Things I love – Let us begin

On Pizza

I think I’ve found it. The holy grail of pizza. The piece de resistance, the ultimate destination. And for reasons beyond my current understanding, I feel the need to share this epiphany with anyone who might stumble across this little corner of the internet.

Hold on to your britches, folks, because this could be a journey for some of you. I only ask that you stick with me to the end.

Relatively thin but soft pizza crust
Garlicky tomato sauce
Hot Italian sausage
Pineapple
Mushrooms
Blue Cheese crumbles
Mozzarella

I’m telling you, this ingredient list has it all. Sweet, salty, spicy, funky, crunchy, fresh, filling, and all-around completely satisfying as the full culinary experience. And I’ve probably already got some of you questioning my sanity or salvation, to which I say two things: don’t knock it ‘till you try it, and I absolutely celebrate your fundamental right to disagree with me while simultaneously feel pity for those who will never fully experience this exqiusite quasi-italian flavor explosion for yourselves.

Crust: I make my own from scratch. Why? Because I feel a deep connection to the food I’m making? Because I don’t trust Big Pizza and it’s ingredients? Because I love the lets-wait-and-see-if-I-killed-the-yeast-today anticipation? No. Because ready-made pizza crust is not easy to find here but water, flour, yeast, and salt are. I use this recipe and it turns out fantastic every time; sometimes, when I know the week would be crazy, I make a batch on Sunday and stick them both in the freezer. On the day you’re going to use it, let it thaw in the fridge during the day and let it rise a few minutes on the counter while you’re prepping the other ingredients. Toss a little cornmeal on the pan first for an extra crunch, and I always bake it for 3-4 minutes with no toppings before slathering on the sauce and goodies because undercooked pizza dough is a travesty.

Tomato sauce: I love a saucy pizza, and I make my sauce from scratch as well. Why? See above. I make it up every time and it’s always a little different, but usually it’s a big squirt of tomato paste from the tube, some ketchup or pasta sauce if I have it, if I don’t then a sprinkle of sugar, a few shakes of Italian seasoning, a big squirt of garlic paste or spoonful or a few cloves of minced garlic, or a few shakes of granulated garlic if I am really lazy or out of the fresh stuff, and a glug of olive oil. This time I had gotten some basil paste from home and so added a squirt of that, too. It’s always quick and tasty.

Hot Italian sausage: for my midwestern friends and family who recoil at anything remotely ‘hot’, trust me, this is not hot. It’s got a very gentle kick to it that melds together with the other flavors so eloquently and perfectly that anything less than ‘hot’ would be tasteless. If I had some kind of meatless alternative to this available to me I’d definitely give it a shot but this is all I can find here. What we’re going for in this ingredient is just a little spicy element that doesn’t overtake anything else on the plate but rather adds to it.

Pineapple: Dear reader, the words ‘ew, pineapple on pizza is so gross’ have come out of my mouth I’m sure on multiple occasions, and I confess, I had never actually tried it at that point. The whole idea was just wrong to me, and it’s such a polarizing topping, I felt the need to align myself with the ‘ew’ side for much of my early years. This is one area I’ve been called to repentance. I can’t remember the setting for the first time I tried pizza with pineapple but I remember thinking wow, this is really delicious. It’s sweet, and moist and feels fresh on my tongue. Be sure to cut it up small enough that each morsel fits easily into one bite and doesn’t fill up the whole bite. Anyone who knows me knows one of my first-choice flavor profiles is sweet/savoy and this delivers with excellence.

Mushrooms: I’m not fussy, I can really only find one kind of fresh mushroom here. It adds an umami, savory depth and an enjoyable texture to the overall experience.

Blue Cheese Crumbles: One of the greatest joys in life is a really stinky cheese. Bring it on. I love it. Crumble a bit over the top and you’ve got just a hint of that funkiness and it melds together so well with the sweet, spicy, gorgeous texture of this whole experience.

Mozzarella: Well, it’s not pizza without mozzarella right?

Okay, now that you’ve made it this far… congratulations. We absolutely don’t have to agree about this but I’m telling you, it’s amazing, and everything, and I don’t know how I could ever make this pizza any better than it currently is. Let me know if you try it!

Giving back.

My feet first touched African soil on July 23, 2009, when I arrived in Cotonou, Benin, to start my 27-month service as a Peace Corps Volunteer. I had left my job in corporate America and couldn’t wait to experience whatever was in waiting for me.

I was placed in a small village in west-central Benin called Agoua. I worked in a health center and a school and learned the language and tried to make a difference. That experience was harder than I could have ever imagined. I was desperately lonely, sick, harassed all the time, confused a lot, hot and sweaty, and wondered if I would make it. I also learned so much, found my passion in global health, made lifelong friends, and helped a few people, hopefully. I learned I was much stronger than I ever thought I was, and when I finished, I knew I wanted to spend the rest of my life trying to make the world just a little bit better and never stop exploring, learning, growing, and serving. The people of Agoua gave me so much of themselves, and for that, I’m forever grateful.

In the last few months, I’ve gotten in touch with other former Volunteers who have served in Agoua. I was the first, but not the last, and after some social searching four of us managed to have our first Zoom call about a year ago. We were deep in Covid, the Peace Corps Volunteers had been evacuated worldwide, and basically, we all just wanted to chat about our shared connection to that little village in the middle of the cashew orchards. Our stories have diverged dramatically; we live in three different countries working in a variety of fields, but we realized when we were chatting that Agoua was really central to all of our stories and wondered out loud how we could give back or continue to help this little place dear to our hearts.

We were able to connect pretty easily with our primary counterpart in Agoua, the chief of the arrondisement (small group of villages) and a trusted friend to all of us, and asked if there was anything we could do to help, what would he choose? He came back pretty quickly with what seems like an obvious ask: what they really need is a source of clean water in the health center. And this was definitely a project we could get behind! To ensure things in the health center are as sanitary as possible, especially in the age of COVID, we were all really happy to come around this community and provide something so very basic and critical to quality health care. It’s such a gift to have the opportunity to give back to this community!

We are asking for our families and friends to donate in the place of gifts this holiday season. We are donating ourselves. We are asking you, friends, families, communities, connections, to consider giving to this project. Agoua is an incredibly special place, and clean water is a basic necessity, can you help us to bring that to the health center?

Here is the link that provides more of the story, info about the former Volunteers who are a part of this project, and how you can help the people of Agoua have access to clean water when they are most in need!

LINK :https://www.gofundme.com/f/w42q4-bring-water-to-agoua-health-center

(updated – new link on 11/30)

Thank you!

On Surfing.

I surfed a couple times when I was young but wasn’t ever any good… but for some reason I kept wanting to try again, and again, and again. Somehow, for reasons surpassing understanding, I really love it, even though, as I will endeavor to explain, it’s an absolutely ridiculous thing for me to be doing.

The first reason surfing is a ridiculous thing for me to be doing: I am terrible at it. I mean, really terrible. I am the opposite of a natural, it took me weeks to get beyond the most beginner of waves and I still struggle to stand up on the board even though I’ve had dozens of lessons in many locations and countries. I struggle to get my balance, to pop up fast enough, to read the waves, to trust my body.

But for me, with surfing…. there’s something about intentionally doing something I’m not naturally good at. As kids but even more so as adults we tend to shy away from things we’re terrible at, whether it be because we don’t want to look bad in front of others or we don’t like the feeling of disappointment when we fail, but in general, the activities we are drawn towards spending our time doing are activities where we have a reasonable assumption of skill, or at least we are confident we can hold our own.

And there’s something just raw and honest about going out and doing this thing, with others (I’m always surfing with others who will know if I get into trouble or get eaten by a shark) that I know I’m going to quite possibly be absolutely terrible at, because I like it. Yes, I get frustrated when I have a bad series and can’t seem to get my feet under me or feel I should be doing better than I am. But to get out there and continue to literally fall on my face, get up, and try again, over and over and over and over… it’s good for my ego, and reminds me that even though I’m terrible at something doesn’t mean I shouldn’t do it anyway.

The second reason surfing is a ridiculous thing for me to be doing: I am afraid. Every time I face the waves I get that pit of fear deep in my stomach and I have to convince myself once again I am not going to drown.

Now, I know I’m a strong swimmer and I grew up on lakes and in and around water. And I don’t generally surf in particularly dangerous locations. But I am afraid of getting injured (my nearly-40-year-old-body reminds me of the fact that no matter how much I try to imagine I’m still 22 I am not). I know two people in entirely separate incidents who were paralyzed by a freak wave accident and I know many more who have emerged bloody or broken or bruised. I’ve been tossed around in deep water until I couldn’t tell which way was up and I have felt the power of the water crashing over me. I’m afraid of being thrown into rocks or reef, of not being able to find the surface, of the board hitting me in the face, or any one of dozens of other possibilities.

But there’s something about acknowledging the fear and doing it anyways. Not in a reckless way, but in an intentional choice of reducing risk and to not let fear get the best of me. Someone said something once that has always stuck with me; fear is welcome in the room, but not welcome at the decision table. Fear can speak into the conversation, and can be an element in wisdom, but does not get to say yes or no. I think a little bit of fear is a good thing; and as I have to remind myself quite often, fear is not the boss of me, love is the boss of me.

So for some reason I keep doing this thing that I am simultaneously afraid of and terrible at; and some days, like Wednesday, I think to myself maybe I should stop trying to be a surfer. The waves were a bit crazy and I couldn’t seem to get my feet under me and I got frustrated with myself for being unable to do something that seems so easy. But then I have days like Friday, where the water is just right and my body remembers what it’s doing and I catch some really beautiful waves while the dolphins are jumping just beyond, and it’s such a rush that I forget about all the hard days and only look forward to the next good one. There was one day a few weeks ago when I was on the dolphin coast that was amazing, I caught everything and my feet were under me and I was flying the whole day and even after a terrible day the next day, where the conditions were tough and I was thrown into the rocks and left the water less than halfway through the pre-determined session, I didn’t care. Because I was still buzzing from the day before, and even now I think of that day and I get a feeling of accomplishment, and can’t wait to feel that way again.

And there’s something absolutely meditative about surfing; I can’t think of anything else when I’m out there. It’s one of the few times I’m not multitasking or feeling stressed or anxious about this work problem or that relationship or whatever else is running my brain. I am solely focused, body, mind, and heart, feeling my body and mind get stronger with every effort, every fall, every scare, every beautiful wave.

So here I am, emerging from the water with numb toes and ears full of salt water I’m thinking about the next time. I’m strategically planning my strength training sessions to help make the next time easier, stronger, faster, better. And, after a particularly rough day, I remind myself that I have nothing to prove; I am not out there to impress anyone or to be a great surfer. A good day might include a lot of really good waves, and it might also include a lot of really bad falls, because I still showed up and gave it my all.

The results are in…

After six months and two samples and a lot of time in transit, I finally got the genetic analysis of my Jay!

Just as a refresher: the shelter I got him from had posted his photo three different times before he chose me; on one they suggested he was a shepherd mix, another a lab mix, and another an Africanis. When I got him, the woman said she guessed he was a shepherd basset cross, which would explain his shepherd coloring and short legs. The vet seconded this guess, so it’s what I’ve been going with. Until now.

Drumroll please….

Yep, he’s a real mutt. The ‘supermutt’ category said he’s probably got a dozen more slivers of various breeds, but very likely some collie, Doberman pinscher, bulldog, and bull terrier.

I was surprised to see so many breeds, and no basset! The terrier accounts for his short legs, but I never would have guessed boerboel, they are huge! One woman who I met suggested Ridgeback when she saw his forehead crinkle up, I guess that’s a ridgeback trait. And I wondered Rottweiler because of his eyebrows.

They can call him my supermutt… I will just call him super.

p.s. I got his DNA kit through Amazon, by a company called Embark. They kept me updated all along the journey, with notifications when they received the samples, how long it would be, etc. I also got a report on various health and genetic conditions I should share with my vet, possible relatives (he has some American cousins!) along with the in-depth breed profile. I’d def recommend their service to anyone!