Evening on Lake Travis

We had never been out to Lake Travis to see the sunset, so we set a time to go for dinner at a new restaurant there, Soleil. This restaurant has been in business for only a short time. It is run by a chef that has really unusual qualifications: he has a Ph.D. in Biochemistry. Apparently his love of food won out.

Soleil is part of a growing complex based on the success of the Oasis. Oasis is a huge, busy place on the cliffs of Lake Travis. It is known for its sunset views, and for mediocre food. Soleil will be known for marvelous food soon.

We arrived in time for a glimpse of this restaurant's beautiful setting. This is late afternoon on the shore of Lake Travis. The limestone cliffs are lit by the beautiful, slanting rays of a descending sun.

The houses here are sometimes quite spectacular, not really blending into the hillsides, but with a kind of stately presence..

Dinner was really quite peaceful here. The restaurant has a Mediterranean theme, so we started with shared servings of calimari (thick and delicious), and a roast pepper hummus (also good, with a peppery bite). Each of us chose different entrées: roast trout, hangar steak, sauteed scallop with wild mushroom ragout over polenta, flattened chicken breast pan-fried with cappacola and fried sage leaves. We shared the reasonable-sized portions so that everyone tasted everything.

As we ate, I took breaks to catch a bit more sunset. Here the raucous Oasis crowd views the sunset from a series of cliff-side terraces.

A lone sailboat glides across to the eastern shore.

Dusk brought an orange glow.

Night completed the process, leaving the beautiful, light-filled hills behind.

Unfortunately it also left an internal reflection from the lens evident on the right side of the photo.

Note: these photos were taken with a new camera, a Canon 60-D. I am pleased with it, but am still learning how to use it properly.

Arboretum - of two minds

The Ladybird Johnson Wildflower Center hosted a getting acquainted day this weekend. As part of their activities, they held a first preview of their nascent Arboretum project. The project is well-funded, and has increased their acreage greatly. It now includes a large plot that was held wild until the last couple of years.

Wild it was, apparently a choked landscape of live oaks and Ashe Juniper. The Ashe Juniper is a local, drought-resistant variety native to this part of the countryside. It is called cedar here, though it is not. It is the source of the so-called Cedar Fever, a nasty allergic reaction to its pollen.

We wandered in a group of about thirty people, listening to an explanation of how live oaks and junipers became the large piles of mulch shown here. The red piles are live oak. The grey piles are juniper. They will be used as mulch to protect the roots of oak trees to come.

While there are plenty of oak trees here already, the arboretum will be planting two more sets of oaks. The first planting will be examples of the 55 (that's right, 55) species of oak trees native to Texas.

They will be planted in a large grid, with a meandering path passing through and underneath them. Eventually the team would like to build platforms that reach up to the canopy, so that people can understand what goes on up there in the treetops. That will come later.

The second planting will be a circle of Texas Heroes, the ancient oaks that live all over Texas. Among them will be a shoot grown from the acorns of the Treaty Oak in Austin. This is a 500+ year old tree that was part of a clump of oaks called the Council Oaks. These trees were part of Comanche and Tonkawa rites. The circle will be about 200 feet across. The plantings will start as small seedlings, so this circle will require years to develop in its projected presence. In the meantime, other plantings will keep the area beautiful and the integrity of the circle evident.

As I look at the juxtaposition of the grand old oaks left behind and the 20 foot mounds of trees removed, I ask myself "What is the definition of arboretum?" To me the answer is: an area where you destroy the trees that you don't like so that you can grow trees that you DO like.

It will be a beautiful spot, and worthy of the Wildflower Center, but always a bit sad for me to visit.

Sanctum sanctorum sent by sweet sister

In my younger days I spent a lot of time with my paternal grandmother. She lived right next to the school ground in the town in which I grew up. She was a wonderful woman, busy, vibrant, strong, and a wonderful cook. Since I had lots of after school sports and extra-curricular things to do, invariably I would wait at her house for a ride home.

A key ingredient in my life from those days was her home-made bread. She made both white and whole wheat loaves, and I loved them both. They were always there, either fresh from the oven or frozen for another day. I always had either the bread itself or the smell of it baking while at Grandma's house. It was also an ingredient in her turkey stuffing on holidays. Grandma is long gone, but her bread is still with us.

Imagine my surprise and pleasure when my very thoughtful sister sent me the bowl above - the very bowl that Grandma used to make her bread! She is long gone, but this priceless thing reminds me of her every day. I remember the bread-making days very well. I used to watch her and ask questions. She was a very meticulous and frugal baker, measuring carefully, and never wasting a thing. Her experiences during the Great Depression guided her every task in the kitchen. She taught me how to make this bread and taught me that it was a key component of a well-run household. It spoiled me for the "sponge" bread that you got in the store in those days. I can still picture her 5 foot tall figure slamming the bread down on the counter while kneading, making the whole house resound.

Today was the first day I have made her bread (the whole wheat version) since receiving the bowl, a very special present. I thought I might share the process. Having everything ready to go is important to me. It avoids extra steps and hesitations. This has become instinctive to me. The list of ingredients is below, along with comments.

I have taken some liberties with her recipe, as ingredients have changed or improved since then.

• 1/4 cup brown sugar
• 2/3 cup shortening (I sometimes use the original lard for the taste - I did today)
• 2 tablespoons salt
• 1 cup milk powder (Grandma scalded milk and used it directly - I don't think anyone still does that.)
• 1/4 cup steel milled oats (optional - Grandma did not use that, but I used it today.)
• 2 cups boiling water

Combine this set of ingredients in the bowl, allowing the boiling water to melt the shortening or lard.

Don't worry if there are a few, soft lumps left. They will incorporate as things go along.

While the fat is softening and melting, use some of the boiling water,  a pinch of brown sugar, and cold water to get a cup of warm water (you should be able to stick your finger in and hold it there). Then add the following:

• 2 teaspoons of fast-acting dry yeast (Grandma used yeast cakes. They are still available, but the new yeast rises super-fast. It is just more convenient for me.)

The yeast should start foaming fairly quickly as it proofs. There is no need for it to go crazy; just let some bubbles form, then stir to make sure all the yeast is in the liquid.

Leave the yeast on the side while proceeding to add the following to the liquid

• 3 cups of white flour (Grandma used 4, but I like the added wheat flavor when trimming down the white flour)
• 1 cup of whole wheat flour

Stir the flour into the water/shortening/milk powder mixture until it is all together. Then stir in the cup of yeast, stirring until the mixture is uniform.

At that point add

• 4 cups of whole wheat flour

Mix until a shaggy dough is formed and most of the flour is incorporated. Don't worry if a bit is left. Just be frugal and use it as things move along.

The dough should look like that above. Turn it out on your table or counter for kneading. It starts out looking like this. Use extra white or whole wheat flour if it sticks.

It ends up looking like this. Don't forget to slam it down on the counter a few times during the process. It helps the gluten form so your bread sticks together.

Cover it in the mixing bowl and let it rise until doubled. Grandma used a round metal lid over her bread, then wrapped the whole thing in an old sweater. The new yeast makes that unnecessary. I sometimes think this stuff would work outdoors on a winter morning. Let it double - it should take 20-30 minutes. Don't let it overrise. That will make the bread crumbly and dry when baked.

Punch down the dough, knead and slam it again, then separate it into three even pieces. This is a good time to find out whether you have obsessive/compulsive disorder. I do, so I obsessively DO NOT make them even. I rolled today's bread in more steel milled oats to give a bit of bite on the crust. Cover the loaves and let them double - again, about twenty to thirty minutes.

Bake them at 350F for 45-55 minutes (baking time depends on the day, the size of your loaves, and the accuracy of your oven). They are done when you tap the bottom of the loaf and it sounds hollow.

Today's effort came out pretty good. This loaf shows a bit too much oven spring (larger holes in the top part of the loaf). E liked the mie (French word meaning crumb, but referring to the innate texture of the bread.)

I have no complaints. I always like Grandma's bread.