looking at art

A few weeks ago I went to the Chicago Art Institute. I always feel rejuvenated after visiting an art museum. It pulls me out of my head and distracts me from all the mundane things I worry about unnecessarily on a daily basis. This trip seemed long over-do, and somehow reflecting on it now makes me realize how much this past month was recovering from the prior five.

I began by studying some photographs, comparing the differences between printing and developing methods, reading the name of each artist, title, and materials. Then I set out through the contemporary building and decided that I was not going to read anything. Instead I would just focus on the painting itself – I could only take in so many words and changing my focus constantly was becoming somewhat dizzying. Often though, I couldn’t help myself and I needed the curator’s enlightening descriptions. I made my way through a few connected rooms and, quite pleased with what I had seen, stepped back into the hallway. Suddenly overwhelmed by how much was housed in a single wing of this building, I considered calling it a day - until I thought of all the beautiful paintings that would be in the next room over, so many artists I love. I decided that I had to walk through a few more rooms, just to be in the presence of such beauty and wonder. I stood to look at a painting, but rather than study it I let the whole room flood over me, with such richness that it far surpassed any one masterpiece.

Somehow my few hours immersed in artwork mirrored my recent experiences as a third year medical student, at least in sentiment. I have many stories to tell, each of them great on their own, but all together they make up something greater. Something I don’t yet have the words for and maybe never will. But it is wonderful, this mixture of excitement and anxiety, sadness and relief, complete engagement and detachment. And there has been an overarching sense of being overwhelmed. Not in the way I felt overwhelmed by the massive amount I had to learn in anatomy, not a sense of something being unconquerable or time being too short, but such a flood of experience that I will need some time to pull myself up out of the water before I can reflect on it all.

In contrast to all that, my few days of Christmas vacation have been so beautifully simple. I’m back in Texas, and I think that adds to the feeling, both for its reminder of my youth as well as the basic kindness of strangers that goes hand in hand with southern hospitality. I’ve been relishing in walks through the neighborhood, blue skies, green leaves still hanging to trees, and lazy mornings with my family. I think it’s the perfect transition into the new semester, with a new confidence that I know what I want to do with my future, and a renewed connection with the idea of becoming not just a doctor but a healer.

I saw some art again today. This time it was the Menil Collection, a much more manageable, focused collection of art. I walked through the naturally lit rooms, surrounded by beauty, and felt like I was able to take it all in and process it to some degree. My last stop was the Rothko Chapel, and left with a profound feeling of peace.

I hope you have all had a wonderful Christmas and are filled with love and joy as we begin to look towards the new year.

self-disclosure and a classic

Two weeks ago my husband and I visited our friends and family in Houston. It was a bit strange to recognize that it might be a really long time before we return. We might never again travel along that strip of highway leading from Dallas to Houston where, years ago, we had a terrible car accident. And where we wave at the statue of Sam Houston every time we pass.

We enjoyed talking to my family and swimming in our backyard. My sister is home from Nebraska for the summer, and one of my cousins from Cleveland, Ohio decided that searching for a job in Houston might prove more fruitful so he is currently living in my old bedroom. (There is a girl that just happens to be my best friend from high school who might have had something to do with this decision, but that's another story.) Several friends from high school reunited at an old favorite restaurant, Spanish Flowers, to reminisce and laugh. Just like the good old days.


We also had a very new experience, one that we have been talking about for several years. Sky diving. For me, the beauty of it was more incredible than the exhilaration. A few of the images that really stand out in my mind are looking up at the parachute, seeing birds flying below me, and seeing my shadow in a cloud just before we passed through it, with a beautiful rainbow forming a complete circle around it.

My good friend MJ had never been to Houston so I invited her to join for the ride and offered her a place to stay. I was so happy to share some of my own favorite places with her, those that I sometimes have trouble convincing others that they deserve a repeat visit. The Menil Collection of is the most amazing private art gallery I have ever seen and they are constantly rotating in new permanent and temporary exhibitions. The nearby Rothko Chapel is the most peaceful place I know. Eating lunch at Baba Yega's is like dining in an exotic greenhouse.

It was interesting to me that after a couple days of doing things together and on our own I was disappointed that she had not met my family yet. It was the first time since I left home that I have felt close enough to anybody to want to share my home with her, and to want to share her with my family. Now, I recognize that this was some major self-disclosure I was asking for, and self-disclosure is a risky business. You make yourself vulnerable when you tell somebody about your past or your inner-most thoughts or introduce them to the people who helped to form the person you have become. It is also one of the greatest ways to strengthen a relationship. I was surprised to find how happy I felt as I watched my father put his arm around MJ and assure her that she was welcome for dinner. It also reminded me how much I love my family.

I have a special recipe I would like to disclose to you all. It's my mother's lasagna recipe and I have loved it for as long as I can remember. As a child, this lasagna convinced many of my friends that maybe they did like tomato sauce after all. It was my yearly birthday treat. If I was lucky when I visited from college I would get to take back a small container of it frozen. It was my dad's request this year for Father's Day.

As I looked at the recipe and followed the familiar steps with my mother and sister I realized how simple it is. I'm pretty sure it's just the slow-cooked, herbed tomato sauce that does the trick. The emerging cook in my thought of a million additions that might be more interesting - a layer of fresh basil leaves, a hint of cayenne, some zucchini or eggplant... Perhaps it will pique your imagination. But if you have a good-sized salad on the side this really does hold up on its own. Just like the good old days.

Classic Lasagna Recipe:

This recipe makes two 9 x 13 pans or one extra large pan.

Options if you don’t need so much: cut recipe in half, freeze one pan of lasagna after baking, or just make one pan of lasagna and freeze the extra sauce for later use.

For the sauce in a large kettle over medium heat, cook until translucent:

2 T.   olive oil

¾ c.   onion - chopped or minced (food processor is okay if you don’t want chunks)

2 cloves garlic, minced

Add 1 ½ lbs.  ground beef and brown, stirring frequently

Add:

32 oz.  diced canned tomatoes

64 oz.  crushed canned tomatoes

2 T.  dried parsley

1 T.  sugar

1 t.  salt

1 t. oregano

¼ t.  pepper

1 bay leaf

Reduce to low and simmer 1-2 hours.  You can add water if it gets too thick.

1 lb lasagna noodles - cook, drain, rinse with cold water

For the cheese mixture, mix in a large bowl:

15 oz ricotta cheese

1 egg, beaten

1 c mozzarella cheese - grated

1/3 c water

¼ c parmesan cheese

1 T. dried parsley

Dash nutmeg

Salt and pepper to taste

More grated mozzarella cheese for layering (4-6 cups)

Layer the prepared ingredients in this way:

Light sauce in bottom of pan

Noodles

Ricotta mixture

Grated mozzarella

Sauce

Repeat noodles, ricotta, mozzarella, sauce until noodles are gone

Top the last noodle with sauce and mozzarella

Bake at 350^o for 25 minutes, covered with foil. Remove the foil and bake for an additional 5-10 minutes, until the top layer of cheese is slightly browned.

If you want to assemble everything the day before an event you can refrigerate it, covered with foil, overnight. It will take 15-20 minutes longer to cook the next day.

kohlrabi in mustard sauce

This weekend my husband and I drove to Houston to visit my family and celebrate with them the 30-year anniversary of the small high school that we both graduated from, and where my mother has been teaching since it opened. Whenever we visit Houston I always make an effort to stop at the Hubbell & Hudson market in the Woodlands. I absolutely love this place! They import many products that I have never seen anywhere else, like Italian almond oil in this pretty bottle. But, even better, almost everything is organic and sustainable, and much of the produce is locally-grown. They also make their own cheeses and fresh pasta. Some of the interesting things I found this time: a pepino melon (tastes like a cross between a pear and a banana), kumquats, purple flowering kale, and baby red kohlrabi.

For dinner the next night we had H&H fresh spinach fettuccini  with their house-made tomato sauce and this Kohlrabi in Mustard Sauce. I had never cooked kohlrabi before, so I turned to Mark Bittman's How to Cook Everything. He didn't have anything for kohlrabi that looked appealing to me, so I tried one for turnips and it turned out to work really well. I also adapted the recipe to use the entire vegetable - root, stem, and leaf. I had a bunch of 4 baby red kohlrabi, but I imagine it would be just as tasty with any variety. If you are worried about them being too bitter you might add a teaspoon of sugar with the stock.

Kohlrabi in Mustard Sauce Recipe:
1-2 tablespoons extra virgin olive oil
4 baby kohlrabi
salt and freshly ground black pepper
1 cup vegetable stock
1 tablespoon mustard seeds
1 teaspoon dijon mustard
chopped fresh parsley leaves

Heat the oil in a saucepan/skillet.
Cut the bulbous root of the kohlrabi into cubes, about 1/2-inch. Add it to the oil with a bit of salt and pepper. Stir occasionally.
As it begins to cook chop the stems into pieces 1/2-inch long. Stir them in after 3-4 minutes.
Coarsley chop the leaves of the kohlrabi and add them once everything else begins to brown, about 10 minutes.
Add enough stock to cover; bring to a boil and cook until the liquid has mostly evaporated and everything is tender, about 15 minutes.
Add the mustard seeds and paste, stir well.
Add more salt, pepper, or mustard to taste. Garnish with parsley.


I just want to add, I know the pictures are very poor. My kitchen has no window, it does have fluorescent lights, and I have only an old digital camera. But I still feel like it's better than nothing.