We recently received a generous $200 donation from a friend in Canada, with a request that we use it to purchase supplies for the Salvation Army food bank. With so many people struggling to feed their families these days, the tiny Salvation Army food bank has been stretched by an overwhelming number of appeals for help. So today, armed with two shopping carts, the Salvation Army van, the help of Joakim (a Swedish SA officer who lives here), and a thick wallet, we stormed the aisles of the largest grocery store in town. We tried to purchase things that were most needed at the food bank, and all of us were surprised by how much we were able to keep piling into our carts. Here’s just how far $200 can go:
15 loaves of bread
20 bottles of vegetable oil
20 containers of margarine
24 kilograms of sugar
20 boxes of tea
70 tins of meat
20 bags of dried pearl barley
90 packets of ramen noodle soup
20 bags of macaroni pasta
We are feeling very thankful, and somewhere in our city tonight, someone is feeling a little less hungry. Thank you!
Unless you count washing dishes, I have no particular talent in the kitchen. I can’t “eyeball” measurements like my Mother can, I have no idea what “season to taste” is supposed to mean, and “golden brown” easily becomes “burnt black” when I am in charge. Recently, however, a recipe for something new fell into my lap, and I couldn’t resist having a whirl. The ingredients went something like this:
one box of goodies sent to us from Nathan’s parents
a touch of Christmas nostalgia
one persistent craving for a Slurpee
one nacho-fanatic husband
a pinch of homework-free days
a ray of sunshine making the kitchen the most desirable place to be
Several round of pots and pans and a few days later, four scrumptious new dishes had been stirred, grated, rolled, boiled, grilled, frozen…and licked clean. Here are the results:
Cranberry-Orange Bread, inspired by a bag of soft, dried cranberries sent by Nathan’s parents. The freshly grated orange rind in this loaf makes it smell wonderful, and even though it is usually baked as a Christmas tradition, our boiled version tasted almost as good in May.
Iced-coffee-slush, reminiscent of the kind I used to slurp while driving around on a hot summer day in Canada. This was the closest I could come to slurpee-making, but I am not at all disappointed. Topped with a drizzle of maple syrup, this is so good!
Vegetarian Sloppy-Joe’s, thanks to a seasoning packet that came in our goodie box. We decided to try buckwheat as a ground beef substitute, and were surprised…it worked!
Nachos made from scratch. The jar of Cheez Whiz that Nathan’s parents sent was the perfect thing to go with nachos, but we couldn’t find any unflavoured ones at our local stores. Finally, I decided to attempt making tortillas using a recipe from my culinarily astute cousin-in-law. The process of mixing, kneading, resting, cooking, cutting, oiling, and grilling the tortillas into nachos was a lot of work, but the fun of dipping them into gooey, melted Cheez Whiz made it all worth it. And they must have been pretty good, because they are all gone…even the burnt ones.
There’s something about writing a post for Easter that makes me think I should have something profound to say; that I should be full of descriptive joy for a day of such immense significance and meaning. But the truth is, I had been dreading Easter Sunday. A long-held tradition in our church is to gather near the shores of the Baltic Sea (or rather, in some semi-protective clump of dry shrubbery far enough away from the Sea that we can withstand the freezing wind) for a short service, followed by sharing breakfast and warmth in someone’s home. We enjoy the sense of community and simplicity in this very non-traditional gathering, but it comes with one very un-enjoyable side effect: it’s cold. It’s cold in that freezing, wet, Baltic wind kind-of-way that, to me, feels much colder than the worst Alberta winter.
When we woke up Easter Sunday morning, I was glad to see rays of sunlight coming through the window, though the memory of painfully frostbitten toes still prompted me to pull on as many layers of clothing as possible. Two shirts, two sweaters, tights, my new knee-high wool socks from Mom, jeans…and I was just getting started. Eventually, I waddled my well-padded bulkiness into the kitchen, where Nathan had discovered that the Easter Bunny came! He even found two cleverly disguised jellybeans – instead of the usual vitamins – sitting in his cereal bowl. Our Easter Bunny has learned a few tricks over the years. ☺
We caught the bus out to the local beach, and once everyone had arrived at our meeting place, we made our way up the slope to the peak of the beach. Surprisingly, the sun continued to shine, and the winds stayed calm. Still, I stuffed my hands deep into my pockets, bracing myself against the impending cold. But as our group walked across the soft, deep sand towards a quiet, grassy ridge, I realized that my feet weren’t freezing, and in fact, I hadn’t even put my toque on. Actually, we were all taking our time and enjoying the view of the sun glinting on the soft waves of the sea. Instead of huddling in a valley of sand, we gathered at the top of a ridge where we could look out onto the beach, and let our voices echo in song over the dunes. And there, gathered together as brothers and sisters, we exclaimed, “Christ is risen! He is risen indeed!”
Following our celebration on the beach, we squeezed everyone into the few vehicles that were there, and made the half hour trip to Modestas and Ramune’s house outside of town. Ramune arranged a simple and tasty breakfast of sliced sausage and cheese, dark bread, tomatoes, olives, yogourt with fruit, Easter bread, grapes and apples. Tadas brought a cold, white-meat meatloaf that was covered in almonds and shaped like a rabbit. We had never seen this particular Easter dish before, and it’s little bay-leaf ears made it almost too cute to eat. Of course, the kids had dyed hard-boiled eggs, and the game of cracking each other’s eggs (without cracking your own) was just as much fun for the adults as it was for the kids. Blobs of spicy horseradish add some zing to the eggs, and help you forget that you have just eaten someone’s artwork!
After lunch, a few of us headed off for a stroll through the nearby woods. As the sun continued to beam down on us, coats were unzipped, sweaters removed, and gloves were stowed away in pockets. It was a beautiful afternoon, and we had a fantastic time together, picking flowers, chatting, and listening to the thrum of hundreds of young frogs splashing in the creek.
We made it home well before supper, and though our apartment was much cooler than it was outside, we quickly peeled out of our layers and settled in to enjoy the long weekend. As I put away my gloves and tossed another jellybean into my mouth, I couldn’t help but be amazed at how unexpectedly fantastic this day had turned out. Not just because of the warm weather or good food, but the unexpectedness of joy. But then…that is the story of Easter, after all.
