Sunday, March 7, 2010

Sag Paneer


Sag Paneer
2 bags or 3 boxes of fresh spinach
1 onion, diced
2 garlic cloves, diced
1 c cheese, cubed (whatever you like, I use raw cheddar)
¼ c heavy cream
1 tsp each:
cumin, coriander, garam masala
½ tsp paprika
salt
pepper
1 Tbsp butter
1 Tbsp olive oil

Saute onion in a med frying pan until translucent, add garlic and other spices and sauté until well combined then add rinsed spinach and cook to wilt, simmer until water is evaporated. *, **
Make sure the heat is low and pour in the cream, stir, taste for seasoning and add salt and pepper if needed, add cheese, cover and allow cheese to melt but not completely. Serve hot.

*If you’re in a rush, don’t add the spices until after this step, simply drain the water, and add the spices now.
**You can hold the spinach at this stage either on the stove or overnight in the fridge and just reheat and add the cream and cheese when you’re almost ready to serve.

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No NAIS!

Crossroads

On the day of my 45th birthday

this poem was published in the

Sanctuary at the Women's

Colony. I love it and thank

the author, Joyce Sutphen,

for writing this poem honoring

the process of living a life

beyond youth.

Crossroads


The second half of my life will be black
to the white rind of the old and fading moon.
The second half of my life will be water
over the cracked floor of these desert years.
I will land on my feet this time,
knowing at least two languages and who
my friends are. I will dress for the
occasion and my hair shall be
whatever color I please.
Everyone will go on celebrating the old
birthday, counting the years as usual,
but I will count myself new from this
inception, this imprint of my own desire.

The second half of my life will be swift,
past leaning fenceposts, a gravel shoulder,
asphalt tickets, the beckon of open road.
The second half of my life will be wide-eyed,
fingers sifting through fine sands,
arms loose at my sides, wandering feet.
There will be new dreams every night,
and the drapes will never be closed.
I will toss my string of keys in into a deep
well and old letters into the grate.

The second half of my life will be ice
breaking up on the river, rain
soaking the fields, a hand
held out, a fire,
and smoke going
upward, always up.


~Joyce Sutphen
Straight Out Of View, New Rivers Press

My Readers, I love them!