE THAN A HONEYBEE CAN CARRY AWAY ON ITS FOOT FROM AN OVERFLOWING JAR."
~ MECHTHILD OF MAGDEBURG, 13TH CENTURY MYSTIC |
July 23, 2024 Beloved: I usually attach the recipe like an afterthought but this one was soooo good. Only now I’m wondering if it was the food or that moment in time that was so satisfying. Marco Polo, the Uyghur (pronounced Wee-Gur) restaurant on Grant Street was our original plan but it was closed yesterday so we decided to come home and cook. I had just saved this newspaper recipe and between my freezer, fridge and garden, we had everything to make it, with the adjustments noted in parentheses (in the recipe below). The largest adjustment being I don’t own a grill. And by we, I mean my son Ben. He’s the best kind of cook, with the brain of a scientist, the knife skills of a sous chef and the heart of a home cook. The most unpretentious foodie ever, he just loves to feed people good food. We are of one mind about fresh corn - that frozen is cheaper, faster and more consistently better tasting. We throw extra things that sound good to us. Cilantro and jalapeno almost always sound good to us. Mostly I fetched things from the garden, cleaned up behind him and listened to him talk: about the presidential election, stories about his friends in DC, his impending move to New York. I’ve been listening to him talk for a long, long time. Only during his Star Wars phase, around age five or six, did I sometimes get the teensiest bit antsy with his enthusiasm for all things Tatooine. Then I’d say, Oh darn, Ben, my shields are up. I can’t hear you, and I’d catch a little break. Otherwise, listening to him talk has been one of life’s most precious gifts to me. As much fun as having little kids was, I love the amazing grownups they have become. They are good people: good to themselves, good to each other, good to their friends and good to people in need they come across. They care about the world and do good work in it. They have always been sweet to me, but especially these last two years, their goodness has poured like honey on my heart,* enabling me to carry on in their good company and light. I’ll So, maybe this is the best chicken ever, or maybe it is just average. But good company makes average meals amazing, don’t you know. If you don’t make this, make something. Or order in. Then gather with some people you love around a table someplace quiet with nothing else to do but eat and talk and listen. See if it isn’t the best thing you’ve tasted in forever. ~ peace & prayers, pastor annette *Honey on my heart is a saying I picked up from Dalia Owino years ago, for being deeply relieved by the kindness of others. Another, “_______ just burns my brain,” from Dalia’s niece Mary Elizabeth, in reference to Algebra II, or anything that makes you think so hard your head aches. Grilled Chicken Thighs and Corn With Lime-Basil Butter By Clare de Boer * NYT Cooking * Published July 12, 2024 * Yield:4 servings
Step 1 ~ Place the chicken thighs in a large bowl and season with the garlic, olive oil, 1 ¾ teaspoons salt and juice of 1 lime. Toss to coat. Let marinate at room temperature while the grill heats up or, ideally, refrigerate, covered, overnight. (Yeah, we didn’t marinate - but agreed it would have improved it.) Step 2 ~ To make the lime-basil butter, place the butter, lime zest, ¾ cup basil leaves, ¼ teaspoon salt and 1 teaspoon freshly ground black pepper in a food processor and whizz until basil is chopped and incorporated. Refrigerate overnight or leave out of the fridge if you’re ready to grill. (Nope, not this either - but it’s a great idea if you are the kind who plans ahead.) Step 3 ~ When ready to cook, light the grill to medium-high. If needed, remove the chicken and lime-basil butter from the fridge and place the butter near the grill so it softens. Place the ears of corn on one side of the grill, turning every 3 minutes or so, until cooked through and lightly charred, 10 to 20 minutes total. Pull the corn off the grill and slice off the charred kernels. Place them on a serving platter and top with some of the basil butter. (We did all this in a second skillet, cooking the corn concoction, then adding the butter and getting it all hot and yum.) Step 4 ~ While the corn is cooking and being sliced, place the chicken on the grill flat sides down. Char until it releases from the grates easily, 5 to 7 minutes. Rotate the chicken slightly, without flipping, to get more color on the first side. Pay attention to how the color develops and when areas of the first side become chestnut in color and look delicious, flip the chicken and grill for another 3 to 5 minutes. Continue rotating and flipping every few minutes until the chicken is cooked through. To check if the chicken is cooked, poke a knife into the thickest part of the meat. The juices should run clear and the meat should no longer be translucent. (We seared the chicken stove top then to the oven uncovered to sizzle and bake to 165 degrees. Take out and let it rest a few minutes.) Step 5 ~ Remove the chicken from the grill, slice each thigh in half across its widest part and place slices on top of the corn. Spoon the remaining basil butter on top of the hot chicken and sprinkle over remaining basil leaves, the remaining lime juice and flaky salt. Grind some extra black pepper over the top. (We didn’t slice it. We plated it from the stove with a layer of corn, then a chicken thigh, chopped cilantro, salt and pepper. Sliced tomatoes on the side) Note: The corn is great all on its own - double or triple the amount for awesome potluck.
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I never learned of what E. was so afraid. She actually likes most bugs, but I reckon the name BugMan sounds pretty villainous to her ears.** And she’s hardly alone in her terror of things that sound true. I can barely read the news these days, for the anxiety churned in me. The mendacity and violence terrorizing our culture are difficult to reject in favor of the life of hope and peace and service offered by our faith. Giving in to the paralysis of fear is just easier sometimes, and it’s always a choice, of course. But never a solution, especially for we who claim our being in Christ (Ephesians 1:3-14). When the news sends us into panic, just like the toddler with her grandmother, we can cling to the promises and presence of God, whose kingdom never fails. Our primary citizenship is in this kingdom where power’s purpose is service to the least among us and liberty reigns for everyone all the time. In this kingdom all the faith and hope and courage we will ever need is stockpiled, not so that we won’t be afraid, no, so we can help. So that when we read the news, we read it with the lament appropriate to a world coming undone, with the faith that our lives are secure in the will of God for humanity, with the hope of a future not determined by the fickle politics and powers of this world and with the courage of people who have nothing in this world to fear. We are victims of nothing or nobody this side of heaven, friends. We have everything we need to work for the good and right and decent way of life God intends for all creation, humanity most of all. The way this world is need not be the way this world continues. Not if people with the heart and mind of Christ can take hold of ourselves and the faith we already claim. I pray this week is kind to you and you find opportunities to love your neighbor, hugely. ~ peace & prayers, pastor annette
July 9, 2024
Beloved: The popcorn ceiling of my garage is falling down in bits and flakes, some flakes as big lettuce leaves. But does all that paint land on the floor? Oh no, it lands on the garage door when it’s open and sheds onto my blacktop driveway as it closes. Then, if I’m really lucky, it rains . . . or it’s just extra humid overnight. Hardly once has it been dry enough to be swept up when I try to sweep it up. I end up using the hose and spraying it away, knowing full well it is probably poisoning our water. Somewhere in her writing, Madeleine L’Engle said having a house is like having an extra child, it’s always begging for something. Mine doesn’t beg for much but this garage situation is sitting on my nerves lately. I haven’t painted a ceiling in practically forever; twenty years is practically forever, right? And you know as well as I do that once I paint the ceiling, I’ll have to paint the walls, since they look worse than the ceiling except for the islands with no popcorn texture. Sigh . . . But July is far too hot right now for such a project. Maybe in the fall. Maybe I can rustle some teenage nieces and nephews in need of a little spending money. I’ll buy one of those long poles for twist-on paint scrapers and rollers. And ceiling paint, the kind that starts out pink so I can see what ceiling the new paint has already touched. I'll borrow a shop-vac and a ladder, things I don’t own nor want to and then some early Saturday when my volunteers arrive, I’ll feed them doughnuts before we lug everything inside my garage outside to my driveway. I’ll set one of them to scraping down the still stuck popcorn, while the others dust, spackle and sand the walls. One of them will run that shop-vac continuously until not a speck of paint dust remains. Finally, we will put on new paint and, assuming no one gets hurt, we might be done by dark. I could also hire someone, I suppose. I know a really, really good painter. She has all her own equipment and she never makes a mess. She shows up, she paints and leaves the space better than it was in every way. I’m talking myself out of my first idea and into my second as I type the words. Why would I put myself and my sweet family through what a professional can accomplish better in less than half the time with far less than half the stress and drama? How many times do I do similarly in situations far removed from home repair – that is, imagine that I can do myself what I am without the resources or the skill set to accomplish? Or expect from others what they are not really in a place to give, but will do their best out of loyalty or obligation? Often, it comes down to what we think we can and can’t afford. A professional painter costs money. No doubt I will have to plan a few months in advance to pay her. But expectations of our family and friends carry costs as well, some too high to pay over projects as trivial as paint flakes on my driveway. Enough said, I’ve decided. The popcorn will flake and fall until I can pay the painter. By then there may be no popcorn left to scrape and I’ll do a better job getting outside to sweep before the dew turns the flakes to goo. And to the inside work on my head and heart, I’ll pay better attention too. I’ll tend to my expectations of myself and others with the humility and honesty they deserve, counting people most important of all. I pray you know yourself beloved and treat yourself as gently as you can this day. ~ peace & prayers, pastor annette Hearty Easy Slaw ~ Pastor Annette Salad Ingredients
July 2, 2024
Beloved: My neighbor just two doors down is in her nineties and needed to see the damage, so her son pushed her wheelchair down the street so she could take a look and talk to neighbors who were out. I have lived here 18 months and met her for the first time. Crises have that effect on neighborhoods, the urge to check on others, to see if they’re okay, to find out what help they need. Everyone’s power is back on. The neighborhood pool has reopened. Businesses are doing business. Broken trees are the main damage in my neighborhood, though some roofs are sporting bright red Tyvek until contractors can get to them. Contractors and tree companies will have a good 2024, as they are all completely covered up, as my dad used to say when he had more work than he could handle. Internet service took longer for some, my daughter included. Her job is entirely online, and she had to scramble for a couple of days to find a place to work. But we have lights, groceries, communications, passable roads and necessary services, after just a week of feeling a little frantic and out of sorts. Leaving me aware once more of the profoundly privileged place we occupy on this planet. Having services restored only days after such a massive storm is beyond imagination for a good many people in this world. Others exist in perpetual destruction and deprivation, driven not by wind and rain but by war and politics. War and politics born of fear armed with great power deprives far more people than nature ever does – of the most basic human needs: air and water, food and shelter, as well as all the joys of our existence such as life in a neighborhood. Living in a certain spot on a certain street, among people we know and who know us, whom we watch out for and who watch out for us is a privilege, I would even say a gift of God, intended for us all. The Bible word is fellowship. The worldly word is neighbors, also a Bible word, and I consider it among the very best of words, the very best of life. And one of the greatest losses we can lose, however it gets lost. So be grateful for your neighbors. Do something for them if you can. Even better, meet one whose name you don’t know. I pray this beautiful day treats you and your whole neighborhood kindly. ~peace & prayers, pastor annette |
I write a Tuesday morning devotional to members and friends of UBC. It is also posted here.
Enjoy! Pastor Annette Copyright
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December 2024
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