Day 10: Ten pounds

Weight: 199

Today is boring to report but a milestone I suppose.

Did your folks ever stretch orange juice with water? Why not take the same principle and "stretch" a stir fry with back yard greens?

The fish was good but now I'm back to the yard. Today I just wanted flavor. Protein was irrelevant. Fortunately, I had the good sense to cultivate more peppers than sustaining foods. So, I diced up a wonderful Anaheim pepper, which wasn't looking so good but, amazingly, it grew to an edible size in the PNW. None of my bell peppers are doing a thing, unfortunately. In any case, I put together a full-scale taste bud assault from the yard, to keep my mind from the fact that all I had was blackberries throughout the day. So here was the fabulous stir-fry: Amaranth buds (much better in a stir fry than raw), nasturtium buds (the best part) along with their flowers and a couple handfuls of their giant leaves, carrots (I pulled them when they were smaller than they could have been but I couldn't wait), some remaining cucumber, lots of big intimidating dandelion leaves, three yellow dandelion flowers, a handful of mint (which is much different and very helpful in a stir fry) some lettuce (which didn't deserve to be there in wilted pan fried form but a bulk additive), garlic (planted thanks to a visit from my father), two green mini-pine-cones from an alder (which I ended up spitting out despite their reported protein content), rose petals, the last green onion, some more Chanterelle slices, and a big hand full of garden green beans (previously blanched). To this I added spices: sage, turmeric, sea salt (I should make my own next time), ground black pepper, mustard powder, and for fun I shook in some poppy seeds that my sister collected in a bowl before she left her visit in August.

I swear it tasted better than any stir fry I've ever made in terms of flavor. When this experiment is over, I might do the exact same thing, with a few sane alterations, some diced chicken (I almost got my friend to pick up some free chickens this weekend, but it turns out you can have three hens in Seattle but not Mukilteo), and some rice noodles.

I went foraging during my lunch hour on a hiking trail and found some mushrooms I couldn't identify (seen above left), in addition to non edible varieties I've already identified. So, good exercise, but no luck in terms of forage food. Indeed, there weren't even any berries on this hike left. I am worried I took too many Oregon grapes.

The good news is that our jug of apple cider is now bubbling through it's water valve. That means the yeast are doing their thing. Thank you little guys.

When sitting out in my backyard, peaking at the sliver of view that opens to the Puget Sound, I saw my clearest view of the Olympic Peninsula mountains, and a wonderful red sky sunset. Sailor's delight! Jesus and Ahab agree on this. I also realized that my resident frog was croaking right beneath the steps below me. There, for reasons I cannot fathom, I promised mentally not to harm the beast. I was full, and there may be a chance that whatever he is, he is an endangered species, and I bet he is a friend that will help eat insects that threaten my garden. Plus, I didn't expect a frog in my yard at all so I want at least this guy, crying out for love, to have his chance. How can I eat one so dedicated to the proposition that all frogs are created to seek procreation. I wish you all the best in your quest to pass on your lineage, little green amphibian. I'll spare you and eat more amaranth instead this month, just promise me that you don't squander your love on a mean spirited female frog. But don't worry, if the frog gets big enough to feed me for a day my ethics may be out the window. I once had three bullfrogs at a Chinese restaurant in Soho, London. They were hard to eat because of their skeletal structure but scrumptious. They don't taste like chicken, as some will tell you, they taste like heaven but look like hell. That's my kind of food.

Addendum: My snail farm looks good and I guess it will be day 17 when I get to cook them up. That will be a day of victory and feasting indeed. Service berries just wait to be consumed for breakfast but after that, I'm not sure what my plan will be. No better way to weed than to eat every weed in your suburban yard. But for me, this means there is not much left to consume in the 1/4 acre around where I sit right now.