March is here. Gradually Winter’s cold begins to retreat, letting go its grip upon our imagination and inclinations. We yearn for Spring. But, to rush a season is to miss life’s subtle nuances.

So, we lighten up. We take a deep breath to luxuriate in the fullness of waiting, celebrating new rites of passage. The truth is that waiting is when the magic happens!

If you are like most, you probably don’t give a second thought to the sweet banana, one of the few fruits available year-round. Although primarily eaten out of hand, sliced into cereal, or in desserts, sweet bananas can also be used as an accent in savory dishes, baked into heavenly breads, and so much more.

As the story goes, one of the first shipments of bananas to reach the colonies was in 1690 at Salem, Massachusetts. The colonists tried boiling them with pork. Not a big hit. It took nearly 200 years after that culinary disaster for bananas to really catch on with North Americans.

There are over four hundred varieties of bananas with the yellow Cavendish being the most favored in the U.S. A natural remedy for many ailments, the banana is best known for its ability to provide an instant, sustained, and substantial boost of energy.

Buy bananas that are bright in appearance, firm and plump, green at the stems, free from bruises, and in a bunch. The state of ripeness is indicated by the skin color. Best eating quality has been reached when the solid yellow color is specked with brown. At this stage, the flesh is mellow and the flavor fully developed. I love the sight of a basket of bananas ripening on the kitchen counter, but if necessary, they can be ripened in a brown paper bag to expedite the process. For baking, broiling, or sautéing, catch them when they are still slightly green to avoid them cooking to mush. Fully ripe bananas are best for mashing to bake.

Any tropical fruit can induce daydreams of sunny mornings, azure blue seas, and dancing on the beach. Happily, these fruits are with us not only in the lazy days of Summer, but also in those months here in the Pacific Northwest when we simply need a gentle reminder, with bananas certainly being the most familiar!

Once in a while, our thoughts drift and fade back into the recessed hiding places where our memories are safely stored. At times we recall them – the memories of our loves, our youth, our life experiences. There are often special places that captivate and hold a sacred meaning for us. In recalling these places, our memories evoke reverent feelings, and, if only for a moment, we are there once again.

Prior to relocating to Friday Harbor, I resided in Port Madison on Bainbridge Island. While my waterfront cottage there was idyllic, I yearned for a special little place to call my own in the San Juan Islands. A getaway – a haven, a retreat, a refuge. It was an urge that bordered on primal.

As fate would have it, I finally found my special place in late September of 2001 when the world was reeling from the events of September 11th. My getaway consisted of a studio cabin and separate shoreside sleeping cabin just outside Deer Harbor on Orcas Island. It was heaven.

On securing my getaway, the process of making it my own became a priority. Remembering I would want to access the many consignment shops and garage sales in the islands, I shopped for affordable linens, area rugs, and throw pillows. I raided my Port Madison cottage of art, baskets and other decorative items. I packed dishes, glasses, candles. I gathered my embroidery, books, watercolors, music, a small TV/VCR and, given that my job did not afford me the luxury of total escape, I included a fax machine and my laptop.

With my faithful dog, Clipper, at my side, I would load my station wagon to the very brim. We would leave Bainbridge before dawn every Friday morning to make the commute through Port Townsend via the ferry to Keystone and drive the length of Whidbey to ultimately stop in Anacortes for a few last minute provisions inclusive of fresh flowers and a quick take-out lunch, then head for the ferry line. Anticipation ran high.

It is at this time of year – off season, if you will — that I have vivid recall of my getaway on Orcas Island. Adding a richness to my wondrous, but sometimes hectic life, the pace on Orcas was slower, the world quieter.

Ultimately, my stays on Orcas grew longer and longer until I realized I did not want to leave and the only thing I really missed were my kitties. It was, quite obviously, time to make the San Juan Islands my permanent home.

I now have no need for a getaway! I have arrived.

On a blustery, cold and drizzly February day, nothing sounds quite as seductive as “would you care for a cup of tea?” Indeed, in some countries, tea is the universal gesture of welcome!

Take the cup into your hands – it will nestle there quite comfortably, its heat radiating through the china and rising in curls like mist from a lake. Savor the moment, wait just a minute before taking that first sip. Make note of the texture and fragrance, the first taste of the tea before it even touches your lips. Allow the brew to cool a bit, to find the deep, mellow warmth where its richest flavor lies. It will taste full and sweet upon your lips then, and refreshingly astringent as it passes across your tongue. Move the tea about in your mouth a bit and, after you swallow it, what will linger in your senses is the most elegant of perfumes. One need not be a fortune-teller to be mesmerized by tea.

Tea can be as pale as sunlight or brown as the earth. Indeed, there are countless kinds of tea – including green, herbal and fruit varieties – but black tea is the traditional accompaniment to afternoon tea. The most famous black teas are Earl Grey, scented with oil of bergamot; Lapsang souchong, with its smoky flavor; and Darjeeling, with a taste reminiscent of muscatel. Other black teas include Assam, Ceylon, China Caravan, English Breakfast, Irish Breakfast, Keemun, Kenya, Nilgiri, Orange Pekoe, Rose Pouchong, Russian and Yunnan.

Whether creating an oasis for yourself during a hectic day, simply visiting with a friend, or indulging in what the British know as afternoon tea, this captivating hot brew is the perfect antidote to the crunch of life – civilized and soothing. Tea pretty much sums up where we are today: seeking a healthy lifestyle, exploring other cultures and taking time to enjoy contemplative moments. Although tea can be served throughout the day, afternoon tea, traditionally taken at four o’clock, is an elegant ritual worthy of consideration. It is the hour devoted to the ceremony when life comes to a well-mannered halt and all the properties of the occasion are observed.

Afternoon tea consists of surprising foods and teas that are so full of flavor that each is truly a revelation. It is a lavish spread of cakes, very thin sandwiches and scones with jam and clotted cream. There is no set menu and it really depends on the time of year, the setting and personal tastes. Other choices can include muffins, crumpets, bread and butter, cookies, gingerbread, pastries and fruit. The traditional order is sandwiches first, then scones, followed by all things sweet.

Do I have your attention?

The world seems to brace itself for February; the burnished silver skies seem to nearly sigh with stoic beauty, this quiet time. But, February is, without a doubt, Valentine’s Day and Valentine’s Day is the mystery and magic of an unsigned valentine, it is romance in shades of red and pink, chubby cherubs and cupids, hearts and flowers, lace and – chocolate!

It is no wonder that chocolate speaks the language of love. There is perhaps no other food that evokes such universal passion.

Chocolate originated in the Amazon basin where it was first cultivated by the ancient Toltec, Aztec, and Mayan peoples of Central America. Legend has it that the gods looked down on the people of Central America as they struggled for survival and resolved that Quetzalcoatl, the plumed serpent god of light, should assume human form to descend into their midst on a beam of morning starlight. This god-man, as an act of love, bestowed upon his people a little shrub that had, until then, belonged exclusively to the gods. Thecauhcachuatl, or the cocoa tree, was planted and Xochiquetzal, the goddess of love and happiness, adorned it with beautiful blossoms. The fruits of the tree were soon used as money and became symbols of a person’s wealth.

Of the many culinary contributions the Americas have given the world, I would have to say the most endearing might just be chocolate. Chocolate continues to be the confection most often associated with love throughout the world today. The endurance of chocolate’s popularity is a fitting tribute to the god of light.

Cold, grey, drizzly mornings may make the shortest month seem the longest. But, lingering afternoons and pink sunsets hold out promise. Like matters of the heart, February is full of surprise, contradiction, and the spell of the sensuous. Offering the perfect excuse to let your imagination run wild with romantic notions, Valentine’s Day comes but once a year. Cherish it.

I had the good fortune to grow up in a beach environment surrounded by savvy female mentors.  These women taught my sisters and me to comb the beach for treasures – agates, jasper, arrowheads, heart rocks, driftwood, shells, and beach glass.  Indeed, to this day, my sisters and I walk the beach with our heads down.  We can’t help ourselves.  We are collectors.

My home is filled with mementos from my beach walks.  I have five large apothecary jars filled with agates on my kitchen windowsill.  Arrowheads grace my desk.  Heart rocks are scattered throughout my house and on my porch.  I have driftwood in my garden.  I have shells from my travels as well as from local beaches. And, I have beach glass.

The beach glass is my favorite.  I have resurrected a process my sisters and I did as kids at the beach.  I make beach glass mosaics in a bed of sand.  As kids, we would make them in whatever shape we fancied at the time. Indeed, the first one I ever made was an octopus (of all things)!

I have an affinity for anything in the shape of a heart.  The simple, yet appealing shape is the symbol of love, dreams, and desire.  Rivaled only by anything to do with the sea, in my estimation, there is nothing as beautiful or mysterious.  It comes as no surprise that my mosaics are now in the shape of a heart.

Over the years, these hearts have become more polished – more professional, if you will.  They hang at an angle and are tied off with ribbons.  Each heart is named and numbered.  I sell them on my web site as well as at boutique gift shops in beach communities up and down the West Coast.  They are particularly popular with couples visiting the islands to get married as gifts to the wedding party.

These brides typically will want the hearts in their wedding colors, at which point I have to explain that beach glass only comes in certain colors aside from the occasional piece of pottery.  White is common, as are brown and green.  Aqua is fairly easy to find.  Blue is coveted.  Occasionally, I will stumble across a piece of pink or lavender and oh, to find a piece of red is quite a thrill!

With the beach as my inspiration, my mosaics are a reflection of a lifetime at the edge of the sea and my gift.  Heartfelt…

This week is my birthday and I love birthdays!  Every birthday, not just the ones marking a new decade, is a significant milestone.  Every age brings with it 365 “real life” lessons.

Not big on major birthday gatherings at this point in my life, I still feel the need to distinguish the birth day of my life in special ways from the rest of the calendar.  It is a day of authentic indulgences, joyful simplicities, contemplation, closure, and celebration.  Without fail, I bake myself a layer cake from scratch following the recipe my Mother used when I was growing up.

The perfect American symbol for birthdays, anniversaries, or really for no reason whatsoever, nothing impresses quite like a layer cake.  These days, the cakes that once won hearts are made far less frequently.  What a pity.  They aren’t especially difficult to make, and they have a gratifying power to please.  They may be simple, but they can also be stunning in their size, heading up to five or even six layers.  They’re also fun to eat, each bite a different experience, depending on which combination of frosting and cake makes it onto the fork.

Cakes are science made sweet.  Every successful recipe is a fine balancing act of ingredients, each playing a special role in the cake’s success.

Following is my Mother’s recipe.  Take time, make time, make your cake…

Farron Family Birthday Cake

1 c. shortening (part butter)
2 c. sugar
2 ¾ c. flour
4 tsp. b.p.
½ tsp. salt
1 c. skimmed milk
½ tsp. vanilla
½ tsp. almond extract
6 egg whites (at least ¾ c.)

Cream shortening and sugar.  Sift flour, baking powder, and salt together and mix alternately with milk and extracts.  Beat egg whites until stiff, then cut down through batter with edge of spoon repeating until egg white is distributed through batter.  Grease/flour 2 round 9” pans and bake at 350° for 30-45 minutes until tester comes out clean.  We frost with homemade chocolate frosting.

Well, we made it through the holidays and the snowstorm that followed.  We are now faced with the challenges of a new year.  Stressful news is unrelenting and the world seems at times to be grey on grey on grey.  The concept of Spring becomes illusive at best.  We don’t want to crawl out of bed in the morning, the word motivated is no longer in our vocabulary, we feel unappreciated and maybe a bit cranky or just plain tired.  When it seems that it has been Winter forever and it’s just too much, when the miseries strike and you’re down in the dumps, when you are just plain worn out and the world isn’t such a nice place – food transformed by love and memory becomes therapy.

Remember those well-loved recipes from childhood – the ones that conjure up happy, innocent moments when all was right with the world?  However abysmal it really was, childhood seems so much more appealing the farther away it gets!  But, we’re never too old for “comfort” food – evocative of more peaceful times as a child, reminding us of feeling warm, safe, and happy.  Comfort food is the equivalent of a warm sweater, a kiss on the forehead, a favorite blanket.

It is difficult to precisely pinpoint a definition for comfort food as it is truly a personal thing and we all have our favorites.  However, in talking with friends and family about this, there seems to be a common thread.  The foods that fall into this bracket are simple, sometimes bland and creamy, hearty, and very often sweet.  Chocolate tops the list with puddings, ice cream, pasta, and soup following.  Comfort food is over the top.  It is pushing the point – making memories in Technicolor.  It is unpretentious, rich in flavor, and you feel good both about making it and eating it.  One thing is certain:  comfort food is not diet food.

Borrowing cuisines from our childhood, we add a delightful twist to yet another dreary, bordering on unbearable, January.  The next time you are on edge with jangled nerves, treat yourself to something smooth, comforting, and delectable – something that will make you smack your lips and soothe your jaded palate.

Last night it snowed again.  I suspected as much when I rolled over in the dark to glimpse dazzling beams of light streaming through my bedroom windows.  When I looked outside, a hushed white world was bathed in moon glow.  It was as if Mother Nature had pulled a soft, muffling comforter up to the countryside’s chin and tucked me in for a brief Winter’s reverie.  I slipped back under the covers to ponder my day.  A reprieve!  No early morning trip to town.  No sense of urgency.  I have permission to burrow in – to snuggle deep.  A Winter idyll of simple splendor awaits.

Here in the islands, there are no snow plows to dig us out and few trucks to salt our roads.  When it snows, many of us are forced to stay in one place to restore our bodies and nurture our souls by honoring the rhythm of the natural world.  This is the traditional way.

I will let Winter weave her wondrous spell; cold, crisp, playful snow walks with my dog, Romeo, a seductive read, a luscious cup of cocoa, fragrant wood fires, baking something wonderful to share, beach glass art, and a sumptuous pajama supper by flickering candlelight.  The stunning ordinary in the simply overlooked.

All of nature is at peace.  This is the time to dream.  In the natural world, Winter is the season of rest, restoration, and reflection.

Soon, the sun will shine and the temperature will rise above freezing.  The snow will melt and my hiatus will be over.  Refreshed and invigorated, I will pick up whatever was set down – once again happy with my lot in life, dispatching my obligations with good humor, efficiency, even contentment.

January – the month of new beginnings and cherished memories.  It is a fresh start, a new chapter.  A time for reflection and resolution.

The first month of our calendar year was named by the Romans after Janus, the god of change, transitions, and beginnings.  Janus had two faces – one looking forward, the other backward.  He had the ability to watch entrances and exits, but symbolically, it signaled the need to balance our hopes for tomorrow with a keen awareness of what happened yesterday.

So many of us bought into the “Bigger is Better” and the “More is Better Yet” philosophies of the 1980’s – the big house, the big car, the conveniences, and the toys.  Oddly enough, many of us are rethinking these things.  Rather than contributing to our lives, perhaps these things actually complicate them far more than many of us are willing to admit.  Might it be time to get off the fast track?

Wise men and women in every major culture throughout history have found that the secret to happiness is not in getting more, but in wanting less.  Embrace the golden moment of change, the opportunity to freely give up the things that don’t make you happy and incorporate the lessons of the 80’s into a simple, yet elegant, lifestyle of this century.  To paraphrase Henry David Thoreau, take advantage of the movement of the times and simplify, simplify.  And enjoy!

Many believe that simplicity implies doing without.  However, when you learn what you can live without, you are able to ask life for the very best because you possess the gift of discernment.

Living simply means reducing the scale, maintaining the comfort, eliminating the complexity, and minimizing the time demands of life, as we had known it.  Get rid of all the stuff you don’t use anymore.  Move to where you can work where you live and do what you really want to do.  Perhaps move to a smaller house.  Simplify your eating habits, consolidate your investments, rethink your buying habits, and reduce your needs for goods and services.  Live in harmony with the environment.

Simple living is about living deliberately.  You choose your existence rather than cruising through life on automatic pilot.  You choose things consciously.  It is about making deliberate, thoughtful choices.  You live your life to coincide with your ideals.  You know what you want out of life, taking creativity and determination to new heights in order to accomplish your dreams.  You are fully present, fully aware.  You live a full, robust, honest, and intimate life.

Outside it is dark.  And, dark as you have never seen dark before – unless you actually grew up in the country.  With the passing of the holidays, the startling absence of all the glittery artificial lights reveals a sky as black as a raven’s wing – so deep, yet so full of light.  It is nothing short of dazzling.  Part of the luminosity comes from the stars, like a thousand blinking eyes, watching to see how earth is doing while waiting for Lady Luna.

For many years, I was a city girl.  In the city, electricity makes it easy to blur the boundaries between day and night, Winter and Spring, and I definitely did, by burning the candle at both ends.  But, on Winter nights here on my island, the only candles meant to be burning are in my living room.  Surprising even to me, I have learned to live according to the rhythm of natural light.  Day is for activity, night is for rest.

I must confess, nighttime used to be a time of apprehension for me, especially if alone.  But, here on my island, I have known some of most serene, sweet, and poetic hours sitting on my porch in the dark watching the water, marveling at nocturnal wonders revealed for my eyes only, while conversing with the night.  Sometimes I am bundled up and sometimes I am barefoot, but I am always content.  The velvety darkness has become a dear friend to me, a comforting presence, not to be feared, but to be embraced.

Indeed, becoming familiar with the mysteries of light and darkness have become an exquisite seasonal splendor…