Diane Morgan

Even folks who never complain about the weather in our corner of the country are grumbling. The weathermen are saying this is one of the wettest Mays ever, with over four inches of rain.

But I’m not one of those people who never complain about the rain. I grouse plenty. I kvetch. I fret. I gripe and sigh. I’m one of those people who delay errands for another day, standing at the window like the kids in The Cat in the Hat, saying to myself: I don’t really need to run to the grocery store, I’ll pull something from the freezer or scavenge through the pantry to create a meal. I’ll find something fun to do inside and leave the soggy, bone-chilling, guaranteed-bad-hair day to everyone else.

This is a good climate to be a writer! During these stretches, I get my sunshine from the bright light of my big Apple monitor. I may gaze out my study window and see raindrops, gray skies, and puddles, but when I turn back to my keyboard, my screensaver treats me to images of my children mugging for the camera on a crisp, sunny day in Istanbul. I see that sunshine and imagine the possibilities – and then I write.

My editor and I were discussing recently how little TV we each watch. He is busy reading and I’m busy cooking and writing. As a freelance writer I dictate my own hours, and they are odd. I try to have a rhythm but it is hard to capture and quantify. What about always. What I do isn’t really a job, (though I get paid for it). It is a passion. And when you are passionate about something, you live it, breathe it, discuss it, eat it, and for me, cook and write about it.

My husband and I were just in New York City for our daughter’s college graduation. I was planning and booking our dinner reservations and thinking about where we would have lunch. She begged me not to plan the entire trip around food. Really? Why not? We’ll find plenty of great activities to do between meals, but good meals are not to be missed. Can you imagine wasting calories on mediocre food?

It was warm and gloriously sunny in New York, a welcome respite from Portland’s weather – until the day of the big graduation ceremony. And then it rained. For nearly three hours we sat outside in the cold rain, tucked under an umbrella, part of the canopy of umbrellas that surrounded us. We could hear, but not really see, the graduation ceremony.

Waiting for the ceremony to start, I was busy writing. I texted my daughter to say: We are in row five under the big black umbrella. See us? I wrote a memo with tasting notes about the previous night’s dinner, and then I e-mailed a friend back home, grumbling about the soggy weather—just can’t escape it this time of year.

A Food Writer’s Dilemma

How do I reconcile the desire to eat seasonally and locally with the demand of deadlines? Consider the lead times. Rarely does a magazine give a writer a year’s notice for an article, so I find myself roasting turkey in February, scrambling to find fresh chestnuts, and hoping there are persimmons left in the market. Or, I’m developing recipes for a book and need to re-test my rhubarb compote in December. Hot house rhubarb anyone?

As much as I want recipe development to follow the rhythm of the seasons, it mostly doesn’t. Recently asked to double-check the quantity of liquid in a blackberry sauce, I slinked through my local grocery store on Saturday buying organic blackberries grown in Chile. They were fresh and tasty, but not with a low-carbon footprint. I felt guilty and was hoping the produce manager, who I know, wouldn’t see me since I’m such a vocal supporter of all the local farmers the store buys from. On the one hand, those organic berries are there because “someone” is buying them (oops, that was me) and the produce manager wouldn’t be ordering them if he thought they were going to sit on the counter and rot. On the other hand, with all the marketing materials and signage declaring, “seasonal” and “local,” what are they doing there at all?

Our dynamic Portland farmers’ market closed for the winter and won’t reopen until late March. And even then it is a slow start until the ground warms up and produces spring onions, spinach, and rosy long stems of rhubarb

Chorizo Chile Con Queso perfect for Super Bowl Dip

As I think about winter entertaining and the upcoming opportunity to gather friends to watch the Super Bowl, I’m wondering about the two tomatoes I have in the ingredient list for the Chorizo Chile Con Queso (this week’s Featured Recipe). Hmmm, I could hydrate and dice some sun-dried tomatoes, or I could leave them out altogether, or I could imagine the warm sunshine of Miami and think about the large crop of tomatoes grown in Florida at this time of year and shipped around the nation. My carbon footprint is negligible watching the game at home. Does that negate the impact of the tomatoes transported here? Am I going to be the “someone” buying traveling tomatoes? It’s a dilemma.

Diane

Even with the near daily reminders of the downsizing of the print media industry, the world of food writing is evolving with digital media outlets. I find it exciting rather than depressing and am energized by the constant need to grow and expand my skill set. The challenge will certainly be discussed in this year’s food writing course–the seventh year I have taught the course. Keeping up with and mentoring my students has always been a goal and this year I have invited one of my former students to be a speaker. Tami Parr will be addressing the subject of blogging–”From Blog to Book.” Tami successfully parlayed a passion for Northwest Artisan cheese into a blog, The Northwest Cheese Project, and from there has written a book, Artisan Cheese of the Pacific Northwest. Check out my website www.dianemorgancooks.com for details on the course and how to register.