Greek Orzo Summer Wedding Salad

For Luke and Val.

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I have been to so many weddings this past month my head is spinning. They’ve all been completely lovely.

There’s one last wedding to complete this season of matrimony, and by an unfortunate twist of fate, I can’t even make it. I’m bummed.

But the good news is, even though I can’t make it, I can send food! One of the more creative touches the happy couple added? Recipe cards for a potluck reception. Super creative, guys!

Also, I’ve never actually met the couple. (Hi, Luke, hi Valerie!) I’ve heard awesome things about them. I can’t wait to hang out with them after they’re married. But in the meanwhile, to conclude this season of holy matrimony, here’s my potluck contribution. It’s one of those make-ahead dishes that travels well and can be as versatile and summery as you like.

Ingredients:

  • 1 box of orzo pasta
  • 1 cucumber
  • 1 pint cherry tomatoes
  • lots of fresh dill
  • 1/4 c white vinegar
  • 3 T Dijon mustard
  • 1/2 c olive oil
  • 1 container feta cheese
  • salt and pepper

Directions:

1. Fill a pot with water and bring to a boil. Add orzo and cook 8-10 minutes until pasta is thoroughly cooked and al dente.

2. In the meanwhile, quarter the cucumber into bite sized pieces. Halve the cherry tomatoes and roughly chop the dill.

3. In a separate bowl, whisk together Dijon and vinegar for dressing. Drizzle in the olive oil slowly, whisking until thoroughly combined. Add the dill, then salt and pepper to taste.

4. Drain the pasta and rinse under cold water. (The goal is to cool down the pasta, since this is a chilled pasta salad. Nothing is worse than warm cucumbers.) In a large bowl, combine the vegetables, feta, dressing and orzo.

5. Taste and adjust seasonings. Feel free to brighten with lemon juice, or add your own touch — green onions, shallots, shrimp or anything else!

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Finally, eat, drink and be merry! Or married. Whichever is applicable.

 

 

 

Hop the Fence, Have Adventures

We got outside the other day. Phones down, boots laced, we headed towards the coast where the misty sunshine called. Part of an attempt to step away from social media and live like hermits, adventures have begun to feature more prominently in our daily lives.

It’s true, what they say. Stopping the car to jump out and take a picture of a mountain for Instagram isn’t the same as climbing the mountain. The adventures you hear on the internet aren’t nearly as intriguing as the ones people keep to themselves.

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I invested in a pair of Danner hiking boots (and proceeded to dye, treat and lace my own shoelaces thanks to my very invested leatherworking boyfriend) and have since found it’s impossible to stick to the trail. One of our favorite things to do is hop the fence entirely and go where we aren’t allowed.

I don’t recommend this on the most professional level, but let’s be honest. How many adventures happen when you stick to the beaten path?

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The inaugural boot break-in trip went swimmingly, we hiked Mount Hood and found a gigantic swamp near a breathtaking clearwater lake. Of course, this being spring, we found ourselves in the middle of frog mating season. I’ve never heard croaking so loud! The whole forest was ringing with the creaks and groans of frogs, and the still-snowy ground was littered in clear, gelatinous eggs. Each egg had a tiny tadpole forming in the center. It was disgustingly fascinating.

But I must admit, Cannon Beach is my favorite spot to escape to. The big volcanic rocks are beautiful and rugged. The mist wraps around them like a dame’s fur coat and are gorgeously foreboding. Every picture I’ve taken is flawless; it’s as though the coastline doesn’t have a bad angle.

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Anyway, since summer is around the corner, why not try lacing up your hiking boots, too, and seeing where you end up?

I recommend the following:

  • Bring snacks
  • Bring a camera (if you want)
  • Dare yourself not to post any proof of your miraculous adventures online (be old school and write it down in a notebook if you think you’ll forget details)
  • Keep your adventure boots in the car so you’re always ready
  • Ignore most fences, don’t be afraid to take risky routes
  • Pack water and first aid
  • Climb things
  • Use common sense
  • Collect cool objects
  • Just get out there. And make it a habit!
  • Share your best adventures around a campfire
  • (Learn how to start a campfire)

 

Coffee Tours: Either/Or Coffee, Sellwood

The winter drizzle is ceaseless.

It would seem to be perfect coffee drinking, book reading, curl up with a cup of tea kind of weather, and it is. Yet there are only so many perfect cappuccinos that can be downed before the caffeine has kicked in, awakening the urge to do something.

The product of too many cappuccinos? Adventures.

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It was during a coffee crawl that I finally stumbled into Sellwood. I’d been itching to check out Either/Or for a while.

I’m a sucker for tiny, intimate, less-than-ten-seat kind of places. This particular location, however, felt a little too far to travel and had been pushed down on my list for ‘a rainy day.’

That rainy day had arrived! 

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Either/Or didn’t disappoint. It feels a little as though an untouched corner of your grandma’s attic somehow acquired a La Marzoco Strada MP and opened to the public.

I was charmed.

With a little vintage refrigerator to house the milk and a tiny sink skirted with a dusty curtain to cover the no doubt rusting pipes underneath, Either/Or was comfortable and small, welcoming and warm.

Pleasantly, they also rotate their espresso selections and offer an espresso flight, in case you’re ready try them all.

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Its retro charm suits the Sellwood area well. This tiny little neighborhood in Southeast Portland is brimming with antique stores and strange holes in the wall. A particularly scenic view graces the river over a steep drop-off.

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The streets are sleepy and quiet. There’s a vague, small-town air of mystery here aided by the gloomy skies and endless antique shops.

Shops with bright, twinkling lights catch the eye. The rest fade into the grey.

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My only takeaway for this post is this: regardless of the weather or location, strange and wonderful things are waiting to be discovered.

Make your Thursday an adventurous one!


 

Portlanders! Check out Either/Or here or pay them a visit at 8235 SE 13th Ave. 

In Search of Wild Places

Oregon is known for its mysterious, misty woods and the beautiful Cascade Range that cuts across the landscape. Portland and the surrounding area are neatly located between the mountains and the Pacific Ocean, giving the pine trees a lush jungle feel and dotting the landscape with rivers and waterfalls.

When I moved to Oregon, I was thrilled. I couldn’t wait to get my boots damp. I was prepared to hike through the drizzle, explore the deep and wild places the way Lewis and Clark did long before me.

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From my childhood, I recalled a pleasant visit to Multnomah Falls, one of Oregon’s most famous landmarks. It had been a decade since my last visit, but I was eager to see it again and explore its mossy old bridge. I wanted to stand in front of the falls and feel the spray of this massive, tall, beautiful natural wonder.

I prepped, packing warm clothes and wearing my adventure boots. I made hiking granola bars, jam-packed with energy-sustaining deliciousness. I was ready to face the wild.

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Instead, to my deep disappointment, I was met with crowds upon crowds of people in rainjackets, braving the 35 degree foggy weather with lattes clutched to their chests. It was a sea of neon windbreakers, families clustered near the scenic photo spots posing with selfie cameras, ignoring the imposing, thundering falls behind them in favor of their photographs.

I was disappointed and let down. I stared up at the falls, feeling myself get jostled among the tourists who were looking at Multnomah Falls as a checkmark on their list, an Instagram post trending #waterfall.

Is anyone looking? I thought, staring up at the 600 foot wall of churning water. Flashbulbs were going off around me. Somehow, the crowds made the falls feel small. I was frustrated.

“Come on,” I said. “Let’s go somewhere else.”

Wholeheartedly, Isaac agreed. We had a backpack full of hiking food – homemade granola bars, fresh coconut water. We had no appetite to eat it here. There was no hike, no exploring, just crowds clutching balloons.

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We drove away, leaving families and strollers in our wake.

Driving aimlessly, looking only for a lone backroad or forgotten trail, we lost ourselves deep in a state park. It was the opposite of the falls – completely deserted and cold. The wind had picked up, the temperature had dropped to near freezing.

Still, determined not to be deterred, we left the car and hiked out onto a jetty that stuck out into a huge body of water. White-capped waves splashed up against icy black stones. This was the polar opposite of our last encounter.

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“Shall we?” I asked. It was freezing out. Our faces were chapped and fingers going numb. Almost out of spite, as if to prove this was really what nature was like, we spread out a blanket on a fallen log. We pulled out our provisions, the homemade granola bar of gargantuan size and a young, white coconut.

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I hadn’t split the granola bar into individual pieces. In the cold weather, it resisted separating in my hands. Isaac hacked at the coconut with a large hunting knife, yielding sweet, fresh coconut water unaffected by the cold.

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And so we sat as the wind howled, eating our granola bar, drinking coconut water, laughing at how ridiculous the scene must look. There were no latte stands around. There were no gift shops selling ponchos or postcards. In fact, I’m fairly certain hardly anyone has ever stood in the spot we found ourselves.

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I felt a little hypocritical as I snapped pictures of our setup. I had just been lamenting everyone who went to beautiful places for the sake of photographs.

But there was something coldly beautiful about the scene. It was deserted, the conditions uninhabitable. Still, we were there, picnicking in midwinter weather along an empty jetty. I had no intention of hashtagging it online to check off of my list. I wanted to live it, full and real and raw. The photographs were a reminder to myself – you sometimes have to seek adventures of your own, abandoning the footsteps of others. The wild places are the ones least photographed. That’s where the adventure begins, when you leave the trail.

 

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We rolled up the blanket with numb hands. Piling back into the car with rosy faces, we cranked the heat up and breathed in the still air of the car.

“Worth it?” I asked.

“Worth it.”


 

Wholesome Adventure Bars:

Ingredients:

¼ c peanut butterIMG_8298 - Copy

1 c oats

½ c honey (preferably local)

¼ c cranberries

½ c chocolate chips

Nuts optional – almonds, peanuts, sunflower seeds, etc.

 

Directions:

  1. In a pot over medium heat, melt peanut butter, stirring well.
  2. Stir in oats, honey, nuts, cranberries and/or ¼ c chocolate chips. Stir until the mix clumps together – there should be no dry oats. If necessary, add more honey. The mix should be damp and able to cling together.
  3. Remove from heat, let cool until just warm enough to handle. Form into a large rectangle.
  4. Let cool. To speed the process, use a refrigerator.
  5. Melt ¼ c chocolate chips. Spread over the bar. (This acts as a “glue” for crumbly parts of the bar as well as making it delicious.) Stud with nuts, extra chocolate or berries.
  6. Let cool completely, allowing chocolate to harden. Refrigerate if necessary.
  7. Cut into smaller squares if desired. Pack on your next hike and enjoy!

Pacific Coast

Because we apparently can’t get enough of long car drives, yesterday the Hummer made its way as far west as it possibly could go. We drove until bumping into the Pacific, nose-to-nose with gulls, faced with a long jetty extending into salty sea spray.

The stunning Oregon coastline faded in and out of view, veiled by thick fog that beaded along our rainjackets. (The previous day Isaac made the comment, “I hope it rains tomorrow so we can go to the beach!” which seemed so backwards we laughed.)

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It was a combination of sea spray and raindrops that left us damp and shivering, but the view was worth it. Mysterious, vague and vivid, so many blues danced against the ocean there couldn’t possibly be a name for all the shifting shades.

Matthew 8 kept returning to my thoughts as I took in the view. I have struggled and battled and endured some rough seas this past month, especially the past few weeks, making the decision to follow a call I wasn’t even sure I was hearing clearly.

But if I know the creator and calmer of even the roughest seas, I will be more than fine.

We climbed out to the end of the jetty, breathing in the damp, refreshing, salted air. A reminder that just because we arrived doesn’t mean the adventure is even close to over. It’s just beginning.

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Matthew 8: 25 – 27

They went to him and woke him up. “Lord!” they cried, “Save us! We are going to die.” He asked them, “Why are you afraid, ye of little faith?” Then he got up and rebuked the winds and sea, and there was a great calm. The men were amazed. “What kind of man is this?” the asked “That even the winds and sea obey him?”