NUTS (and seeds and truffles, oh my!)

Forward

2011-06-21T18:58:00.007-08:00

Melanie Gould was found alive on Saturday, June 11, 10 days after her disappearance from Talkeetna consumed friends, family, and, it turns out strangers all over Alaska and beyond. Here's an interview with her very positive, warm brother Glenn.

Some might use this saying: "All's well that ends well." Maybe. We are, I am, of course, overjoyed that Mel emerged seemingly unscathed from whatever she experienced in the wilderness. There was never a doubt in my mind that Melanie was, is and will continue to be a strong, vibrant, smart and skilled person capable of much more than some might give her credit for, including herself. Yes, all's well. She survived!

However, there is no "ends well" here. Maybe some or all of us will hear her story one day, maybe not. But this is certainly not the end. Neither is it the beginning. Melanie's life continues. My work and the sweat and tears and joy and fullness of every minute here at the Squirrel continue. The journey does not end. It is always moving forward, moving on.

I wonder if that's what it's like to mush dogs....

Here's wishing everyone, especially my friend Melanie, peace, rest and many more adventures to come.

Photo: Melanie & my son Oliver at Birch Creek Ranch, March 2011

Melanie on My Mind

2011-06-07T09:41:00.015-08:00

Sunday, June 5 was my birthday. I spent the morning crying, trying to get through my 6th day of work without Mel’s 40 hours she would have worked last week, getting hugs from friends, family, staff and customers.

I spent the second half of the day at Birch Creek Ranch, my in-laws' farm where Melanie transplanted nemesia flowers a couple of weeks ago and where my husband, Brian is planting veggies for this year’s Talkeetna Grown CSA. It was a relief to get my hands in the dirt, be outside in the open space, smell the freshness of grass growing after a good hard rain. I agree with everything Sharla posted on the Facebook site for Melanie's search this morning. Go outside. DO something. That’s what Mel would want. Most certainly she would be dumbfounded and mortified at all this attention on her.

Meanwhile, I have so many thoughts in my head about all this and keep seeing images of Mel as an Iditarod musher which is, in itself amazing and inspiring since the Iditarod is such a male dominated sport. What Mel has always answered when asked why she ran the race: "I just love being out there." To us folks who have called Mel a friend, she is so MUCH more than a musher...

Melanie Gould was one of the first friends I made when I came to Talkeetna about 11 years ago. I may know her about as well as anyone. She is missed and loved and whatever the outcome of this crazy time, I will continue to throw love into the air in hopes it reaches her wherever she is. I don’t have specific stories about Mel. I have a wide, broad picture of a beautiful person, a wonderful smile, incredibly blond hair and fair skin, strong hands and a thoughtful heart. I have a picture of a “doer” who deeply respects other doers – folks, like her, living an Alaska life, striving for independence, self sufficiency, simpler living, connection to nature, and the determination that gets you through every hard day’s work.

Mel and I have been tied to a tree at the edge of the Copper River dip-netting for salmon together. We have cleaned clams in Ninilchik around a campfire until our fingers were numb. She has been my landlord, my massage therapist, my waitress, my co-worker and my friend. I skinny-dipped in the sphagnum pond once with Mel on a hot summer day. She jumped right in, dogs and all, and I had a hard time with the weird spongy uncertainty before the freezing shock of water. Mel held a “wedding sauna” (I’m not a shower kind of a girl) for me at her place. And she sat among my Talkeetna friends and family on a sunny September Sunday when Brian and I exchanged wedding vows in the middle of a grassy field at Brian’s parents’ farm.

I went to every Iditarod Restart that Mel participated in. Except in 2006 when I went to the Official Start in Anchorage. That year, I was 9 months pregnant. One of my first questions after 24 hours of labor with my son laying across my exhausted body on March 15 at about 6:20pm was, “Did Mel cross the finish line yet?” Yes, she had. About 10 minutes ago – her best Iditarod finish. It was as though we were both struggling to get to the finish line while the moon was still full on that Ides of March. Kind of amazingly, Mel was mushing to work at the greenhouses at Birch Creek Ranch this spring and in all the springtime melting mayhem, she managed to give my now 5 year old son Oliver a spin with the team on the hayfields.

Most recently, Mel has been working for me during the tough first years of a new restaurant business. Flying Squirrel Bakery Café just outside of Talkeetna town is the realization of a long time dream for me. Mel has always encouraged me, as a friend and as a lover of delicious, healthful food - to go for it. She was a front counter server for about a year. And for the last few months, she has been a baker-in-training, traipsing to work at 5 in the morning from her cabin up on the hill sometimes by bicycle just for the exercise.

As I have been thinking and thinking about her almost non-stop this week, it has struck me how incredibly good she is at everything she does. Set your mind to it, and you can learn just about anything. And once you learn it, you can always improve. From 64th place in 2000 to 18th in 2006. From front-of-the-house waitress to learning in 2 months how to bake artisan breads in a wood fired oven. Practicing guitar when no one was looking then surprising us all with a strong and unique singing voice one winter at the bar. Remembering so many different flower names at the greenhouse. Always looking for the tightest muscles that need the most work. All while caring for dogs, chopping wood, hauling water, scaring off the bears, and somehow always making it to work even in 20 below. One tough chick that still manages to have a way better hippy-skirt wardrobe than me.

On Sunday, May 29, just before she disappeared, Mel worked at the Squirrel from 5am until noon. She seemed fairly pleased with how her scones, cookies, sandwich breads and bagels came out that day. After work, she walked down the driveway to our house to help Brian put up the rest of the road kill moose we had gotten a week before. She was taking the scraps home for her dogs and just trying to help us out wherever she could. She likes to say she just wants to help me because I work too hard. She left around 4pm tired from a long day. I don’t remember if I said good-bye or thank you. Dang girl, I hope you are ok. I want you to come back so I can tell you to your face that I love you and I thank you for all YOUR hard work.

Flying Squirrel Bakery Cafe Receives New Business Award

2010-11-20T13:57:00.007-09:00

I always thought it was an insult to be called a Cheechako. I guess I was wrong.

Suffice it so say, I was very surprised and honored to receive this year's Cheechako Award from the Mat Su CVB. Talkeetna Chamber of Commerce board member, Kathy Stoltz had hinted that I might want to try to come to the Annual Meeting held yesterday on Friday, December 19, and she stopped in the day after the meeting with the award and a copy of the humbling speech that was presented during the awards ceremony. I truly appreciate the recognition - especially at this challenging time of year for all Talkeetna businesses!

Although I have never seen the Flying Squirrel specifically as a tourist business, I am tickled every time a visitor to Talkeetna either stumbles upon our little cafe in the woods or is told not to miss it (literally and figuratively) by someone they've talked to in Talkeetna, Wasilla or Anchorage.

Taking the leap to open a small business in a small town, especially a food service business, involves so much risk and sacrifice. This award is, well, validating in it's formality and it's intent. Someone besides my sister actually stood up in front of a bunch of people and said, "Wow. Flying Squirrel Bakery Cafe in Talkeetna. Great idea. Go there!" Thanks to Justin at Mat Su CVB for his persistent, friendly and personal salesmanship that persuaded me to become a member just a few months ago! I am sure there are many other new businesses in the Mat Su Borough that are equally deserving of this award for following their own dreams and taking the same leap my family and I did over a year ago. Today, it sure feels worth it. Let me also say simply that this award honors me as an individual, but more so the Squirrel as a business. It might have been my crazy idea to begin with, but I could not and would not be doing it without the unbelievable help and support of the staff and my family.

In my short ten years as an Alaska resident, in my even shorter year and a half as an Alaska business owner, and in my only days-old status as Cheechako Award winner, I can't help but wonder when the term cheechako will no longer be the moniker I wear (now with some pride). Most likely, it's one that melts away like winter snow with hopes for an "easy break-up."

Following is the very nice speech that was read at the awards ceremony, in case you're interested:

CHEECHAKO AWARD

This year's Cheechako Award goes to one of our new members in Talkeetna. Nobody is arguing the fact that Talkeetna has it all. But about a year and a half ago somebody looked at our bustling community and found a unique way to fit in.

It's no secret that good cooking draws a crowd faster than a moose standing in the holiday line at the post office, and this person has culinary skill in abundance. Just see for yourself. As an ace of social media, she shares pictures on Facebook of her tantalizing gourmet masterpieces from her own wood fired oven. You can almost smell the flavor ... almost ...

To really get a nose-full you absolutely must stop by and experience the full effect in person. From the moment you step off of her hiking trails and into her bakery you are greeted by the warm aroma of fresh bread. The variety of delicious, healthy foods from her kitchen will keep you coming back again and again.

Besides, you have to come back to see which local artist is featured on her walls each month. And don't forget to bring the kids out to her Christmas Gingerbread House class! Clearly, this person's involvement in the community has made her a true asset to Talkeetna. She has done a fantastic job in her first year of business and we wish her continuing success into the future. It is my honor to present this award to the proprietor of the Flying Squirrel Bakery Cafe, Anita Golton.

The Sound of Silence

2010-01-29T06:32:00.010-09:00

Ciabatta!

Eight Grain Boules

Good bread crust crackles. Now, finally, mine does too.

Pizza is fun and all, but baking hearty whole grains loaves, baguettes, pitas, even some muffins and cookies in the wood fired brick oven is a pleasure. It is a beautiful thing to see a warm glowing fire radiating it's heat, energy and positive vibrations out into our little world at Flying Squirrel. Even more so though, the hands-on process in its entirety seems drawn out in a good way - many steps, yet simple and somehow very old. Who knows if my Eastern European ancestors ever baked their bread this way, but it all seems familiar and already almost part of the normal routine...

Firewood is split, stacked and dried.
A big raging fire licks red flames over the oven dome eating up the wood - a bit scary how fast.
The coals are spread like a blanket of heat.
The insulated oven door is placed.
A night's rest.
The door is removed, ashes raked out, hearth mopped revealing the hot ready firebricks.
Proofed breads are slid onto the hearth from a wooden peel into the dark.
The sound of silence is the moment - no convection oven fan blowing, just quiet oven spring, brown crust forming, just the right mix of smells.
I check the breads, rotate them, tap the crust, wait.
Breads come out onto wooden racks.
The first slice takes a little effort, and though the outer shell is hard, it is crisp, slightly caramelized and not nearly as thick and tough as the electric convection oven results.
There is still a great deal to learn about the process, the innuendos of fire, brick, yeast, water and air.
But I must say...
I'm having fun!

Thanks to Hannah Silverstein who first introduced me to Alan Scott's book The Bread Builders when it was first published in 1999. It took 10 years of dreaming, but now I am finally living the whole dream.

Pita magic is now even more magical!

What I Did on My Winter Vacation

2010-01-06T17:48:00.023-09:00

Work, of course...

More work.

And more work...mixed with a little fun.

OK. We didn't ONLY do work over the last two weeks....

First, there was a grand party giving thanks to my awesome employees and supportive family during which we all thoroughly enjoyed delicious hand-made wood-fired pizza!

Then, there was a lot of ogling at the incredible full, blue moon.
This was the moon-set on New Year's Day.

And, we even did a three day escape to Anchorage with movies, ice skating, swimming, and...well, shopping (which for me is work). Sorry, no photos from that adventure.

Now, it's back to work. Not surprisingly, I was tired by the end of the break and wouldn't mind another break from the break! But so it goes. There is bread to be baked, new desserts to test (I got three new baking cook books while in town), an oven to finish and spring to look forward to. Happy 2010!

Let There Be Light!

2009-12-20T13:03:00.011-09:00

'Tis the season of chain store advertising inserts that outweigh the actual newspaper, drunken Christmas soirees, cookie-baking hell (ten varieties are currently available here at Flying Squirrel), holly-berries-on-the-corners-of-everything and famous rock musicians on the radio singing covers of old sappy music. I am a self-admitted bah-humbug who can't wait for the craziness that is December to be overwith for a whole new year ahead.

Sometimes I even get depressed about feeling like, for the most part, I am a sugar pusher. I do love to see the joy on little kids faces when they press their noses against the front of the display case pointing to the gingerbread snowman whose head they are about to bite off. And the intense pleasure the kids in the cooking class got from covering gingerbread houses with sickeningly sweet royal icing and artificially-colored-and-flavored gum drops.

In my soul, I would rather just bake hearty, crusty whole grain bread and develop recipes for honey-sweetened bran muffins and gluten-dairy-corn-and-soy-free everything. What's a bakery to do? This time of year, if you're a bakery, you'd better make things rich and sweet, colorful and cheery or you might lose some of your best customers. Yet half of those best customers drop hints of feeling fat from too many holiday temptations or wish their kids could get a handle on the sugar thing while at the same time they choose the Christmas stollen over the whole wheat baguette or the chocolate-peanut butter bar over the kale and scallion cream cheese fresh veggie wrap.

This happens to me every year. The Alaskan winter is long, cold and dark. I don't get outside enough (note to self: add Vitamin D supplements to town list). And now, despite no television, very few visits to the corporate wedlock between Disney and Walmart that is Wasilla, and two rather agnostic parents, my 3 1/2 year old son is still becoming pretty interested in decorating a Christmas tree, not to mention "that guy in the red suit with a big beard." Even if I had the money to be a "snow bird" and fly away from Alaska for a spell, there would be no escaping the holiday overload (another note to self: research future vacation in a warm climate that doesn't celebrate Christmas, any suggestions?).

OK. I'll try to stop.

The good news is that Soltice is upon us. For Alaskans, this is a big deal. In a couple of days we will be headed the other direction - toward warmer temperatures, toward green growing things, toward gardens and local produce, toward summer, toward midnight sun. So, in honor of Solstice and a new year soon to come, here are a few things that do make me happy...

A little light in the darkness.

The light at the end of the tunnel.

Always look on the bright side of life.

Better to light a candle than curse the darkness.

Come on baby light my fire!

I am very excited to sleep for a few days and then, hopefully have some fun away from the bakery. My goals for the time off include snowshoeing, skiing, ice skating, swimming, movies (haven't been to the movies for almost 4 years!), a thrift store or two, some house cleaning, a year's worth of filing, and much needed family time with Brian and Oliver. After all of that, it will be back to normal, PLUS some of this...

MAY YOUR DAYS BE MERRY AND BRIGHT! Happy holidays and happy New Year to all.

Kids in the Kitchen OR Ode to Teachers

2009-11-19T17:12:00.005-09:00

Every Wednesday is a challenge for me here at the bakery. It's my "Monday" since we're closed on Mondays and Tuesdays right now and there is always a lot to do to fill up the display cases and get fresh pastries, breads and savory lunch items out by noon or so. After two days of sleeping in I'm particularly foggy from waking up at 5am. It's also ordering day so I try to look at lists and what's on the shelves to figure out what we need for the next week or so by the 3pm deadline. But the fun doesn't stop there.

The last few Wednesdays have been complete mayhem. Why? Because somehow I got this idea to invite kids into the kitchen! We've already had four weeks of well attended classes and there will be three more after Thanksgiving. The younger ones, ages 5-8 come from 2-3:30 and the older ones, ages 8-12 from 3:30-5. So far we have made creepy Halloween treats, deviled eggs, homemade granola, sourdough corn cakes, and homemade butter. We have also learned about the basics of kitchen safety, nutrition and pioneer cooking.

On Wednesday at 7pm when we close and there is still the floor to mop, there is a small part of me that says NEVER AGAIN! There is also a big part of me that says THANK YOU to all teachers out there because I could never do this every day and I so appreciate those that have the ongoing energy, persistence and enthusiasm it takes to keep kids interested and engaged and somewhat under control.

Of course, there must be some part of me that enjoys it because I already have about 5 more kids classes I have thought about teaching starting in January, plus endless ideas for cooking classes for adults. In fact, despite the hours of preparation, the pushing and shoving, the "it's MY turn to mix" demands, the spills, the noise, the blank stares, and the "eeeeeew, that's yucky" reactions...teaching is really very rewarding.

All of the kids in my cooking classes are coming because they chose to. So, for the most part, they like to cook. They like to learn. They like to participate. Their enthusiasm for certain things is almost contagious. For example, this week in the Pioneer Cooking class, the work of grinding wheat by hand was a challenge to them and each HAD to have a second try at it to see how much flour they could grind (or to see who was the strongest). I have been pleasantly surprised that some are even excited to help clean up!

Inevitably I am left completely exhausted by the end of the day on Wednesday. My feet hurt. My mouth is dry from so much talking. I wonder if the class was clear, helpful, interesting, fun, memorable or just something else to do after school. I start thinking about the next class (Pizza Day) and what I should prepare for hand-outs, how I should divide up the groups, what might be dangerous and what I should make sure each child gets a chance to try. I ask parents for feedback. I thank my staff for putting up with the mayhem. I thank my family for trying to let me go to sleep early.

And, in some delusional state, somewhat secretly, I glance at the calendar and jot down a few ideas: a pie-crust class (watch for this one around Christmas - for adults), a bread sculpture class, a whole grain cooking class, a wood fired oven class, cooking around the world classes...

Sounds like fun, right? Or, is this some kind of masochistic disease? I am incredibly thankful not to have to teach every day - I have never been able to imagine myself homeschooling Oliver or substitute teaching at the local schools. But in a very small way, I can appreciate the addictive qualities teaching has: sharing ideas, getting people excited to try something new, focusing on one concept and learning about it myself in order to teach it, showing someone who wants to learn how to do something they didn't know how to do before.

Somehow, I don't have a graceful way to end this post. Perhaps because by default, teaching and learning have no end. There is and always will be something to new to learn. I must say, it makes these dark, cold winter days seem a little bit brighter.

For more pictures of the kids cooking classes, go here.

Slowly But Surely...Oven Progress!

2009-10-27T16:09:00.007-08:00

It always seems like people in Talkeetna spend a disproportionate amount of time talking about which eating establishments are open when, who's serving what, and how good it is. Even though it seems like there's nowhere except the for the Latitude to eat on Mondays and Tuesdays, even though noone knows when or if Wildflower will be open, even though Mountain High Pizza is having a pretty low winter due to a very unfortunate oil spill incident and even though the Roadhouse isn't doing a Haunted House this Halloween ... life goes on. Everyone figures it out. Everyone finds something to eat or drink. There is still always a burger and a pint to be had somewhere.

As things grow and change however, a burger and a pint doesn't always satisfy. People seem to want something new and exciting, some variety to get them through the doldrums of a long winter. And so, there has been continued, keen interest in the wood fired brick oven progress here at the Flying Squirrel. Well, even before I became a cafe owner, I was always one of those seeking something delicious and new, interesting, mouth watering, different. So, I am happy to say that the oven is really making progress. All of the firebrick hearth and dome are complete and as I write this Brian and two helpers, Terry and JJ are slopping buckets of chunky, gloppy refractory concrete over the top of the oven dome. Hooray! After some cure time we'll be down to insulation and a facade. Hopefully this means finally lighting fires in the thing around Thanksgiving. Maybe, dare I put it in writing, even a grand opening, oven-warming party somewhere at the end of November or beginning of December.

The brick oven will bring breads with a heartier crust, wonderful ambient heat through the coldest time of the year...and, yes, perhaps once a week rustic, wholesome, scrumptious, gourmet pizza. Add yet one more thing to all the other things I have to do. Anyone know a good pizza cook who likes to play with fire?

Anyway, Brian deserves a lot of credit. These days he's less focused on work and building (except when the bakery is closed on Mondays and Tuesdays). Mostly he spends his time trying to fulfill his obligations as a reluctant housewife, Oliver's main caregiver, Farmer Al's substitute potato sorter, outdoor clean-up crew after a year of neglect, and pretty soon: expert wood cutter! We figure during winter, this brick oven will eat a cord of wood a month and in summer maybe double that. The fun never ends around here.

A burger and a pint might just be the thing for such a hard working stay at home dad. Of course, we'll have to go out for that, since there is not a burger to be found at the Flying Squirrel. I wonder where we could get a burger today, anyway....

Two Months

2009-10-16T12:58:00.007-08:00

Flying Squirrel Bakery Cafe opened it's doors only two months ago. Sometimes it feels like I've already been doing this for years.

Two days ago I was reminded of how fast these two months have gone by when local resident Michelle Baker came in to pick up some bread she had reserved. She turned out to be the first person to fill up a bread card and she got a free baguette!

Don't get me wrong, the first dollar was pretty darn special (thanks Esther and Jim!), but the first full bread card is just as, if not more meaningful. It represents a connection that is quickly developing between Flying Squirrel and the great folks that walk through the doors every day, or once a week, or even once a month. People who live in the Talkeetna area are coming back for more. Even better, neighbors are buying locally made bread instead of the grocery store standard. Even better, people like the crusty, whole grain bread with substance that I happen to like making!

Very cool.

Form and Function

2009-09-24T12:23:00.005-08:00

I am ecstatic to see progress being made on our wood fired brick oven. People who come in to Flying Squirrel ask about it all the time - with very frequent questions about pizza (the answer is a qualified yes - we will do pizza in the oven sometimes just for fun because we can and it will be awesome, but we won't become a pizza place - Talkeetna already has one of those...).

Anyway, Brian made the plywood forms a few days ago and got two arches completed on the oven's roof or dome. I always knew this part would impress me.

It's hard not to be impressed with an arch. I grew up in Pennsylvania where arches with a keystone (PA is the "Keystone State") were common over the windows and doorways of many old brick and stone homes. It strikes me as some kind of great magic trick. Like when the magician pulls the tablecloth away and his lovely assistant appears to be floating in mid air.

I also like how bricks depend on one another. That is what makes the whole thing work. Each brick in the arch must have the brick next to it and the brick next to that one and so on in order to be able to support it's own weight and any other weight on top of the whole arch. Symbiosis is what it's called I think. Like a family. Like a community. Brother and sister brick.

Today is one of those days where I worry because things are slow here. It's inevitable I know. We have all this beautiful food and bread and yummy yummy pastries. People who do come in are very happy with the choices, the variety, the atmosphere. And yesterday was a fine day. It's just part of the roller coaster of owning a business, of wintertime in Alaska, of needing to do more marketing, of learning what works and what doesn't.

Generally though, I feel like I and Flying Squirrel are one brick in the arch - especially in the small town of Talkeetna. We all lean on each other, help hold each other up, support the next brick over, but also support the brick way down at the other end. It kind of makes me feel like everything is going to be ok.

Especially when that first crusty bread comes out of the brick oven!

Although there are LOTS of individuals and businesses I wish to thank for their help and support, there are two in particular I am thinking about today in terms of symbiotic relationships... Whole Wheat Radio and the potential future very fun musical endeavors we are talking about trying out here at Flying Squirrel as well as Sunshine Transit, our local free shuttle bus that will hopefully soon make Flying Squirrel a scheduled stop on their route up and down the Spur Road and who has offered to help with deliveries of bread and pastries to sell out at our local grocery store!

Golden Moment

2009-09-20T13:47:00.004-08:00

I have the best commute in the world. I walk about 800 feet from the door of my home to the door of the bakery down a curved gravel driveway that is lined with Alaska's natural beauty: birch and spruce trees, high bush cranberry, slimy now-inedible bolete mushrooms. It's just far enough that I feel like I got outside a tiny bit - enough to see the stars or the moon or the fog. Enough to feel the cold in my lungs or a spot of sunshine on my skin. Enough to see the golden autumn leaves falling from the trees as a bit of wind blows from the south.

At 5:00am, I get to feel the darkness. At 8pm when I go home, it's still light at least for another month or so. We're having an excruciatingly gorgeous autumn this year. I often bemoan how little I get outside when I'm mixing bread dough in the 60 quart Hobart mixer around 8am and I look out the window to see the sun peeking over the treetops. Although I expected to work these long, hard hours, I still miss being outside more. Fortunately my walk down the driveway is just long enough, but also not too long - my feet are as tired if not more-so than my brain at the end of my long day.

Last night, I had a moment. One of those moments that takes your breath away, makes tears well up inside you, is incredibly memorable, and yet is just a short, small moment, gone in a flash. I started my walk home and for some reason I turned around. I saw the sun going down behind the incredible yellow-orange autumn birch treetops. In a way, nothing special. But just glimmering enough, just crisp and clear enough, just the right combination of golden sun and golden leaves and golden air to make me stop and sigh and say to myself - wow. I did it. I achieved my dream. And this place is beautiful. My life is good. Exhausting, but good.

I turned back toward home. A few tears found their way down my cheeks - maybe from total exhaustion, maybe from being overwhelmed by the beauty of my surroundings, maybe from actually allowing myself to acknowledge the accomplishment. I went to look for a camera and couldn't find one. The golden moment passed.

I fell into bed. Woke up to the alarm. Stumbled down the driveway in the dark thinking about that movie Groundhog Day where Bill Murray wakes up to the same day over and over again.

Today, the wind is blowing. All the leaves are falling down. People are coming and going...eating their fritatas and donut muffins and cream of greens soup, taking home a ruggelach, a black brownie, a loaf of pumpernickel, picking up some caffeine for the road.

Does this weather, this season, the music, the smells...does life make any of them cry like me? Or is this golden moment mine alone?

On Scones

2009-09-17T15:40:00.006-08:00

Ms. Jenny Birdsall is back at college now after being incredibly chipper at the front counter even at 7:30 in the morning for the very first month of Flying Squirrel's existence. It was a great relief to me to be able to hire a young Talkeetnan who is not only smart, friendly AND responsible, but who also already had several years of barista experience under her belt.

And one more thing about Jenny. She had something to say about scones.

Lucky for me, everything she had to say about MY scones was RIGHT ON! Biggest 20-year-old compliment I have ever gotten: "Your scones remind me of the ones I had when I was in England..." I made her favorite flavor for her departure and she flew back to Oregon with two apricot scones in a little brown bag. Well, I can't say that I know if the scones made it all the way from Talkeetna the whole 120 miles to the airport.

You have to be in the mood for a scone. I think Jen and I agree that they should be not too sweet, not too wet, almost dry but not quite, not a biscuit and not a muffin, but somewhere in between. And they should have just a little touch of smartness from a bit of fruit or nuts or ginger. Perfect with hot tea or chai.

All of us at Flying Squirrel look forward to Jenny's return (I think she'll be filling in during her winter break) and wish her well at college. Personally, I have been trying to drop all the hints that I can toward next year's senior project being a solo photography show at the Flying Squirrel! Thanks again, Jen.

Grain for the Brain - a schedule of breads

2009-09-07T13:29:00.003-08:00

A little easier for me and a lot better for you. There have already been requests for a bread schedule at Flying Squirrel so you can be sure to come in for your favorites. It certainly will evolve since I have been really wanting to make a whole wheat cinnamon raisin swirl bread and I can't figure out where to fit it in.I am posting this bread schedule on the Flying Squirrel website (along with descriptions and ingredients), on the side bar of this blog and at the cafe. Don't forget to pick up a business card the next time you come in because there is a bread punch card on the back. No one has filled one up yet, but I think there are a few regulars who are getting close! Brian has started working on the wood fired brick oven construction again, so hopefully we are only a month away from bread with MUCH better crust.

Sunday
Whole Wheat Baguettes
Whole Wheat Pita
Pumpernickel

Monday Closed

Tuesday (until October, then closed on Tuesdays)
Whole Wheat Baguettes
Whole Wheat Pita
Molasses Multigrain Sandwich Loaf

Wednesday
Light Wheat Ciabatta
Eight Grain Boule

Thursday
Italian Baguettes
Sunshine Sourdough Sandwich Loaf

Friday
Whole Wheat Baguettes
Whole Wheat Pita
Light Wheat Challah

Saturday
Ciabatta
Spent Grain Boule

Foofy-ness

2009-09-01T13:56:00.011-08:00

I am not a very foofy person. I don't wear make up. I shave my legs and underarms maybe twice a year. I don't mind wearing shirts with stains on them. And I am ok with some amount of dirt and bacteria in my life and in the life of my three year old...in fact, I think most American's are lacking in bacteria these days. We have a big mess outside around our house - broken bicycles, sopping wet cardboard boxes full of glass bottles that can't be recycled in Anchorage anymore, blue tarps over uncut firewood piles, last year's dead hanging baskets. I'm OK with all of that. I can live without running water if I need to and sometimes wish for the days when I occupied a cabin instead of a house.

However, evidently, I have a foofy side as well.

I find myself caring more than I ever thought I would about everything in the cafe being put away in it's place. About the floor being mopped the right way. About the color of the grout between the bricks on the facade of the under-construction wood fired oven.

And, given the right motivation, (such as customers who are willing to pay), I can do foofy with the best of them. Not that I am trying to advertise my services, but here are a few photos of the foofy things I can do! Special occasion cakes, pastries and party platters are available at Flying Squirrel Bakery Cafe with advanced notice. Stop in, give us a call, or e-mail to find out more.

Vanilla sponge cake soaked in raspberry liqueur with white chocolate cream cheese frosting, a bittersweet ganache border and autumn leaves and berries. For Alice at Talkeetna B&B's grandson's wedding.

We closed the place two hours early on Saturday for K2 Aviation's end of the year staff party (so sorry to those that didn't know and tried to come for dinner that evening - I don't think this will be a regular thing). I made mini cupcakes with fresh berries on top of the chocolate ones. My talented cook Tasja pulled together wonderful Mediterranean entrees including Moussaka which will be appearing in the cold case in the future. I wish I had photographed the antipasto appetizer platter filled with colorful roasted veggies.

Sometimes being foofy is kind of fun.

Week One

2009-08-21T20:18:00.008-08:00

What an incredible week. I am not surprisingly exhausted. Otherwise, I really can't complain. I have reached a monumental goal in my life and have finally been DOING IT instead of planning it and building it and talking about it. Here are a few photos from week one.

Day One. It actually looks like a real busy functioning cafe! Yippee...

Brian surprised me with a phone call to an old friend midway during the first day. The old friend was also the most influential employer I've ever had in my life and one of the inspirations for my bakery cafe concept. Maybe Avery will visit here one day and see the offspring of his amazing creation, Zabby's Stone Soup in Burlington, Vermont.

Even Oliver is happy that the bakery is open. This week his dad finally took over as primary caregiver and took Oliver fishing, canoeing, to the playground and brought him to the bakery to enjoy a scone and a glass of milk!

Every Friday I will make the rich, tender traditional Sabbath bread called Challah. It makes the BEST french toast, looks beautiful and I even snuck in a little whole wheat flour, just for Esther. I made 20 of them today and only three were left at the end of the day. I have a feeling there might be a reservation list for these in the future. Challah is not only a tangible connection to my Jewish upbringing but also to my roots at Stone Soup where Avery was (and still is) the Challah baker.

"hamozti lechem min ha aretz..."
blessed art thou who brings forth bread from the earth....

It makes me thankful for everything. For rain and sun that grow the wheat. For modern civilization that brings the wheat to my door. For my health and my hands that shape the loaves. For my family and friends and neighbors that walk through the doors of Flying Squirrel and say, "WOW. It's beautiful. Congratulations."

Amen.

Ready...Set....

2009-08-15T04:48:00.005-08:00

GO.

Good thing my mom taught Oliver to spell O...P...E...N...

Flying Squirrel Bakery Cafe is now OPEN!!!
Tuesdays - Sundays
7:30am-7pm

THANKS TO SO SO SO MANY FOR ALL THE HELP AND SUPPORT.
Come on in and get a bite to eat.

A Little Birdie Told Me a Rumor...

2009-08-13T15:12:00.006-08:00

Pssst. Hey you...

Someone told me that something's cooking at Flying Squirrel Bakery Cafe. Come see and taste and smell for yourself.

We will finally be opening on Saturday, August 15!

Pass it on.

Angels

2009-07-29T16:49:00.007-08:00

Here are a couple of the definitions of "angel" as found on dictionary.com:

- a person having qualities generally attributed to an angel, as beauty, purity, or kindliness.
- a person whose actions and thoughts are consistently virtuous.
- an attendant or guardian spirit.

I have had several attendants of late to whom I owe a very large debt of gratitude.

One, René, I am looking forward to having around the kitchen at Flying Squirrel. She has been helping out in amazing ways: keeping the production line going at the new Flying Squirrel Cabinet Shop that has taken over the dining area, cleaning up all the dirt that keeps getting tracked into the kitchen when I am not around to do it, and keeping our spirits up with background music and smoky little cowboy coffee fires in the parking lot.

It can be so incredibly difficult to ask for help when you need it the most. I have been getting pretty good at it lately. In fact, if anyone wants to join in a work party cleaning day, you can come to the bakery on Sunday between 11 am and 4 pm so I will really feel surrounded by angels!

Several months ago it became clear that Brian and I were losing all of our time for household chores, cooking healthful meals, playing with Oliver, doing laundry etc. So, can you guess who I called for help?

The other angel is no less than my own mother.

The irony in asking my mother for help particularly is that I have recently made the acquaintance of a 21 year old apprentice baker who has hopes of learning something from the likes of me. Upon his arrival from his home in Arizona, I detected several very obvious things about him right away. One, his enthusiasm for participating in our project. Two, his elation at discovering this wild, amazing, unusual and eye opening place called Alaska. And three, his quiet but discernible eye rolling and inner angst regarding the presence of his parents. I distinctly remember this time in my life (don't worry parents of young adults, evidently it will pass). I'm pretty sure my mother remembers it too.

So, here I am, twenty or so years later and not two days ago, weak tears of sadness flowed freely from my exhausted eyes when I had to drop off my mother at the airport, sending her back to Philadelphia after three weeks of cooking and cleaning in my house, carting around and entertaining my son, and even staining a few pieces of trim here and there. Truly, I don't know what we would have done without her. I think even crusty old Brian said a hearty "thanks and come back any time"! She gave it her all and hardly complained except to say that she was worried about me working too hard and that my poor dad sacrificed an awful lot for her to come.

And all I can do is say thank you which doesn't seem nearly enough. Well, at least she got a little tipsy on a few glasses of wine on her last day. And I know she thoroughly enjoyed spending time with her grandson. And I think somewhere deep in her heart she knows that all those things I said when I was in my late teens and early twenties have been washed away and the true appreciation and love that I feel for my mother (maybe even all mothers) is as genuine and real as it ever will be.

I love you Mom! Next time you come, I promise some fresh caught fish on your dinner plate!

Dropping Acid

2009-07-17T11:03:00.003-08:00

It's been a relatively innocent 40 years for me. I've never smoked a cigarette in my life. I drank my first beer at 25 and my first cup of coffee at 29. I'm all for tempered experimentation and enjoy the pleasures of beer and wine, even an occasional joint shared among friends. But I will admit that I have never tried mushrooms, acid, cocaine, meth or any other mind-altering drugs. So, in the stress and mayhem of trying to push forward with this constantly challenging building and business project, I decided what the heck...maybe it will take the edge off.

Several hundred dollars and several evenings later, it's done. The acid has been dropped. And even though it wasn't a totally smooth ride, if I had to do it all over again, I think I would go for it. Pretty satisfying results in the end - kind of swirly, kind of wild, kind of dark, kind of funky, kind of sexy, a little red, brown and gold, I'd almost say psychedelic.

Dude.

Just to clarify, the acid in this case was acid stain on the concrete floor of the dining area at the bakery!

Expression

2009-07-05T09:13:00.004-08:00

Flying Squirrel Bakery Cafe, when it opens it's doors hopefully by August 1, will be a reflection of me. It is the culmination of my dreams and the result of a year plus of blood, sweat and tears with many sacrifices made by my family, especially Brian who works so hard and really needs a break. I am excited for the place to take shape and I know that it will evolve based not only on my vision, but on what customers want it to be and what my employees make of it.

A few things are finally seeming finished or almost finished.

The outside of the building has been looking great for several months already. Cove base and trim are starting to give the inside a satisfying crispy completeness. I think we are at about 75% on the electrical hard wiring and are very happy to see the spider web of extension cords and gang boxes we have been tripping over all winter go away! Mechanical contractors were here last week installing the hood, make up air and duct work - I think they are probably 75% complete also. The floor in the kitchen is finished. And, perhaps topping the satisfaction meter is all the painting. I give painting a 90% completion rating and boy, am I glad! (I still have to do the dreaded polyurethane-ing of the window and door trim and a little more sign painting.)

Not every wall I painted was a great success. One bathroom wall has at least 4 layers of paint on it I think representing 3 attempts at a good looking result. But I am feeling quite proud of the paint job overall. People who come in to work or talk to us for one reason or another have had the most wonderful reactions, my favorite of which was that it feels very Mediterranean. Next to the whole grain crusty breads and rich and tasty pastries I plan to peddle, I think the walls of Flying Squirrel are where the "reflection of me" will shine the most. Partly because I tried to do something with the space that is unique, fun, colorful, artistic, a little classy, and a little funky.

But also, because I am excited to turn those walls over to other artists to show their work. It will be hard to see the first picture hangars leave their marks on these fresh clean walls. Oh well. I am looking forward to the sharing of ideas, creativity, and artistic expression both through food and through allowing artists the opportunity to show and sell their work on the walls of Flying Squirrel.

I have already organized the first show, "Women of the Cloth" a group exhibition of 5 local fiber artists (who also happen to be very supportive friends!). Assuming all goes well this month and we open the doors for business by August 1, there will be an art opening on the Second Saturday in August from 4-7pm. Hopefully this will be a monthly art opening event at the Flying Squirrel. If you are an artist or know an artist that would like to show two dimensional work, please contact me! Below is the announcement about it, please pass it on.

I guess I have to give a little nod to the fact that yesterday was Independence Day. It gets me thinking just a tiny bit about those guys philosophizing our futures way back when around candle light in a brick tavern in Philadelphia. Little did they know where that freedom of speech line in the Constitution would lead. Here's to personal expression....

Art Show Opportunity
Flying Squirrel Bakery Cafe extends an enthusiastic welcome to artists, photographers, and craftspeople to hang original, quality, professionally displayed, interesting and unique art on a revolving monthly basis. Only two dimensional work can be accepted. An art opening event will be coordinated for the second Saturday of each month to coincide with Talkeetna Artist Guild/Sheldon Community Arts Hangar openings.

Artists will be responsible for hanging and taking down their work. All work must be framed or otherwise prepared for professional display and hung with appropriate hardware. Artists will also be expected to provide their own publicity (posters, radio announcements, e-mails, labels/prices for each piece, etc.). The dining area, entryway and bathrooms at Flying Squirrel will all have space for art work - 6-12 pieces would most likely be appropriate depending on size. Art work sold through Flying Squirrel Bakery Cafe will incur a small commission to cover costs such as wall patching, credit card costs, etc.

Contact Anita at info@flyingsquirrelcafe.com if you are interested in coordinating a show of your work. Please provide samples of the work you would like to display and a short statement of interest.

Brian's 2009 Climb

2009-06-28T10:41:00.008-08:00

Well, OK. He didn't climb Denali. But at least Brian got to wear his crampons once this year.

After about 3 days of prep work (grinding, then acid etching, then cleaning and drying), we painted the kitchen floor last night with a 2-part epoxy paint. When the first coat was down, Brian donned his crampons to walk over the floor sprinkling silica sand all around the traffic areas. This should help prevent the concrete floor from becoming slippery when wet. Today we will put on the second coat. Once it dries, we finally get to move all the equipment to permanent locations in the kitchen!

Believe It or Not

2009-06-15T22:04:00.002-08:00

I remember thunderstorms as a normal part of my childhood in Pennsylvania. Here in Talkeetna, dramatic summer storms pass through maybe once or twice a year at most. This one today was brief, but came with good old fashioned rumbles of thunder, claps of lightening and hard rain.

At about 5:15pm there was a huge flash and crack, then immediately afterward loud thunder...no time to count how far away it was. I was in the bakery with one worker. Brian was just leaving to go pick up Oliver from day care. Penny came running in from outside all shaking and pretty frightened.

An hour later I needed to fill a bucket of water for some painting clean up which we can now do from a spigot in the mechanical room. Brian told me to plug in the well pump. To make the rest of the story very short, there was a sort of "KA-POW!" with a big scary flash of light.

Best we can figure so far, yes, believe it or not, our well must have been struck by lightening.

Maybe someone can explain to me the whole "grounding" thing because as far as I know the well itself is a darn good ground and there are several rather expensive long copper rods in the ground for all the electrical everything on our property - not to mention that I thought the whole purpose of circuit breakers is to break off power to electrical devices before they explode. So much for the $500 well pump - hopefully it will be covered under warranty.

This is the moment at which my lovely mother would say, "If I do not laugh, I will cry."

We're thinking about purchasing a nice surge protector for our NEXT well pump. Just to be on the safe side. Go figure.

Madness

2009-06-13T20:15:00.008-08:00

Well, in the last couple of weeks a lot has happened.

At the same time, our circumstances necessitate the retort that in the last couple of weeks not enough has happened at all because, alas, Flying Squirrel is still not open.

But here is a progress report anyway:

I turned 40. Best part about the low key construction waste bonfire/potluck we had in my honor was: I brought home a 5 gallon bucket full of full bottles of wine. In fact, as I write this I am enjoying my second glass of the bottle pictured here on an empty stomach and I am feeling better every second. My friends hit the nail on the head with their generous gift giving. A glass of wine every night until the opening might just get me through the madness.
The oven hearth is complete. Brian is now working on the oven walls and finally today found someone to weld a custom piece for where the hearth will meet the doorway apron, but it will probably take a week.
I have been painting some every day. The dining area is about 1/3 of the way painted and right now fits right in with the madness theme: mustard yellow walls with pepto-bismol pink painted wainscott. Photos coming soon. Don't worry, painting is a process. I hope to never see pepto pink anything once Flying Squirrel is open for business!
Haven't been able to find the camera for about 4 days.
Electricity is ready to turn on. We have to wait for the electrician to contact the electrical inspector, then for the inspector to approve, then for the inspector to contact the electric company, then up to two weeks for the electric company to come out and turn us on. Just figured out this ridiculousness on Friday. Heads might roll on Monday.
Our sweet dog Penny got too close to a moving car on our driveway and managed to get her foot under a tire. She got very lucky and is ok, but is pretty gimped up this week and quite stir crazy being stuck inside so much.
Most kitchen equipment and furniture has been purchased and is here. I found a dough divider which might save a lot of time cutting and weighing hamburger buns for local restaurants, or it might just be a 500 pound beast of a dinosaur and a waste of a thousand bucks. Still need to find some annoying items like freezers and a washer/dryer. Maybe a funky couch or two. Right now, in the madness, I am thinking red. Red couch. Or maybe black.
Two wonderful people have agreed to come up to Alaska to help us with child care and whatever else during the madness. No, make that one. Never mind: two. ARGH - Back to one again! At this point, I called my mother. So, two. Definitely two. THANKS IN ADVANCE AMY AND MOM - I can't wait!

Despite the constant madness*, the fact that every time we turn around someone wants another $5000 from us, and how we watch all the summer traffic of cars and bicycles passing by everyday, the opening of Flying Squirrel Bakery Cafe does seem imminent. If only I had an answer to that burning question I hear at least twice a day...WHEN?

*I do use this term affectionately. I believe that a lot of greatness comes from madness. Also, I do not at all mean it as it defines anger, more a frenzied craziness.

Climbing Mountains

2009-05-30T11:06:00.004-08:00

This is the time of year in Talkeetna when it seems like everyone is climbing mountains. Something like 1000 people a year attempt to climb Mount McKinley, or Denali as it is more commonly known in Alaska. Most of those climbers start out from Talkeetna, flying in small airplanes to base camp at 7,200 feet. I believe the average success rate for reaching the 23,000 foot highest peak in North America is around 50%.

Personally, I have no interest in climbing mountains of this sort and just don't really get it. However, I have been to the tops of many smaller ones, both literally and figuratively. The one I am trying to climb right now seems monumental.

To Oliver, every hill, pile of rocks or sand, snow berm, or grassy slope is a mountain. This month I am feeling quite sure that he is absolutely right.

The Front Door

2009-05-13T21:32:00.007-08:00

Flying Squirrel Bakery Cafe. Come on in. Well, not just yet. But at least now we have a front door.

Doors are good; they keep mosquitoes out. Hopefully soon I'll have time to paint this door brown or really any color other than primer white! Throughout this whole construction project no one has ever used the front door. Thus the wheel barrow's parking spot I guess. To me, it looks like the wheel barrow is about to walk right in though. It almost looks like it's waiting for the open sign to light up. Me too.

Certainly Spring

2009-05-09T21:59:00.003-08:00

It may only last one day in Alaska, but most certainly, today is spring. By next week, these new little leaves will be fully grown and a definitive, robust, summery green. If only some other life endeavors could happen with such confident swiftness.

Milestones

2009-05-05T14:58:00.008-08:00

It seems like almost everyday there is a milestone around here. But some milestones hold more significance than others, like pouring the concrete slab for the wood fired masonry oven. These photos from last week demonstrate that strange human need to put our mark on everything. A little like Oliver's new found need to pull down his pants and pee on the snow bank or on a specific stick, but quite a bit more permanent! The hand prints look really cool - Oliver's in the middle, then mine, then Brian's on the outside - with two paw prints from Penny. Stop by Flying Squirrel Bakery Cafe sometime and check it out. The hand prints will be able to be seen by anyone who sits at the counter near the oven right by the ash door.

Shrinking

2009-05-04T16:38:00.005-08:00

Wow. There was so much snow one week ago. Four or five days of 65 and sunny, and it seems like most of it has disappeared. The good news about that is that there is a kind of electricity in the air, a new found energy that comes with bicycles being pulled out of crawl spaces and sunshine at 9:00pm. The other great news is that the three rather large lakes that were becoming major obstacles in our driveway shrank to mere puddles in the course of one day. Oliver is still, however, going through at least two sets of clothes per day.

Another kind of shrinking has been occurring over at the bakery construction site.

Anyone who has ever built or renovated a house knows all about this one. We had this amazing, big, open, brightly lit space. Then came the sheet rock. Then came the interior walls. Now, it's starting to feel a bit like a cave. Especially what with the drab gray of the wall board and the white streaks of fire taping that's covering up even the most interesting screw pattern. Now, instead of being blinded when we walk outside because the snow is so bright, we are blinded by the dimness when we go in.

Oh well. It may seem smaller inside, but interior walls also mean that plumbers and electricians can come which means pretty soon we'll have water, telephones, lights...camera...action!

Things Are Looking Up!

2009-04-23T16:23:00.012-08:00

I knew that once we had a floor, everything would start to move forward a bit more quickly. This week Oliver started wanting to go watch the action more than he has in the past. I think the space feels more comfortable somehow; he can bring a snack and watch the work going on without being in the way. Occasionally he can even help!

Mostly he has been looking up at the ceiling though, as the sheet rock lid goes up.

It's very exciting to see the great cover up of ugly, itchy insulation, vapor barrier and stripes of "black death" (acoustical tile sealant - best tip here if you're ever covered in the stuff is Pam cooking spray to get it off!). Sometimes it seems like you're in a giant bath tub until the neutral and comparatively clean dry wall makes it all disappear.

Everyone's rockin' out to heavy metal music thanks to Dave (don't worry potential future customers, when Flying Squirrel opens we will be playing a fun and varied selection of music, some of it from independent artists via Whole Wheat Radio - but not much heavy metal).

Despite today's cold, damp, rainy gray, Flying Squirrel Bakery Cafe is a happenin' place. Pretty much, that's been the goal all along and it's very very cool to actually start feeling that. As I've always known, it's the people inside that are making it happen who make it a happenin' place.

Floored.

2009-04-16T19:58:00.005-08:00

I just looked up the definition of "to floor" on dictionary.com. I must admit I was a little surprised at the definitions listed under the verb tense of the word.

–verb (used with object)
15. to cover or furnish with a floor.
16. to bring down to the floor or ground; knock down: He floored his opponent with one blow.
17. to overwhelm; defeat.
18. to confound or puzzle; nonplus: I was floored by the problem.

None of these definitions describe today's experience of being "floored"...all of them seem too negative. We, particularly Brian, have been working incredibly hard for 8 months on a seemingly monumental project - building a commercial restaurant facility from the ground up. We started in August, clearing trees, and finally, today, I feel floored.

It was a great day. Smooth. Three different entities drove up from the "lower valley".... Klondike Concrete with four concrete trucks (it was supposed to be three, but DOT imposed spring road restrictions on state roads just yesterday). McKinley Concrete Pumping. And the finishers from the combined team of Valley Masonry and Iditarod Masonry.

When I say we were floored, I mean it literally and figuratively. These guys must be the best of the best north of Anchorage. They were here at 8am and some of them are still here as I write this making sure it's darn near perfect...the floor. Yes, we have a floor!

It seems huge to me. After months and months of a building shell with snow, then dirt and ditches and drain pipes, the smooth, hard, clean and finished (well, not quite) concrete floor is a major milestone. It feels to me like Flying Squirrel Bakery Cafe is so much more imminent now that we can put things in there that won't have to be moved out again.

I think I would add this definition to dictionary.com's verb list for "to floor:"

19. To amaze; to overwhelm with surprise or sudden wonder: I was floored by the fantastic experience we had today when our concrete floor was poured.

If only every contractor experience was like this one. We'd be writing more checks, employing more small businesses, and, perhaps, taking a day off once in awhile like we plan to do on Saturday.

Order & Chaos

2009-04-15T15:22:00.010-08:00

Order. Neat lines and patterns. Red = Dining area in floor heat. Blue = Foam insulation. Brown = Steel reinforcing bar for concrete slab. Concrete floor will be poured tomorrow! Sometimes order feels good.

Chaos. After a week on the east coast with Oliver where magnolias and daffodils were in full bloom, we returned to this. Mush. Mess. Melt. Anything that's been under the snow for four months is rearing it's ugly head. It's unpredictable whether or not any given vehicle will make it to it's final destination during break up. Chaos has it's virtues, but is not exactly what I need right now.

Order. Even in order there is chaos. There is something to be said for straight lines, but the combination of form and function in our siding makes me happy. Wood has personality, personality means some amount of chaos. But there is definitely order in the accomplishment and finished-ness of a siding job completed.

Chaos. Sometimes it seems impossible to accomplish any order without a lot of chaos first. Concrete coming inside means everything inside gets kicked outside (can you find the dog's moose leg bone?). It's a miracle that anyone can find a pencil or a tape measure when they need one! But, believe it or not, this mess represents serious progress.... Onward!

In and Out

2009-04-03T15:07:00.014-08:00

Here is a selection of photos from the past few weeks. There is much talk involving inside and outside. Community members now constantly ask me about our progress since they can now clearly see the activity as they drive by - including the tree thinning that was done along the road and the gorgeous Alaskan spruce siding that is going up on the building. On the outside, things are seeming bright with more sunlight everyday making it hard to eat dinner before 8pm. Inside still feels dark and damp. Like a cave.

It seems like we are constantly moving items from inside to outside and from outside to in. Clean fill going in. Rocks going out. Water going in. Rocks going out. Siding going in. Siding coming out. Equipment and supplies lining up outside in tents, inside our house, out at the farm, waiting to come in. Winter going out. Spring coming in. Moose hanging out outside. Moose hanging inside. Moose inside out. Bills coming in. Checks going out. Nervousness going in. Forms and paperwork going out. And, most dramatically, lava and ash coming out...

I thank my lucky stars that most of the time I think I'm pretty good at going with the flow.

Mount Redoubt image courtesy of James Isaak.

Spring Equinox

2009-03-20T20:25:00.006-08:00

In honor of spring, we cut down many of the trees along the road in hopes that passersby will start to watch our progress. I made a quick sign which looks great in this photo, but is still pretty hard to see from the road. More trees will have to be sacrificed for the exposure. It's really a tricky balance. I have always wanted the cafe to feel out of town, peaceful, in the woods. But I won't be in business very long if no one can see the place to even know it's open. At least all of the wood will be put to good use in the wood-fired masonry oven that will bake most of the bread at the Flying Squirrel.

Meanwhile, spring was also ushered in with a middle of the night phone call saying our name came up on the moose roadkill list.

This is a mixed blessing. Moose butchering is probably not how we should be spending our free time right now (what free time?). Yet, how wonderful to have meat that is fresh, healthy, appreciatively salvaged, and that Oliver can eat on his special elimination diet. Brian cooked some of the heart for dinner. Oliver kept saying, "More moose guts please!" He must need the vitamin B. I kept saying, "Thanks, Moose." Brian kept saying, "Yum...mmm...mmm...yum."

The third happening worthy of note this spring equinox, besides Talkeetna's annual Oosik Classic ski race (I just finished preparing almost 500 dessert bars for the banquet - boy am I looking forward to a real kitchen), is that the White House lawn WILL in fact sport a garden this summer! Read an article about it here. Hooray and happy spring! Finally.

Blank Stare

2009-03-17T16:06:00.003-08:00

Blank stare. Cough, cough. Blank stare. Cough. Cough. (Yes, I finally got some version of the crud that has been going around town).

That's all.

It's that kind of a week.

I was feeling like I needed to update the world on the progress here at Flying Squirrel central. But I just can't find anything substantive to say. Don't get me wrong. The project is progressing. And the sense of anticipation for the opening of the cafe is getting pretty palpable around our house, and I hope in the community of Talkeetna as well. Spring Equinox is full of anticipation of all kinds in Alaska.

Last night, Oliver was bawling his head off because he was having difficulty getting his dinner to stay on his fork as it made the journey from plate to mouth.

Through his tears we heard him cry over and over, "I can't stab it very well!" His frustration was intense, as was ours, as we just couldn't convince him that it was all going to be OK.

Neither Brian nor I am bawling yet. But I think we both feel this week like "we can't stab it very well." Or at the very least, that many of the pieces we are trying to pick up fall back onto the plate several times before getting to where they need to go. Like Oliver, frustration over one forkful or two or three forkfuls can totally blind us to the bigger picture.

Meanwhile, what happens when things get overwhelming or frustrating? What happens when you (or your three year old) just don't like the answers you get to your seemingly very important questions?

Blank stare. Cough, cough. Blank stare.

Cheap Labor OR How We Conned Our Parents into Helping Us

2009-03-04T21:35:00.007-09:00

Yes, it's a family affair here at the Flying Squirrel Bakery Cafe. Every step of the way. Brian and I are both very lucky to still have both sets of our parents actively in our lives and even luckier that they are supportive and encouraging of all of our crazy ideas. OK, not ALL of our crazy ideas. But this cafe project certainly wouldn't be possible without all four of them in so many different ways, not the least of which was bringing both of us into this world in the first place.

Example number one: Brian's parents asked if they could do anything to help. We said, "Sure!" And here they are, for three days, cleaning, brushing, carrying, and staining boards in preparation for siding the cafe. It was difficult to resist asking for them to help with this particular task since we remember what an excellent job they did on prepping the siding for our own house last winter.

At the end of their 4-5 hour shift over at our project, they go home to Birch Creek Ranch and water all the starts in the plant room, clear snow, prepare for the summer growing season, and try, in vain I think, to act like retired people. I do envy the frequent afternoon naps they tend to enjoy, but the rest is most certainly well deserved.

Thanks does not begin to describe how grateful I feel to both Brian's parents and my own for helping us to achieve our goals.I look forward to handing each one of them their first free loaf of bread!

Planting the Seed

2009-02-23T22:37:00.005-09:00

Spring is just a tiny bit in the air around here. Sure, it's still below 30 every day. Yes, everyone is hopeful that there are at least two more months of good skiing left. And yes, there was beautiful, prickly looking frost on every little branch two days ago. But look at that cottonwood bud! It is waiting to burst. That plant is working so hard on the inside to be ready when the time comes. And it's coming. It'll be here before we know it. This is exactly what it feels like to watch the construction of the cafe.

I talked with my mother-in-law, Leilani Kingsbury today. She and "Grandpa Al" (his name has evolved recently from the more commonly known "Farmer Al") own and operate Birch Creek Ranch. They are the hardest working retired people I have ever met. Anyway, we discussed herbs and vegetables and berries that I hope to procure for use at the Flying Squirrel beginning this summer. She's pulling out her seeds and making her lists and preparing the greenhouses and organizing tags and within a few weeks we'll go over there and step out of the cold and into a mini oasis of little green growing things.

I am planting seeds as well. Little seeds in the minds of friends, family, acquaintances, and hopefully total strangers...can't wait for the seeds to sprout and reach out for their nourishment in the form of bread, pastries, yummy deli salads, casseroles, and a tall, cool, summery glass of home grown rhubarb-ade...

Please spread the word. Here is a link to the new website I posted today for Flying Squirrel Bakery Cafe. I will give a free cup of coffee to the first person who finds a typo (even if it is my mother)!

www.flyingsquirrelcafe.com

Bits and Pieces

2009-02-22T20:16:00.007-09:00

Much has been going on inside and outside the bakery in the last couple of weeks. Finally we've had some great weather (anything between 5 and 25 degrees above zero is considered great). I get pretty darned excited when there is a lot of activity going on, despite the fact that lots of activity also means lots of check writing.

Windows are in. Insulation and vapor barrier are 3/4 of the way completed (more on that in a moment). Dave and Murray have been working on soffits and fascia outside along the eaves. The electricians have begun some of the wiring that needs to get buried in the walls. The plumber came and marked out the drain waste lines on the dirt floor which has been thawing out now that we can keep the place somewhat warm inside with a temporary heater. Big trenches are being dug where the drain waste plumbing will get installed. Brian is picking up the siding on Tuesday.

Of course, nothing feels finished. Bits and pieces of so many different parts of the project are going on at once that my head spins just thinking about it.

Yesterday, a quiet Saturday, I walked down to the cafe to check the heater. As I walked in through the doorway that is covered with a big plastic sheet, I almost tripped over three giant bags of fiberglass insulation scraps. I have known Brian, my husband and conductor of the construction of this crazy project for almost 10 years. I've worked with him on many construction endeavors including our cabin which later became our house, and a sauna, the "bunkhouse", and his shop all at his parent's farm. This bakery building is the first project in those 10 years where I wasn't the one actually picking up all those bits and pieces of scrap insulation and putting them in bags. I once even donned a tyvek insulation suit while eight months pregnant with Oliver. I looked and felt like a giant marshmallow, but at least I was doing something! This is the first time I haven't been a major contributor to the "cheap labor" part of the equation (not that it's really that cheap). I've been consumed with watching Oliver, doing graphic design work when it comes along, and chasing bakery details of the telephone and e-mail variety. My bits and pieces are spread all over my desk.

I guess I should be thankful. Fiberglass insulation work is really not much fun. So just a quick hats off...or hoods, dust masks, and safety glasses off...to Kris Perry. He has been a huge help this winter and did the majority of the insulation work these last few weeks. He's headed to some even colder, darker place down in Antarctica pretty soon, crazy guy. It was likely this project that drove him to it. He was probably starting to feel like he was living in a padded cell here at the Flying Squirrel. That's what it looks like right now! Anyway, thanks Kris, for sparing me the insulation job this round. I'm sure I'll be called on to help with many other bits and pieces of the actual labor on this project before it's all said and done...especially now that you're gone. Drywall screws and paint rollers, here I come.

No Brainer

2009-02-16T10:07:00.004-09:00

Here's something easy and light-hearted - for a change! Simply click this link to sign a petition which will be sent to the White House in support of creating an organic victory garden on a portion of the White House lawn. Some of the food produced would be consumed by the first family and the rest would be donated to local food banks. There has even been an effort on a different site to help choose a White House Farmer (just like there's a White House Chef). What better way to show the world that locally produced food is one simple and obvious answer to many of our health, fuel, food, agricultural, and economic issues.

Sign the Petition - Eat the View:
The White House Organic Garden Campaign

A Bowl of Roses

2009-02-13T21:15:00.013-09:00

Ups and downs are an expected part of everyone's life. "Life is not a bowl of roses," my mother would say. I have always loved that she mixes that one up. Life is not a bowl of cherries. Every rose has it's thorn. Don't forget to stop and smell the roses. Something like that. But "life is not a bowl of roses" is appropriate for Valentine's Day and somehow fits my mood.

Of course, even more dramatic ups and downs are an expected part of any sizable construction project. And any new business venture. And all the excitement that comes with trying to understand two year old logic. We are doing all of those at once. And there most certainly are plenty of ups and downs. Some more steep and jagged than others.

The ups and downs this week really seem quite curvy though (again somewhat appropriate for Valentine's Day).

Many moods, including mine, have curved upward a little as the temperatures have risen into the twenties and mere existence has gotten much more comfortable. I find it encouraging to see work on the bakery moving faster. The literal and figurative fog seems to have lifted as we no longer freeze our eyelashes with our own exhalations.

The curve dropped down pretty significantly a few days ago with the news of Talkeetna's iconic 74 year old bicycle riding airplane mechanic health nut world traveler Mike Fisher slipped away after a several month decline from prostate cancer. He was my friend and a most adamant supporter of this dream to build a bakery cafe outside of town. He was always looking forward to riding his bike for a cup of coffee and a loaf of good bread. I did get to say a small goodbye and thank you in my way, but am deeply saddened that he will never sit at the cafe counter, reading the newspaper and talking my ear off for hours on end.

I had one evening with an upward curve this week, enjoying good company, good libations, and great music when I went (sans my family for a change) to hear Natalia Zuckerman and Willie Porter at the Latitude 62. A memorable and touching evening.

Back down again with the realization that this experimenting bread and pastry baker will be cutting out all the good stuff to try to eliminate possible allergens in Oliver's diet that may be causing a rash on his face. After some ridiculous $500 spent on special groceries and the inability to find palatable looking gluten/wheat free, egg free, dairy free, nut free bread or a recipe for one, I am in disbelief that we may have to continue this diet for a month or more to include Oliver's birthday next month.

But Grandma Leilani and Grandpa Al are back from three months outside. So maybe they will enjoy some Oliver time and I can get a few more things done. That's good news.

But the just as iconic, extremely talented Talkeetna painter and patriarch Bob Durr unexpectedly passed away two days ago. Very sad.

I made some pretty tasty everything-free brownies tonight. Considering they have no butter, no wheat flour, and no eggs, they're really pretty good. Don't think I'll make them at the Flying Squirrel, but at least Oliver (and the rest of us living here) get to have some treats. (Believe it or not, these things were home made with "flour" from chickpeas, "eggs" from tapioca, and "butter" from prunes!)

Lately, I see this all as less of a roller coaster (though I think I will reserve the right to use the roller coaster analogy again in the future) and more of a see-saw...just trying to keep my balance and not let my butt slam down on the ground too hard.

Up and down.
Up and down.
Up and down.

25 degrees below zero

2009-02-08T17:31:00.005-09:00

Early last week we awoke to 25 degrees below zero, and it never got above zero all day. Not much happened on the bakery construction site that day. Instead of going outside, I worked on Experiment #137 of this winter's Flying Squirrel trial baking efforts.

Lately I hear a lot about ciabatta or rustic Italian which is usually a very wet, yeasted sourdough that produces a crunchy crust on the outside and a moist inside with large irregular holes. I have never made it. And I have NEVER seen it made with anything but white flour. Until now! Oliver loved it and so did I. Might be something to look for once we can get back to building and opening the Flying Squirrel. Here's hoping for warmer weather...anything above 10 would be just grand.

Passing On

2009-02-02T11:19:00.007-09:00

Alan Scott died a few days ago on January 27. I am so disappointed that I never met him. I only exchanged one e-mail with him in November before communicating with his daughter, Lila only to find out that he was very ill. Who was Alan Scott? He was an artisan baker, a master oven builder, a teacher, an advocate of do-it-yourself community-oriented small business, and, from everything I have read, much more...

We will be building an Alan Scott style wood fired brick oven at Flying Squirrel Bakery Cafe. It has been a dream of mine to make amazing bread in a brick oven since I bought Scott's book (co-written with Daniel Wing), The Bread Builders, when it was published in 1999 during my last year working as a baker at Burlington, Vermont's Stone Soup. I always loved the idea that Mr. Scott would be available to answer all of our questions and encourage our project along the way. He has now passed on that task to his children. Here is a brief description from Scott's website, Ovencrafters, about his goals to spreading the word, the philosophy and the actual hands on techniques for ovenbuilding all around the world.

These ovens constitute a radical departure in building technique and use that has made it possible for the first time for small rural based home and village bakeries to be viable and competitive with the industry at any level. With the ongoing loss of middle class occupations throughout western societies, many with even moderate skills and capital can create an invaluable small business in their communities that will find ready support from them in return. Many are finding for the first time the joy of meaningful work in the bosom of their communities and free from the distant hidden grip of the corporate world at last. Ovencrafters' purpose is to earn a right livelihood for its staff guided by Gandhian principles, particularly; "Policy with principles, commerce with morality, wealth through work, and science with humanity". Ovencrafters' truly revolutionary oven designs and self building processes are inspiring a return to nourishing, handmade bread in the family home, and at a local level.

Alan Scott has passed on. But much more importantly, in his life and now surely after his death he and his children will continue the other kind of passing on: passing on of these meaningful skills, techniques, and philosophies. And from Scott's generous spirit, determined bakers around the world will nourish and nurture our communities making wonderful bread and building ovens that make wonderful bread. I can't wait to begin!

P.S. More on Alan Scott: New York Times obituary, a Blog Post from North Carolina Organic Bread Flour Project from two days ago and an article from the Point Reyes Light from 2006.

photos from sourdough.com, twosistersbakes.blogspot.com (Two Sisters Bakery in Homer, AK was lucky enough to have Scott come to Alaska in 2004 to assist in the building of their oven), and danlepard.com

Outside of the Box

2009-01-29T22:08:00.008-09:00

Three weeks of vacation and this little entry roof was all the carpenters managed to accomplish. But not to worry, no heads will roll over it since it's amazing anything happened at all. Two weeks of thirty below and about five days of 35 degree rain made any outdoor activities pretty miserable for all of Talkeetna.

I must say, I love this little roof though. Stick frame construction is less expensive than log or timber frame, but it can be rather boring. I never imagined my dream cafe would look like a big old plywood box. Or that it would "fit in the box" of conventional anything. This clever little roof over the arctic entryway makes me happy because it doesn't fit the mold. It looks good, matching the roof lines nicely without hitting you over the head with some kind of architectural statement, yet it's curious, interesting, funky even.

We definitely picked the right three weeks to head south. We all enjoyed the R&R mixed with just enough adventure and were ready to return home to our own beds too. I only have one regret about our vacation. Our last day, January 20th was spent running errands in a car in a dirty, smelly, noisy, busy Mexican city. To make a long story short, we did get all the items we were searching for or needed for our return trip, but we missed participating in any way in one of the most historic events of our lifetime - President Obama's inauguration. Like so many other people who are hopeful about the next eight years or so, I would be ecstatic to see even one small area of government business and philosophy emulate the vestibule roof of Flying Squirrel Bakery Cafe. Fitting in, yet standing out. Raising a few eyebrows. Finding the solution a little outside the box....

The memory of sunny beaches, pelican shenanigans and eating three meals a day outdoors in the cockpit of Kismet (Aunt Maggie's sailboat in La Paz, Mexico) are fading all too quickly as we dive into all the next steps of cafe construction. The old concrete nightmare is rearing it's ugly head again. By Monday we should finally have all the parts of our permits completed. We've almost lined up the plumber, electrician and mechanical contractor we will hire. And the tarps are folded and ready to be used on firewood piles instead of on the roof. The weather improved enough upon our return for the roofing shingles to be installed and although it's nice to have the blue and brown patchwork of tarps gone for good, it's a little disappointing to already have five inches of fresh snow on the nice new roof. We may not see those roofing shingles again until May!

Anyway, I raise my glass (my shot glass of Mexican Damiana liqueur) to the hard road forward and to thinking out of the box - for me, for the Flying Squirrel Bakery Cafe, and for the new administration of the U.S. government.

Getting Ready

2008-12-24T21:09:00.010-09:00

Sometimes it feels like all we are ever doing is getting ready for what's next. Ordering materials for the roofing and insulation. Talking to contractors and designers hammering out the details for plumbing, mechanical and electrical requirements. Finalizing business documents, designing a website, even changing the look of this blog so that it will match the future website (many thanks to Jim). Imagining the future but somehow never feeling like the future is here, now because we are planning for the next stage.

Fortunately there is one exception.

Getting ready for vacation! This week I am researching public transportation in Seattle and on the Baja, Mexico. Next week, Brian, Oliver and I will be there. This week we are making a list and putting together a loose pile of stuff to remember to bring: child life preserver, travel car seat, bathing suits, a few warm things for Washington, passports, a book for leisure reading, extra diapers, lots of airplane snacks... In one week we will drop almost all of our Talkeetna responsibilities, hop on a plane and get away from this cold, snowy wonderland for three whole weeks. Vacation is one of the few events we get ready for that actually arrives...and actually ends before we start planning the next one.

I couldn't be more ready for this vacation. We can't afford it and really shouldn't take the precious time away from moving forward on the bakery building. But any amount of sunny seventy degree weather we can absorb while traveling will most certainly energize us for all the getting ready that lies waiting for us at home.

It's impossible to know the number of hours I have spent getting ready for the grand opening of Flying Squirrel Bakery Cafe over the last ten years. And it's hard to imagine how much more getting ready I will do in the next five or six months. At some point, the future will be here. The cafe will be open. I will go to my job every day and just be doing it, living it, instead of always planning for it. Wow, that sounds good.

So, on this snowy Christmas and Chanukah day I am thinking more about the changes that Solstice brings. And the forward thinking as each day becomes lighter and a New Year is imminent. My New Year's Resolution: yes, get ready, keep planning, but feel how much the future has already come. As much as I look forward to many tomorrows, I am living right here, right now. Mexico here I come!

P.S. If you subscribe to this blog, take a minute to go the blog site and let me know how it looks and if everything works right on your browser!

Dark and Cold

2008-12-15T15:02:00.011-09:00

I actually got to take a walk by myself a few evenings ago. The temps have been hovering around zero or below for several days. But, no matter, the clear skies made being outside a pleasure even if my frosted eyelashes, the only exposed part of my body, felt like they were in danger of breaking off. I took a few terrible photos - no tripod, no special settings, clumsy gloves, and virtually dark. Funny thing is, I like them anyway. They capture something.

My frosty mood. The blurry blue that is twilight in winter. The slowness of everything this time of year. Yes, my family is very much looking forward to the vacation that we cannot afford and don't have time for.

I walked farther than planned when I glimpsed a spot of light through the trees and knew I had to get to the lake near our house quickly. I tromped through over a foot of snow down the short trail and out onto the lake. Tromped some more following some moose tracks around the bend in the lake and watched one of the most stunning moon rises I have ever seen. Things can get pretty muddled in the dark, snow covered blanket of days around Solstice. But a big, bright, orange moon rise over Tigger Lake, reminded me that moments of clarity are always there. We just have to take the time to look for them...

In Defense of "Food Issues" or Yesterday I was Called a "Stick-In-the-Mud"

2008-12-05T13:53:00.013-09:00

This week we have had a fascinating combination of weather all of which has made for slow going. Monday and Tuesday: 5 below zero (nail guns and air compressors revolt). Wednesday afternoon: blowing snow (tarps revolt, plus it's unsafe for carpenters working on the roof especially in the dark which right now is about at 4:30). Friday, today: rain and 34 degrees (again, unsafe for carpenters working on the roof). We were hoping to have the whole roof sheathed this week - looks like we're a little more than half way there.

Meanwhile, I have an itch in my brain that needs scratching.

Yesterday, as a friend and I were paying for our meal and trying to head out the door of a local food establishment, the owner called me a "stick-in-the-mud" for discouraging his offer of taffy for the children in an open bowl by the cash register. "Thanks, but no thanks," I said, hopefully not sounding as insincere as our governor a few months ago.

A few weeks ago at a really very fun, warm and enjoyable Thanksgiving potluck, I had to remove four bowls of M&Ms to an up high location in the kitchen so Oliver would stop eating chocolate before eating his dinner. This was somewhat challenging since the 20 or so other adults and children in the room seemed to be consuming and enjoying the chocolatey appetizers just fine.

Then, this morning, Brian got annoyed at what he called my "obsession with food issues" when I tried to point out the difference between some sugary, artificially flavored Quaker Oats instant oatmeal that he managed to find hidden at the very back of the pantry and the new box of organic, all natural Costco/Kirkland instant oatmeal I was hoping he would find. I have been fighting a flu bug of some kind, and he prepares meals so rarely these days, that I felt like I should keep my mouth shut since he was kindly making breakfast.*

However, I just can't keep my mouth shut. Last month I read Micheal Pollan's recent book In Defense of Food. I know this is part of the problem (or part of the solution depending on your perspective). It has awakened a sleeping giant in my brain and in my heart. For many years, the giant has been at rest, not comatose per se, but lounging out, making leisurely comments from the peanut gallery, definitely not standing up tall and proud and loud. After reading this book, the giant is standing up again. Here is why.

Human beings have these amazing things called brains - brains that think, that learn, that grow and evolve. My brain happens to be particularly interested in food: taste, nourishment, energy, and the sustenance, safety and sustainability of whomever will consume the food. Brian's brain happens to be particularly interested in shelter: houses, buildings, concrete, lumber, roofing systems, shear walls, energy efficiency and the sustenance, safety and sustainability of whomever will occupy the shelter.

Brian has learned after years of trial and error, education, and work experience that houses should be built with six or eight inch walls. The house will not fall down if it's built with four inch walls, but it will be a much stronger house that will last longer and waste less energy with a thicker wall. Similarly, I have learned that the human body will be stronger, will last longer, and will waste less energy if it consumes healthier foods, say, fresh whole wheat and whole grain breads instead of white bread. We are surviving just fine and probably consumed quite a bit of white bread in our combined 80 years. But now, my brain knows better.

Brian has found that formaldehyde-free insulation doesn't smell nearly as bad as the other brands of fiberglass insulation that are available. Now, we choose to use formaldehyde-free, no matter what some of the construction materials sales guys say about marketing hype - it just feels right, it just seems to make sense, it's not that hard, and we just know it must be better. And, I buy organic and locally produced foods whenever I can because no matter what some of the old school farmers or parents might try to suggest (or deny), buying organic or locally produced foods simply feels right, makes sense, and we know it must be better (no need here to go into research and proof that for the most part it IS better). When I was a little girl, it wasn't even an option. Although less pesticides were probably used on the foods I ate as a child, I am sure there was a good amount of things happening to my food that my parents didn't know about and that probably weren't very good for me. I also probably ate more candy, soda, and fast food than Oliver gets.** I survived. I'm even healthy. But does that mean I should eat the same way I ate as I child or a teenager or one year ago if I know something different now?

I am about to embark on a long-term experiment of making food for others. They will pay money for it and they will choose which foods I have available for sale that they like best mostly based on taste, price, looks, and overall satisfaction. I feel as obligated in continuing my obsession with food issues as Brian does to studying new building codes as they are released, or taking a class on earthquakes, or talking with experts in the field about roofing shingles or techniques for preventing mold and mildew. Need I go on? It's really rather odd that professional development is so widely accepted, even assumed for many fields of work - but not, I think, for being a homemaker or a parent, for running a household, for managing the health and well-being of a family all of which are as or more important than any career.

Although In Defense of Food is a bit academic at times, I do highly recommend it. It focuses on a number of food issues that I have felt strongly about in my heart for a long time but have only articulated in quiet ways. Like don't eat high fructose corn syrup. Don't eat foods that won't rot (like Twinkies). Take time to eat meals with people. Connect together the whole food chain: where the food comes from, how it's prepared, how fast you eat it, how if feels in your stomach once it's past your mouth, where the food waste goes, and on and on. Don't trust nutrition science to be the authority on calories or fats or vitamins, trust yourself. Enjoy eating whatever it is you decide to eat.

The now standing up giant is much bigger than little old me. There are others out there in addition to Michael Pollan that are really trying to bring attention to the interconnectedness of food issues with so many other important world-wide problems. Agriculture, petroleum dependency, the environment, education. I, for one, feel more awake to it all than I have in a long time. And that doesn't make me feel at all like a stick-in-the-mud, or like I "have issues." It makes me feel alive. It makes me feel like I can make a difference whether it's just for Oliver, or for every person that walks into the Flying Squirrel.

On candy and children.
In Pollan's book he discusses the importance of food as culture. Nutritionists can research until the cows come home (a whole problem in and of itself when you consider industry's influence on the nutritional information we actually get). However, he suggests it's actually the act of eating in the context of family and culture that teaches children how to eat. Yes, childhood obesity and diabetes in this country is partly due to children eating fast food, soda, snacks and candy and, simply eating too much. But, it is also likely due to parents not eating meals together with their children. Or having the TV on continuously while eating. Or eating quickly prepared food in five minutes that involves little or no clean up time. I don't know a whole lot about being a parent. I am learning as I go. But I do know that it is my job as a parent to give guidance to my child in hopes that he will make good decisions as he grows up.

Does Oliver think that I am a "stick-in-the-mud"? Maybe. Sometimes. But he probably eats a lot more homemade cake, muffins, brownies, cookies, pies and breads than most of his friends and he seems to think they make just fine treats. He also gets his small share of the chocolate bars, hot cocoa, mints, Halloween candy and Fair food in which all of us partake on occasion. I still don't think he should eat taffy full of artificial flavors and colors and sugars, especially right before nap time. And I still think he should eat a good dinner before he eats a bowlful of M&Ms even if we're at a party where the adults are all eating M&Ms before dinner too. Hopefully I am not too heavy handed and he learns to make all kinds of good decisions when he is old enough. Call me a stick-in-the-mud. I can take it. And I can dish it out, too.

* In Defense of Brian: I just have to note that Brian is no stranger to a discriminating diet. In fact, at times, he is more likely to turn up his nose at something that is fried or overly sweet than I am. And, in fact, on occasion he does a fine job making non-instant oatmeal adding honey, fruit, milk, and cinnamon as he sees fit.

**In Defense of My Childhood and My Parents: Brian and I are both very lucky to be children of parents who paid attention to what we ate as children. Our mothers made baked goods from scratch most of the time. We ate together as a family most of the time. We rarely had candy, chips, soda or fast food available. We ate vegetables. Brian's mom even used whole wheat flour and such. AND, we got Halloween candy. AND, we enjoyed ice cream and birthday cakes and many other treats. We were always well fed and well nourished. Thanks Mom and Dad.

Just one of many somethings to look forward to...

2008-11-24T19:51:00.006-09:00

I am calling this one "Some Like it Hot Chocolate Cake." It was as much fun to make as it was to eat and some version of it will surely make occasional appearances at the Flying Squirrel. A decadent bite of this classic dense, moist, rich chocolate cake with ground almonds leaves the distinctly sexy and lingering flavors of cinnamon, Kahlua and chili peppers! Auctioned during a local radio station fundraiser a few days ago for $100.

Up, Up and Away!

2008-11-22T15:35:00.009-09:00

Clear, sunny and cold. As good a day as any to "fly the trusses." Now, the building is really starting to look like something. You can walk in the front door. You can see out the big window openings that will be the dining area. I can show you around...

this is the front display counter, this is going to be the wood fired brick oven, the loading dock area will be over there, here is the "dish pit" as ex-dishdog now head of our framing crew Dave calls it. Amazing that in just 2 1/2 hours, a bunch of lumber stuck together suddenly becomes something you can grasp as REAL. So many years of imagining what this building would look like....now, here it is....of course, there is still a long way to go. I imagine I will write another post just like this one when the interior walls go in, when the floor finishes are done, and again, when we start installing equipment. So what? And yipee!

On Winter Construction

2008-11-17T23:51:00.011-09:00

Most people have absolutely no idea what Alaska is like, let alone Talkeetna. Most people are completely awestruck by the beauty, the wildness, and the delicious fish, let alone the rugged self-sufficient people. Most people can't fathom living without running water, using an outhouse, or heating with wood, let alone not having blockbusterwalmartmcdonalds within 70 miles.

I am quite certain, given this kind of total incomprehension, that most people cannot possibly imagine who would be insane enough to build anything in the middle of an Alaska winter, let alone a fairly sizable commercial food establishment.

Snow piling up. Temperatures dropping. Darkness descending. On the other hand, think of it this way: no rain and no mosquitoes!

In my humble opinion, winter construction creates some breathtaking moments that just make you glad to be alive. Usually they involve knocking snotsicles off someone's beard or stepping inside to watch the frost melt off your eyelashes...

But sometimes the snow perches like a little hat on each anchor bolt that will soon be buried within walls instead of under several inches of fresh powdery snow. Sometimes, the view out the window that does not yet exist accentuates the way snow can blanket every branch, twig and leaf on every tree creating an infinity of depth that is at once precise yet organic, crisp yet pillowy. Sometimes, the necessity to work at 9:00 in the morning or to grab a few armloads of firewood after dinner or to plug in the block heater on the car when you wake up becomes the opportunity to absorb the darkness and look into the eternity of sky that gifts us with more twinkling stars than I have seen anywhere else in my life and moonlight you can read by.

It's not looking likely that I'll be swinging a hammer very much myself this time. But I have to be quite honest. Sometimes, I really wish I was.

Never Again

2008-11-17T22:09:00.011-09:00

You might think I am about to say I will never again be involved in a large construction project (too many rules, too many permits, too much money, too much stress). Or that I will never again open a food service type business (too many rules, too many permits, too much money, too much stress).

Or, on another subject entirely, you might even think I am about to say I will never again vote Democrat in a national election in Alaska since the results are inevitably announced hours before the Alaska poles are closed so I might as well help out the Green Party a little. Or, perhaps, that I will never again vote for Sarah Palin for anything, though quite honestly, I can't remember if I voted for her for governor or not - all I know is that most Alaskan's I talk to liked her an awful lot more then than they do now.

Never is a pretty strong word. One I try to use as little as possible except perhaps when it comes to VERY important concepts I am trying desperately to get through to the ever challenging 2 1/2 year old brain. Like, "NEVER pull the dog's tail" or "NEVER hit the dog with a flashlight" or "NEVER poke your fingers in the dog's eyes." It is now appropriate for the reader to think out loud, "Poor dog!"

What on earth am I talking about anyway? Get to the point!

60 feet, good water, only ok pressure. Now what? A weekend of denial. Half a day of cost analysis. OK. So, what do you know. I am about to say something I hope I NEVER have to say ever again because it's really just not my style. Here goes...

DRILL BABY DRILL.

Eeeeww. I don't even like typing it.

We just asked the well drillers to keep going even after they hit fine water at 60 feet. We are hoping for better pressure at a known formation for our neighborhood... somewhere between 150 and 200 feet. Fortunately for us (or unfortunately depending on your perspective, I guess), we are not looking for oil!

UPDATE: Round 2, Day 1. No go due to 5 below temps.

Round 2, Day 2. We almost feel like millionaires! Only ten feet farther down and they got 50 gallons per minute. Major relief and cost savings. Maybe we'll get those tickets to Mexico after all.

As if...

2008-11-08T13:57:00.015-09:00

As if we didn't already have enough going on.
As if things aren't crazy enough already.
As if I am not still traumatized by the unexpected loss 8 months ago of the best dog in the world.
As if any dog will ever be able to match Sacha's loyalty, cuteness, unique personality and awesome colorful coat.
As if I need more house work.
As if, as hard as I try, it's not enough of a problem that my hair gets in the food.
As if we can afford dog food and vet visits.
As if I need more pee and poop to clean up.
As if I get any time to myself already.
As if I won't be working 60 or 80 hours a week come May.

On the other hand...

As if a 2 1/2 year old can NOT have a dog.
As if I don't need the exercise!!!
As if I don't need to get outside more.
As if I haven't been searching the Dog Rescue website for the right match every day for several weeks now.
As if she isn't sweet and loving and fun and so happy to join our family.
As if our lives aren't already so much richer after only two days.

What can I say? Meet Kinley. Well, I am actually leaning toward calling her Penny Lane for some reason. She came with the name McKinley, or Kinley for short, but she has these copper colored eyes that remind me of pennies.

7 mo. SF ISO LTR (Like I have time to peruse the personals... In other words: 7 month old single - or in this case spayed - female in search of long term relationship.) Really the blurb about her said "Loves everyone. Beautiful, affectionate and friendly."

And, so far, she does and she is.

Please Share.

2008-11-02T14:17:00.008-09:00

At the northern reaches of flying squirrel habitat, a humble bakery cafe is sprouting up in the semi-wilds of an Alaskan forest. As the conductor of what is sure to be an orchestra of helpers, I hope to direct the creation of something new, different, and exciting for area residents and visitors to Talkeetna, Alaska. After years of caching my ideas for some later date, it's finally time to dig up all the piles of nuts and seeds...and start sharing them with others.

So, here I am, on the eve of opening a new business. Watching the melodrama of the long-held dream unfold before my eyes. There is no turning back now, only moving forward. Seems to be a theme among people far and wide these days. Who DOESN'T want change for the better? Who DOESN'T want to make their dreams into reality? Who ISN'T scared of failure? One thing is for sure. I can't do it all myself.

So, here I am. Blogging. I have never thought of myself as a blogger type. Writer? Maybe, occasionally, some day. New fangled words that take on their own verb tenses like photoshopped, googled and blogged must be as disturbing to other liberal arts English majors as they are to me. But, in the end, I think human beings have a strange and very positive need to share. That's what I'm always trying to tell Oliver (age 2 1/2), anyway. Share. This is, perhaps, the driving force behind the desire to build this business, to create a funky bakery cafe in a little town in Alaska. What kind of world would it be if Joni Mitchell decided not to share her gift for music or Peter Gabriel or Miles Davis or Bob Marley or Mozart or my own sweet sister Esther Golton? How much richer is your life because you read King Lear or Siddhartha or Pilgrim at Tinker Creek or Catcher in the Rye? Sharing is gift giving in it's purest form, in my mind, one of the most important and rewarding qualities of being human.

So, here I am. I think I have something to share. Something wholesome, nutritious, and delectable at the very least. At the most, I aspire to propagate some kind of philosophy of empowering others to be creative, to work hard, to treat others with equal respect. This seems like a good place to start.

Except, of course, the reality is still months away, each month seeming like years. Many, many people - friends and family and acquaintances along the way - have encouraged this crazy idea of mine. The least I can do is offer a few glimpses into the progress, especially for those so far away physically. I know from experience that building construction is a roller coaster of weather forecasting, writing large checks, and feeding very hungry, hard-working men (and women) mixed with excitement, trepidation and, inevitably, endless decision-making. I don't know what starting a business is like but I imagine some carnival ride that is even more thrilling and dizzying than a roller coaster. Thanks for coming along for the ride.