Good morning, dear reader, on this first day of March. It reached 50 degrees yesterday, at these farthest reaches of Cape Cod. That’s the first time this winter. We celebrated with a long, low-tide walk at one of our local beaches.
Soon, within ten days, I imagine, the snow will finally melt in the forest, and for the first time in six weeks, we’ll return to the trails. To think we came south to the Cape Cod National Seashore, thinking we would not have to contend with much snow. It appears we brought a bit of White Mountains weather with us.
It will not be as warm today, but the sun is bright and the days longer, and that makes me hopeful for the coming of a very different spring. Usually, at this time of year, we’re still on the road for two more months, and when we returned to Jackson, traces of snow and plenty of mud greeted us.
This year is different, as many of you know. Our marathon National Parks road trip is shifting to summer. We’ll leave the week of the vernal equinox and return just as summer ends.
I’ve just begun planning our route.
We know we’ll be centered in Kanab, Utah, for at least a month. It is the epicenter of the Southwest, with access to Zion, Bryce Canyon, and the Grand Canyon. It’s right next to Grand Escalante National Monument. Other parts of the trip will have us returning to the Deep South, Pacific Coast Highway, the scenic beaches of Oregon, and, of course, bison country. We’re adding stops we’ve not been able to reach due to the deep snows of winter and spring. There are even some National Parks we’ve yet to get to, even after seven years of cross-country road tripping.
And yet, our route is not entirely plotted out. There’s always room for whimsy and editing. One aspect I look forward to is celebrating the 100th anniversary of Route 66.
This spring is special for me personally. Ten years ago, I suffered a heart attack, kidney failure, stroke, multiple blood clots, internal bleeding, sepsis, and other items from the Pupu Platter of Death. Doctors later admitted that they never expected me to survive my five weeks in the hospital. When pressed, two admitted, “We did not expect you to survive.” When pressed further, as only a man who danced with the Lady in Black can do, they both said, “You’ll be extremely lucky to make it another five years.” One of them added, “Definitely not ten.”
I think that when May 1, the day I returned home from Maine Med to a struggling Atticus, who would later die in my arms on March 13, I’ll breathe a little differently, count my blessings, even more than usual, and feel as though I’ve outrun my fate. But I still have two months to go before that celebration.
That’s one of the many reasons why the fates are intriguing in bringing us to Truro. Most don’t know the story I’ll share in the coming weeks or why I believe in the mysterious ways of the Universe.
To mark 10 years, I’ll share more recipes with all readers. You’ll find them hardy, heart-smart, low-sodium, and low-fat.
These are just some of my recent meals, and I’ll share each of these recipes with you. Also coming is my vegan Italian Wedding Soup, and I will even share my pie crust recipe with you. That will come later in the spring, since it is a well-kept secret.
I will definitely share an item I picked up for Rob Travers. You may remember Rob as the fellow we met on a Moab hiking trail two winters ago. As chance would have it, even though Rob is from Shirley, Massachusetts, we met him on the same trail last year, too, and only 100 yards or so from the original spot. The second time, he was with his lovely wife, Ginny.
Rob is a fellow heart survivor, and when we talked about how we prepare food, something he said stuck with me. It was going to be a surprise, but after reading this, he’ll know that he’s about to receive a special little package. I won’t say what’s in it yet. (Life needs to retain some mystery, after all.)
(You’ll find a link to this curiously-timed reunion when we encountered Rob and Ginny last February at the end of this letter.)
Today’s breakfast was a tofu and veggie scramble. These are heart smart, as long as you don’t have them too often, and easy to make. The only limit is your imagination. I use super-firm tofu and begin by preheating a frying pan. I know it’s hot enough when a few drops of water dance around the pan in a frenzy. This part is important since I do not use oil.
The recipe changes each time I make it, depending on what ingredients I have available. I began today by browning chopped onions for a few minutes over medium heat. Then came minced garlic. That was followed by sliced mushrooms, frozen pepper slices, and, a few minutes later, an entire block of tofu crumbled by hand. I would have added sliced cherry tomatoes, but I did not have any. I did, however, have small boiled potatoes left over from yesterday. I quartered them and added them to the mixture.
Next came the spices. A half teaspoon each of turmeric, black cumin, black sesame seeds, and black pepper. Two tablespoons of nutritional yeast followed. Then, two cups of baby kale. (You can use any green you wish, but it is important you add them. Your arteries will be thrilled by your choice as nitric oxide is released, and your blood vessels relax.) Cook until the greens are shriveled.
I plated my breakfast with a side of low-sodium BBQ sauce for the potatoes and a topping of low-sodium salsa.
An Announcement
A few days ago, overjoyed with how we came out of the blizzard, I announced a fundraising sale. Not only do new subscribers receive 20% off an annual subscription, but half the proceeds from the sale go to animal rescue. (All our subscription sales are also fundraising sales for animal rescue.) On top of that, I’m overjoyed with these new Cape Cod note cards, and each person taking advantage of this deal receives a written note from me. A pile has already been sent in the last few days.
The sale ends tomorrow at midnight.
The offer also applies to gift subscriptions. Give a gift subscription, I’ll reach out for your mailing address, and write you a card.
A Stunning Reunion with Rob Travers
This letter from Moab last February describes the remarkable synchronicity of running into Rob Travers from Massachusetts, on the same trail a year later. I am forever intrigued by how our travels come laced with enchantment. Click their photo below to revisit the piece.
