Halibut are actually large flounder, harvested on this Coast from Oregon to the Bering Sea.  The Pacific halibut, Hippoglossus stenolepis (hippos of the sea), grow to 500 pounds, but usually are caught at weights up to 10 pounds.  The halibut is a peculiar two-toned flat diamond-shaped spectacle with an underside of pearly white.  The upper side is a dark grey with patches of lighter grey and black.  It’s face – well, shall we say, it is not a handsome fish by any stretch of the imagination…

A young halibut begins life in an upright position with eyes on both sides of their head.  When they are about an inch long, the left eye migrates over the snout to the right side of the head, and the color of the left side fades.  In the process, the mouth takes on a bizarre twist.  When approximately six months old, they settle to the sea floor, where the protective coloring on their “eyed” side effectively camouflages them.

Halibut has been an important food source for Northwest Native Americans for thousands of years accompanied by the most wonderful legends.  As the story goes, long ago, when the Raven was performing the miracle of making the creatures of the universe, his work made him tired and hungry.  He stopped to do a little fishing, catching a curious fish, which he wished to keep fresh so he did not kill it.  How to keep the fish from flapping around and probably leaping out of the canoe puzzled him, so he went ashore to the spruce trees, taking some of the gum from their bark.  This he fashioned into a woman, commanding her to sit on the fish he had caught, promising her part of it when he was through fishing.  As the day was hot, with the sun high, he wanted to get a good mess of fish as soon as possible.  When finished, he called the woman but in response heard only a small, feeble voice and upon locating the source of the voice, he found that a sticky pitch had taken her place.  He could not eat a fish that was covered with pitch and had to throw it overboard.  Burnt by hot pitch, this is why the halibut skin is dark on the top side, white on the under side, and flat with misplaced pop-eyes by being sat upon by the woman.

What the halibut may lack in beauty, it makes up in strength.  A creature of extraordinary vitality and a strong fighter, there are some fabulous stories of epic struggles over the hauling in, gaffing, and clubbing of this giant fish.  At one time, deep-sea fishermen who opted to pursue the mighty halibut engaged in real combat, risking capsize and loss of their boats.

I would have to say, for any number of reasons, this spectacular fish has realized a definite change in fortunes from its once poor reputation of long ago and, indeed, now holds a great respect in most every arena, commanding a fair price and enjoying a significant demand.

We here in the Pacific Northwest are getting antsy for true Spring weather on a consistent basis.  Mother Nature teases, tempts, and taunts with a pleasant sunny day here and there but we want more!  We want to barbeque.  Whenever we feel like it!

Few can resist the intoxicating and seductive aroma of grilling food.  An effortless way to entertain, involving minimal clean-up, the barbeque becomes the center of attention, making the meal more of an event.  In my mind, there is simply nothing more satisfying than enjoying a pre-meal libation with friends at sunset with the evening meal sizzling on the grill.  This meal is even better if some thought went into it…

Marinades make it possible for you to treat yourself to a fabulous feast that celebrates, at the very least, the intention of living life in balance.  Someday, surely.  Actually, tomorrow or – even later today!  That is because one of waiting’s wondrous secrets is learning to enjoy stewing in your own juices:  both creative and culinary!  In theory, I marinate ideas all the time.  I have learned that if an idea is promising, it will be brilliant after I have given it some time.  The same principal can apply to dinner…

Experimentation is what makes marinades so much fun once you understand that every marinade is made up of three equally important components:  acid, oil, and aromatics.  The first ingredient, acid, such as wine, vinegar, lemon, or even yogurt, acts as a softening agent for the meat or fish.  Softening speeds up cooking, but since moisture is lost, oil comes into play as the second ingredient.  Finally, aromatics give the marinade flavor, fragrance, and unique character.  Aromatics can include anything from fresh or dried spices and vegetables to liqueurs.

Marinade should be combined with meat or fish in a non-reactive sealed container – not metal if possible and definitely not aluminum or cast iron.  I like zip-loc bags as you can turn them often, ensuring that all surfaces are sufficiently coated.  Always refrigerate the container and be sure to discard marinade when finished; never reuse.

A dining experience is remembered not only for of the quality of the food, but also for the atmosphere.  Make it smell good, make it pretty.  Enjoy!

A widely celebrated Spring rite is the official opening day of the boating season.  Typically held the first weekend in May, yacht clubs everywhere participate in this annual event.  Here in the San Juan Islands, San Juan Island Yacht Club, Orcas Island Yacht Club, and Lopez Island Yacht Club sponsor parades, picnics, dock parties, boat tours, and sometimes even sailboat races.

When I was growing up, the only truly organized Opening Day festivities here in the Pacific Northwest were held in Seattle.  I have vivid recall of the year 1963 when my Father was Commodore of Tacoma Yacht Club.  We took our sparkling clean and polished boat to Seattle the week before, fully stocked with anything and everything we could possibly ever need for spontaneous entertaining.  My sisters and I had our navy blue blazers, perfectly pressed white skirts (NOT Winter white), white shoes, black belts and ties – the “uniform of the day”.  We were ready.

However, nothing could have prepared me for the magnitude of this event.  The boats, the people, the blue blazers, the crew uniforms, the color, the activity, the fanfare – the order of it all.  The tradition.

In this society of ours, which often seems broadly skeptical about the value of tradition, it is a wonderful thing for families now in their third and even fourth generations warmly embracing the positive benefits tradition can actually carry, especially within the yachting community.  The wide range of ages, from the young to the not so young, further illustrates the axiomatic:  all these people, in one way or another, love the sea.

Recently, a very handsome seagull has adopted me. He shows up at regular times starting at first light. He sits patiently in the water in front of my house staring at me until I give in and feed him some stale bread. I have named him Sam.

Several weeks after meeting my new friend, his brother Steve showed up. They have such a comical routine. Sam does his sitting/staring routine and then the minute I approach the shoreline, seemingly out of nowhere, Steve swoops in.

I know this may sound silly to anyone who did not grow up on the water in the Pacific Northwest, but these two gulls really do give me such joy.

Gulls typically show considerable variation in color, and some seasonal changes in plumage which causes confusion in identifying species, but I am not hung up on that. All are web-footed and swim readily; they show little skill in diving, however, and the living fish they prey upon are chiefly the kind which come near the surface of the water such as herring. On the wing, they show perfect ease, with remarkable quickness and cleverness in their maneuvering, especially in the wind. It is also certain they are capable of long flights.

Gulls are markedly gregarious, and this instinct is especially in evidence during the breeding season, when several species may congregate on favorite nesting ledges to the number of thousands, if not millions. Their nests are composed usually of seaweeds and moss.

As sea scavengers, they welcome as food dead fish and garbage. Their services in cleaning up such material are not to be regarded lightly…

When I say this simple phrase to my dog, Romeo, he goes nuts. He nudges his leash stashed by the front door and dances around the living room, pawing at me. Dogs really are so easily pleased.

When I lived on Bainbridge, I regularly walked three miles with my dog every single morning. Within the past couple years here on San Juan Island, I have taken this up again and honestly don’t have a clue why I stopped for a while there.

I don’t approach walking as exercise, but rather for my soul and my body tags along. On my walks, I solve problems. It is a form of meditation. I shift from overdrive into soft time. I quiet the chatter in my head, taking long strides, and concentrate on the slow, steady rhythm of my breath, comforted by interior silence. I look and I listen. I let go of expectations and life unfolds, step by step.

Sometimes I walk up the road lined with old growth fir and madrona. It is not uncommon to encounter deer, fox, and every so often a raccoon. Sometimes my reverie will be broken by birdsong. At this time of year they are very vocal! The greenery and new blossoms are wonderful. I look around, I look ahead. I look up!

Sometimes I walk in town. I greet locals and tourists and meet new doggie friends. There is a great loop from town up Harrison Street and back on Warbass Street with the harbor by my side coming back. This is a favorite as the activity in the harbor is ever-changing.

But, my best walks are on the beach. To find a treasure, to exercise the limbs, and to soothe the soul. To marvel at the sea birds that play against the sky and clouds. To watch the waves. To feel the sun and the wind pressed against my face and to skip from the foam grasping for my feet. To think and reflect.

And no matter how far apart my visits might measure, I am always free to renew an old acquaintance with myself. Calming and centering, one step at a time, I find peace.

One of the most beautiful of all vegetables, the artichoke is actually a perennial in the thistle group of the sunflower family. If left longer on the stem, they would blossom into gorgeous violet-blue flowers measuring seven inches in diameter. What we eat is actually the plant’s flower bud! While the artichoke seems almost armored against intrusion, protected by their own version of barbed wire, behind their spiky leaves and inedible fuzzy choke – beyond this barricade — is the ultimate tasty prize; the sweet and tender heart.

Artichokes are available year-round, but are at their best and most plentiful in April and May. Select only globes that are deep green in color, unblemished, and with a tight leaf formation. They should feel heavy for their size. A good test of freshness is to press the leaves against each other which should produce a squeaking sound. Browning of tips can indicate age, but may also mean frost damage. The small to medium artichokes have the best flavor. To store fresh artichokes, sprinkle them with water and refrigerate in a zip-loc. Do not wash before storing. Artichokes should last a week when properly stored.

To prepare artichokes, wash under cold water. Pull off lower petals and cut off stems. Using stainless kitchen shears, trim the spiky points off the outside leaves. Dip in lemon juice to preserve color. Cook in boiling salted water until done – 30-40 minutes or longer depending on size. Leaves should pull out easily. Once artichokes are cooked and the tangle of hairs known as the choke is removed, a cavity remains that is a natural container for a wide variety of savory fillings – salads, soups or, quite simply, a delightful Hollandaise Sauce. There are countless ways to cook artichokes, many of which were inspired by the Italians.

The artichoke is believed to be a native of the Mediterranean area and the Canary Islands. According to Aegean legend, the first artichoke was a lovely young girl who lived on the island of Zinari. The god, Zeus, was visiting his brother Poseidon when, as he emerged from the sea, he spotted a beautiful young mortal woman. The girl, Cynara by name, did not appear to be frightened by the presence of a god. Zeus seized the opportunity to seduce her and was so pleased with her that he opted to make her a goddess (mistress) in order that she be nearer his home on Olympus. Cynara agreed to the promotion, however grew homesick and escaped back to the world of mortals for a brief visit. Zeus discovered her un-goddess-like behavior and enraged, hurled her back to earth transforming her into the plant we now know as the artichoke.
Well! So much for staying in touch with old friends and family!

Be it an elegant first course, soup, with sauce or without, hot or cold – artichokes are beautiful, delicate, and always a hit.

When I was a little girl, it seemed that my entire fashion world revolved around Easter Sunday – the dress, the patent leather shoes (shined to perfection with Vaseline), the purse, the white gloves – and, the hat! I still have the Immanuel Presbyterian Sunday School group photo as a reminder. Our family went to church and we sometimes had Easter egg hunts, but we always woke up to Easter baskets chock full of brightly decorated eggs. The Easter bunny never missed our house.

Easter is the great Spring rite of family and tradition and it seems to bring out the child in all of us. Of all the symbols associated with Easter it is the egg, the very symbol of fertility and new life, that is the most identifiable. The customs and traditions of using eggs have been associated with Easter for centuries. Originally Easter eggs were painted with bright colors to represent the sunlight of Spring and were used in egg rolling contests or given as gifts by the ancient Greeks, Persians, and Chinese at their Spring festivals. In medieval times, eggs were traditionally given at Easter to the servants. In Germany, children found eggs hidden in their shoes and in baskets. Indeed, we can thank the Germans for the American tradition of Easter baskets and for the idea of coloring and hiding eggs.

The Easter egg is venerable, to be sure. We dip eggs, we dye eggs; we paint them, crayon them; we glue decorative objects to their fragile shells, and then we call them Easter eggs. In many countries the Easter egg is high art incorporating the use of marigold petals, beets, red onion peels, or other elements of the vegetable world to color the eggs. Some are crimson, some are green, and some are decorated lavishly in special patterns of gold and silver. Austrian artists design patterns by fastening ferns and tiny plants around the eggs. After boiling, the plants are removed revealing a striking white pattern. Pysanki eggs – a masterpiece of skill and workmanship – are dipped in successive baths of dye after melted beeswax is applied to the fresh egg.

Decorated Easter eggs really are such a fun part of Easter.

The other morning, I was driving back from the south end of the island after staging a home that I brought on the market last week. While I do love the staging process, it can be somewhat exhausting.

Thoughts were swirling in my head as I drove. My mind was definitely elsewhere, thinking of what I needed to put on my list and/or cross off my list. A mile or so out of American Camp, I was pleasantly surprised to see a rainbow in the distance over Orcas Island. A bit further down the road, suddenly, seemingly out of nowhere, a bluebird flew right in front of my car! I viewed it as a good omen and, oddly, it made me deliriously happy. I actually stopped to watch it make its way to the nesting box out in the field. This delightful series of events reminded me of a song my grandmother used to sing to me – “somewhere over the rainbow… bluebirds sing…”.

Up until the 1930’s, Western Bluebirds were considered to be common in the islands, however, due to a lack of appropriate nesting sites, the population has dwindled dramatically. Apparently, the bluebirds could not compete with the starlings, swallows, and sparrows for natural nesting locations. They were overwhelmed and simply faded away.

Recently, a partnership consisting of the San Juan Preservation Trust, San Juan Islands Audubon Society, American Bird Conservancy, Ecostudies Institute, and partially funded by the Disney Wildlife Conservation Fund, has been working diligently and successfully to re-establish a breeding population for this native songbird. This is a good thing!

The Western Bluebird is known for its bright colors and cheerful warbling. Adult males are bright blue on top and on the throat with an orange breast and sides, a brownish patch on the back, and a grey belly. The adult females sport a duller blue body, wings, and tail, a grey throat and belly, and a dull orange breast – a bit more muted, if you will. Immature bluebirds can be identified by the spots on their chest.

Look for these adorable creatures in open fields and at the edge of woodlands. Stocky with thin, straight bills, and fairly short tails, these small thrushes appear dumpy and round-shouldered, but typically perch upright. Highly social, they usually feed in flocks during the non-breeding season. They can be seen hunting for insects by dropping to the ground from a low perch – be it a tree, fence, or utility line. They also feed on tree berries.

With Spring, San Juan Island is once again seeing nesting bluebirds all over the island. My sincere thanks to those who work to make this possible.

Just when you thought the unpredictable weather would never end and the mere thought of dressing in layer upon layer was enough to make you scream for mercy. Just when you thought the sky was a permanent shade of grey. Just when you were about to give up, threatening to Winter in the tropics next year. Yes, folks – just then. We open our eyes one morning to bright skies, a heavenly fresh breeze, screeching gulls, and the very feel of Spring! The air is charged with energy and contagious enthusiasm. It feels like a celebration!

Spring is a new beginning – a fresh start. A new chapter in life waiting to be written! Indeed, resurrection is this season’s signature and our spirits fairly start to soar! The season of darkness diminishes as the season of light increases.

The enchantments of Springtime in the San Juans are many, to include a heady mix of noise, color, and motion. Meadow wildflowers are just coming into bloom, the greens glow, morels push their way up, and the mating and birthing of all the wild creatures is in full swing. One of the strongest pulse beats of Spring here is migration, drumming its song in whales, salmon, and birds. Be awed by the show!

The return of Spring stirs emotion in us as does no other seasonal event. In spring, the heart leaps, moved by each small sign of rebirth. Cause for celebration, Spring is our reward!

Take a leap of faith and begin this wondrous season by believing. Believe in yourself!

This week brings us St. Patrick’s Day. Not being of Irish descent, this is not a holiday that I typically celebrate, although I must confess in college I scored a fabulous Ralph Lauren Kelly green corduroy blazer on sale at an amazing price and for many years, that was my costume for this holiday. It was my defense against getting pinched…

While the Ralph Lauren blazer is long gone, there is something about St. Patrick’s Day that piques my curiosity. I relate this day to the role that luck actually plays in our lives – for better or for worse.

Sometimes it is difficult to differentiate between bad luck and good luck. Sometimes, it can take years before we realize that what we considered to be bad luck, should actually have been a celebration of our good fortune! Hindsight is a remarkable thing. I am of the school that everything happens for a reason.

Some wait for a miracle. Some wait for their luck to change. Not my thing. While you wait, you expect the worst and actually work on a contingency plan. It seems luck is equal parts grace and gumption – both of which require your active participation. Try ridding yourself of self-inflicted obstacles. As you believe, so shall you receive.

It is all about change. Change your beliefs and your behavior will change which will, in turn, change your choices. Then you will take more chances. Take a little risk!

I am often told that I am lucky. I am not at all sure it has anything to do with luck. I will say I work hard and am focused and I pay attention to synchronicity.

Am I lucky? Maybe.

Am I blessed? Oh, yes…………………….