Hi,  I want to share this recipe with you.  It's a staple in my repertoire of simple family desserts.  I didn't create this recipe.  I read it in the Knoxville News Sentinel Food Section at least ten years ago.  I have, however, enhanced and modified it somewhat.  How?  Well, I've changed it to make it a little bit healthier.  

Not low calorie, mind you, just healthier, by substituting whole foods for refined and processed flour and sugar.

Here's the basic (UNmodified) recipe: 

1 stick margarine

1 cup self rising flour

1 cup sugar

1 cup milk

3 cups (more or less) of any fruit

For a family size cobbler, take a square pan.  Put a whole stick of good quality margarine in the pan.  (NOT the light, low calorie kind, which is watery.  You need a full calorie, quality margarine with a high oil content.)  

Preheat your oven to 350 degrees.  After your oven signals it's reached 350, put the pan, with the margarine, in the oven and let the margarine melt.

While the margarine is melting, do the following:

Mix together one cup sugar, one cup milk (whole, low fat or skim, doesn't matter) and one cup self rising flour.  Stir until well blended.  I like to add a little vanilla too.  

Prepare your fruit.  How much?  Well, I play that by ear and tend to use what I've got.   Optimally, for a family sized cobbler, you'll probably need at least  three cups of fruit.  You can use fresh, canned or frozen fruit (It's best to let the frozen fruit thaw a little.  I zap mine for about a minute in the microwave.)   If your fruit is not very juicy, you'll need to add a little liquid, to get a juicier cobbler.  I like to use white grape juice with just about any fruit.  It blends well with all other fruit flavors and adds a nice sweetness.  If you don't have juice, just use water.  And if your fruit isn't very sweet, add a little sugar to taste (a squirt of lemon juice is good too, especially if you're using a bland fruit like blueberries.) 

When the pan is sizzling hot and the margarine is completely melted, take the pan out of the oven and quickly pour in the prepared batter first, followed by the fruit,    If you like, dot the fruit with a little more margarine.  You can even sprinkle with a little nutmeg (I like that on peaches) or cinnamon.  

Finally, pop the pan back in the oven and watch the magic:  the batter will rise to the top as the cobbler bakes.   Depending on how juicy, your cobbler may set and be done in about 30-40 minutes, or it may take a little longer, maybe even up to an hour.   As I said, it depends on how juicy your fruit is.  You don't want to over cook it,  but you don't want the batter to be raw in the middle either,  so just keep an eye on it.  

I like to serve it warm with either real whipped cream or an all natural vanilla ice cream ( Breyers Vanilla is good and has the added bonus of NO corn syrup…I'm a compulsive food label reader and Breyer's vanilla only has the good stuff…cream, milk, sugar and vanilla.)

This recipe is a winner.  Really, it's next to impossible to mess up and always tastes good!

NOW, if you want to make it healthier or even gluten free, as I do, you can make a couple of substitutions.

Instead of white self rising wheat flour, I use Bob's Red Mill Gluten Free All Purpose Baking Flour.  It's not self rising, so I add one teaspoon of aluminum free baking powder to a cup of flour.  You can add a pinch of salt if you like, but  I don't.

If you are not concerned with gluten, you can substitute any kind of flour: whole wheat, oat, buckwheat, etc.  Sometimes, I like to mix up several flours.  I keep coconut, corn, sorghum, and rice flours in my freezer all the time.  Almond meal is a good addition too.   Some flours are a little more absorbent than others, so you may have to slightly adjust the liquid content.

I also substitute organic Sucanat for refined white sugar.  I do that in just about every recipe I cook now.  Have you heard of Sucanat?  It's dehydrated sugar cane.  The granules are very coarse, brown and irregular and it  has a rich molasses flavor which I think is much more interesting than the simple sweetness of white sugar.  I may be fooling myself that it's actually healthy, but it is, at least,  a whole food that is minimally processed and retains all of the (perhaps slight) nutrients of the entire sugar cane.  

This recipe is a cinch to modify in terms of number of servings.  Want a smaller cobbler, maybe just for two?  Easy!  Just keep the proportions the same.  This afternoon, I made a very small blackberry cobbler for my husband and myself in a shallow little aluminum pie pan (in the photo.)  I used one third stick margarine, one third cup of milk, Sucanat and flour, and one third teaspoon baking powder.   I'm going to guess that today I used about a cup (or less) of frozen blackberries.   As usual, I didn't measure, I just used what I had.  We ate it warm and because I didn't have any whipped cream or vanilla ice cream, we topped it with a little bit of vanilla yogurt.  Yes, it's good with yogurt too.   In fact, it's just plain good! 

By the way, cold left overs make a terrific breakfast with yogurt and a sprinkle of granola….and of course, a big cup of hot, STRONG, coffee.

I hope you enjoy using this recipe, especially this summer, and all year long.  

Be Well and Good Luck, 

Martha Maria

Sometimes I sleep on the screened porch attached to my studio.  It's sort of like an enclosed tree house, sitting high on stilts amongst the trees.  You'd be surprised at all the activity in the woods at night: much rustling of leaves, little foot falls and maniacal cackles of bard owls as they survey their nocturnal kingdom.   There are some unsettling noises too.  Nature isn't gentle and predators aren't sqeamish, often eating their prey alive as it screams. 

This morning, I woke to the raucous brawl of a murder of crows in the woods.  Yup, that's what you call a flock of crows: a murder.  Telling, isn't it? 

Crows belong to a genus of birds called corvids.  The corvids include the crows, blue jays, magpies and ravens.  They are supposed to be the most intelligent of birds.  In fact, as scientists learn more, corvids are deemed to be some of the most intelligent of all the animals, very close in intelligence to dolphins.  Amazing, isn't it?  Little bird brains so smart!  So, I guess brain size isn't all that important. 

There's one thing I notice:  the corvids that inhabit these woods are noisy and contentious.  I notice jays and crows alike mobbing other animals.  I've seen jays mob my cat.  Crows seem to enjoy mobbing the squirrels.  When mobbing, they do act in concert.  But when not acting in concert against a common enemy, crows seem to relish a good, noisy brawl amongst themselves.

This morning, sleeping out in the studio, I was awakened at about 7:30 a.m. by crows brawling in the woods:

Crows

I wake to a cacophony

Crows brawling over some small thing

A scrap of food, who owns the tree

Who has the biggest, blackest wings

Every crow thinks he's the king

The Lord of everything he sees

I wonder if crows ever dream

Of peace and quiet when they sleep?

Probably not!

Be well and good luck.  Martha Maria

P.S. I've got a new name and website!  It's www.dogwooddaughter.com 

March 15th is almost over....and I'm 59 years old.  REALLY!  I've been practicing saying I'm 59 for several weeks now, but it still sounds strange to me.  Oh well, consider the alternative, as my husband says.  

I had a wonderful birthday with my two sons.  The three of us went out to lunch and the owner of The Bistro asked me about my companions.  "They're my sons," I said.  "We're eating lunch out because, guess what!  It's my birthday." 

His face lit up.  "Guess who else's birthday it is," he said.

"Yours?" 

"Yes, and I've never met anybody else who has the same birthday," he said.  "Happy Birthday!"

"Happy Birthday to you!"

"Hey, do you like chocolate cheese cake?" he asked.

"YES!" we chorused.  He said he would bring us a piece of his birthday cake for dessert.  The food at The Bistro is wonderful and we were stuffed, but we managed to make room for cheese cake and it WAS delicious! 

It's so much fun when a coincidence like that happens, isn't it?  But I wonder, are there ever any REAL coincidences? Sometimes I have a sense that everything is meant to unwind in precisely the way it does. 

Be Well and Good Luck!  Martha Maria

I used to dread the down days, feared them even.  I don't anymore.  Now I know that every day brings its own rewards and I strive to be alert to harvest each and every one. 

Today, January 10, 2011, is bleak, cold and snowy.  There's a quality to the light that is gray.  And the news, which frankly, I watch too much of, has been dispiriting of late. 

The reward for me, this morning, was to quickly dash off two short poems, little snapshots of mood and moments.  

I doubt that we're very different, you and I.  I suspect that my confused yearning to come to terms with the seemingly random events of fleeting life is shared by most of us just as it was by our ancestors of a thousand generations who preceeded us. 

THE PRIZE

Fortune's a blind alley

A blessing or a curse

Each mortal takes his chance

And spins the wheel in turn

We're pawns in ancient games

Of gods who are amused

Endurance is the prize

Some win and other lose

MONEY (WHAT'S THE USE?)

Money can't relieve

The pains of cruel disease

Nor can money save

Anyone from age

So what's the use of hoarding

Money to excess?

There is no ease or ransom

For age, disease or death

Be Well and Good Luck.  Martha Maria

copyright Martha Maria, 2011

Personal Narratives

Happy New Year!  I wish everyone a happy, prosperous, creative and peaceful new year.

Well, since the new year is a time to contemplate new beginnings, I've been thinking about personal narratives. 

And how do I define the term 'personal narrative?' To me, it is the essential core of how one interprets the direction and experience of one's life and interaction with other people.

I notice that some people consciously construct their own narratives. Others, probably unconsciously, are controlled by a narrative not really of their own making....one that was, perhaps, modeled by parents, taught by an institution, or is simply a knee jerk reaction to life.

Anyway, I recently met a woman whose consistent personal narrative is one of victimization. I couldn't help but notice a  'poor, pitiful me' tone in most everything she related. And in simple disagreements over matters of opinion, she usually cast herself as a persecuted, misunderstood victim. UGH!

I recognize that old victim narrative...a little too well...because it used to be my own narrative, back in my stupider and younger days. Back then, I couldn't understand why no one wanted to stay with me, not for long anyway. But people get sick of the victim act pretty quickly. It doesn't elicit friendship or sympathy as much as it pushes people away.

I finally saw the light and decided to get over my victim narrative about the time I turned thirty. I'm sort of ashamed to admit that it took that long, but better late than never.

Today, on January 3, 2011, at age 58, my narrative is that I'm a strong woman, blessed with many gifts, not by my own merit, but by grace; I am grateful....for love, family, good friends, meaningful work, music and books, a sweet old dog, relatively good health and the beauty of the surrounding mountains and glorious earth. 

I wish that other woman knew that her victim act put me off and probably pushes other people away too.  But I can't tell her, because if I did, she would doubtless feel like a victim....again....UGH! 

Personal narratives are voyages of SELF discovery. Nobody else can do it for you.

Now I wish to share some inspiring words I read by Jerry Long in the National Geographic Adventure Magazine, August 2008 edition.  Jerry was 17 when he broke his neck in a car accident. He was paralyzed from the neck down and had to type using a stick held between his teeth.  He wrote:

"I view my life as being abundant with meaning and purpose.  The attitude that I adopted on that fateful day has become my personal credo for life:  I broke my neck, it didn't break me."  

 I wish you a happy personal narrative in 2011.

Be Well and Good Luck. 

Martha Maria

I just finished reading a fascinating and marvelous book: The White Dawn, An Eskimo Saga by the Canadian author James Houston. Published in 1971, it relates a narrative from Baffin Island, of the encounter between three lost sailors from the whaling bark Escoheag sailing out of New Bedford, Massachusetts in 1896 and the Eskimo natives of Baffin Island, above the Arctic Circle.

Mr. Houston heard this story in the 1940s, while living 12 years among the Eskimos as the Canadian Civil Administrator of Baffin Island. Baffin Island is a vast wilderness covering some 65,000 square miles. Until the advent of the whaling ships, the island's Eskimo inhabitants were untouched by outlanders. And apparently, the first contact between civilizations was not easy....for either side.

Misunderstandings, distrust, pride, greed, the burden of a cruel arctic winter, and even small personal habits deemed repulsive, finally culminated in a murdurous, group rage.

In Mr. Houston's story, the Eskimos first looked on the outlanders as pets or over grown children (indeed they call them "Dog Children") But of course, the three sailors are not nearly as compliant as dogs or children. The singular ways of the outlanders are disruptive to a culture that has evolved to be one in which individual needs are sublimated to those of the group. And surely, a communal corpus and spirit must have been the only way for the Eskimos to survive in such a harsh environment.

　

As I read White Dawn, I found myself thinking about and deconstructing the word 'outlandish,' literally meaning from outside of one's own land. Then I decided to have a look in the dictionary.

out  land'  ish

1.freakishly or grotesquely strange or odd, as appearance, dress, objects, ideas, or practices; bizarre: outlandish clothes; outlandish questions.

2. having a foreign appearance.

3. remote from civilized areas; out-of the-way: an outlandish settlement.

4. Archaic . foreign; alien.

Reflecting on the typical deep truth of language, it seems to me that human nature probably hasn't changed very much. Aren't many of us still suspicious of and unwilling to affiliate with anyone who is 'outlandish' in appearance, language, religion, custom or personal habits? Is that not much of the unspoken subtext of the immigrant question in the U.S.? I wonder, will it take a leap in human evolution and consciousness to overcome our tendencies to divide the world into 'them' and 'us?'

Somewhat tongue in cheek, I wrote a poem, "Outlandish Fear," which epitomizes the extreme fear evoked by 'outlanders' with their 'outlandish' ways. 

Outlandish looks, outlandish ways

Brought from some outlandish place

Outlandish talk, outlandish names

Everything about them's strange

Pull 'um over, hunt 'um down

Round um up, and throw um out

Seal the border, build a fence

Plug the holes, don't let 'um in

I don't want them coming here

Everything about them's queer

One's too many, none's enough

They never will be one of us

It's not that they make me afraid

It's just they're here and I can blame

Them for everything that's changed

I hate when things don't stay the same

Why can't things just stay the same?

Regretably, I suspect my poem accurately describes feelings common to a lot of us.  I'm not preaching. Yes, I believe that fear of outlanders is probably a nearly universal, primitive human impulse, that has outlived it's usefulness. Honestly, I admit to finding some fear of outlanders in myself. They say the first step in getting well is to acknowledge the disease. I acknowledge the disease and I'm going to work to overcome it this year.

Be Well and Good Luck (in 2011!)

Happy New Year. Martha Maria