Zen and the Art of a White Picket Fence

 

Back in 1990 I was sitting in my apartment with a close friend listening to her plaintive lament about life in Los Angeles.  She decried the fast pace, the traffic, and the unrealistic expectations that life in tinsel town put on the average person.  What she wanted, she bemoaned, was an authentic and real life.  She painted a picture of how wonderful her life would be if only she could move to a little small town somewhere where magnolias bloom and church bells ring.  She told me that she wanted a home with a white picket fence and a windowsill that held homemade pies as they cooled.   As I silently listened to her weave a visionary tapestry of some future life she longed for, I sat at my chopping board cutting herbs for our dinner that I had clipped from my potted garden.  I wiped my hands on my apron, grabbed her arm and led her into my dining room to show her the two pies (well, French tarts anyway) that I had sitting on a makeshift cooling rack that I had rigged on my window sill.

We sat down again and I told her, “Laura, if you want to have pies cooling in your windowsill, then bake pies.  If you want a little garden for fresh produce, then plant seeds.  If you want to be a stay-at-home mom, then learn to be a stay-at-home person.  You don’t need a white picket fence to live a soulful life.  You need to be soulful.”

Happiness is an elusive emotion for many people and I don’t claim to have all the answers, but I think I stumbled onto a key component of it early on as I laid out my first pies on a rickety makeshift windowsill so many years ago.

I guess you might call it my “Zen and the Art of the White Picket Fence” philosophy.

My friend eventually left Los Angeles for greener pastures and whiter fences, but with the exception of a few detours along the way I have stayed the course in Los Angeles.  My home is bigger now and my garden yields a bit more produce these days, but I still measure distance by time spent in the car (as in, Q: How far to the beach from your house?  A: Depends on what day and what time you leave, but anywhere from 10 to 40 minutes).   I also continue to confront daily all the other evils of life in the big city: traffic, pollution, crime, play dates….  But the truth is that I’m happy.

Andrew is happy too.  Well, he’s happy until he gets a bit of money in his pocket.  Money starts to stir in him a grand desire for acquisition.  It gets even worse if he sets his heart on something he can’t afford.   The disparity between desire and acquiring eats away at his happiness like spray paint on Styrofoam; I can actually watch him melt into a lumpy pool of envy and greed right before my eyes.   There’s nothing I can say to pull him out of these momentary lapses into consumer despair.  I can only offer advice on how waiting can be a virtue.  Yeah, yeah, I know.  He’s 14. But I’m 48 and I’m not immune.

I have to admit that on any given day I do yearn for a more pastoral setting for my life.  I often imagine how it would be to walk out of my tastefully restored turn-of- the-century farm house and scatter seeds for my free-range chickens in exchange for fresh eggs.  I can picture perfectly the exuberance I would feel making cheese from the goats grazing upon the green hill just beyond my organic fruit orchard.   Of course, I would drive into town in my Range Rover to pick up some wine from the local vineyard.

We all have our dreams and fantasies.

The trick is to not allow our dreams to overshadow the beauty and potential of our day-to-day lives.  It’s even trickier teaching our children how to do the same.

But it’s not impossible.

I can’t afford a beach house, but I can spend the weekend at the beach with Andrew and friends.  I can’t afford a cabin, but we can backpack 10 miles into the Sierras and enjoy a timeshare that comes without maintenance fees.  I don’t have an orchard, but I can go to a farmers’ market and experience produce that was plucked the day before.

I know I won’t be able to explain it to my son in words, but I hope the Zen of the white picket fence sinks in.  I hope he looks back on his life and remembers the nights I had him crack 10 pounds of olives for curing or how we used a brick to weigh down the curds as we pressed them into a cheese.  Perhaps he’ll be nostalgic for shucking hundreds of fresh favas or deboning a myriad of sardines.  I know he won’t forget turning wine into vinegar and holding his first oak barrel or brilliantly stopping the fire I caused when heating up vodka for homemade vanilla extract!    These are not exciting activities and they can’t compete with the Xbox for an adrenalin rush, but I have to believe that soulfulness comes from soulful experiences and happiness comes from being at peace with where and who you are right here and right now.  And, perhaps a little bit of faith that tomorrow will be as good or better than today.

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New Oak Ranch Olive Oil Cake with Walnuts and Ojai Pixie Tangerines

 

If ever there was a cake that takes advantage of the here and now, it’s this mesmerizing farmhouse cake from New Oak Ranch in Ojai, California.  I start asking for the Ojai Pixie tangerines at the first sight of anything orange at the farmers’ markets and always have to wait at least a month or two longer for these intensely sweet beauties to arrive.  Of course, if I just waited for the first lavender to bloom, I wouldn’t have to ask.  They come into their own at the same time and the alchemy of the two will paint your inner picket fence a bit whiter.   Of course, Pixies are a fleeting pleasure and you can easily substitute any sweet tangerine or orange with equally great results.

 

 

Bottom Layer:

2 tablespoons flour

1 tablespoon butter

1/3 cup sugar

½ cup walnuts

Cake:

2 cups flour

½ teaspoon baking powder

½ teaspoon baking soda

¾ teaspoon salt

1 ½ tablespoons tangerine zest

½ cup chopped walnuts

3 eggs, beaten

2 cups sugar

1 ¼ cups olive oil

1 cup milk

½ cup fresh tangerine juice

Topping:

1 cup whipping cream

3 tablespoons powder sugar

12 springs of lavender and about 1 tablespoon of lavender buds, roughly chopped

 

Preheat the oven to 350 degrees.  Generously butter the bottom and sides of a 10 –inch spring form pan.  (You can use a 9-inch pan, but the cooking time will be a bit longer.)  In a food processor fitted with a metal blade, combine the ingredients for the bottom layer and pulse until the ingredients are combined and the walnuts are chopped to the size of very small peas.  Spread the mixture in the bottom of the pan and gently pat to form an even layer.

In a medium bowl, whisk together the flour, baking powder, soda, and salt.  Stir in the tangerine zest and walnuts and set aside.  In a large bowl, whisk together the eggs, sugar, olive oil, milk, and tangerine juice until smooth and fully combined.  Add the dry ingredients and stir with a wooden spoon until well blended.  Pour the batter into the prepared pan and smooth the top.  Bake for 50 to 70 minutes or until a toothpick inserted in the center of the cake comes out clean.  Remove from the oven and place on a rack to cool.  When cool, run a knife along the edge of the pan and release the sides of the pan.  Slice into wedges and serve.

To make the whip cream, whip the cream until soft peaks begin to form.  Add the sugar and continue to beat just until the sugar is incorporated.  Place a dollop of cream on top or next to each slice and garnish with lavender sprigs and sprinkle with a few lavender buds.

Serves 12

Note:  The cake is good without the lavender and amazing with it.   If you don’t have lavender in your backyard, then take a walk with the dog and “borrow” a few snips from your neighbors!

Provecho!