Sleeper Hit

Every so often, a recipe comes along that causes us to pause and say damn, that was so good and easy. Why haven't we made this before?

And then it effortlessly slides into the recipe rotation like it has been there all along.

Ryan recently discovered one such recipe, Spicy Orange Salad, Moroccan Style, that was featured in the New York Times Magazine a few weeks ago.

Seriously people. This is so easy to make, it's ridiculous. The flavors are so surprisingly different. Who knew oranges and olives went together so well?

The most time-consuming part is peeling off the pulp. But once that's done, just combine with a mixture of olive oil, vinegar, spices, olives, and it's ready to go. No oven needed, no refrigerator necessary (but fine, if you want to serve chilled).

Ryan has made it on two separate occasions and garnered at least three requests for the recipe. So in case you wanted to ask, here it is.

Spicy Orange Salad, Moroccan Style (from the New York Times)

3 large seedless oranges (clementines work well)

1/8 t cayenne

1 t paprika

1/2 t garlic

3 T olive oil

1 T red-wine or sherry vinegar

Salt

Freshly ground black pepper

1/3 cup chopped parsley

12 pitted black olives

Peel the oranges and the pulp. Cut each orange into 8 wedges. Cut each wedge into 1-inch pieces. Set aside. Mix cayenne, paprika, olive oil, garlic, and vinegar into a bowl. Add salt and pepper to taste and whisk. Add oranges, parsley, and olives. Toss. Serve cold or at room temperature.

Serves 4.

Adventures at the Chicago French Market

On day 3 of my new job, I finally ventured into Chicago French Market - the new French-style indoor market located just steps from all of the Metra trains in Ogilvie Transportation Center.

Despite the florescent lighting and windowless, boxy space, it is nothing like a traditional food shopping experience.

Booths of fresh produce, ethnic delicacies, handmade pasta and breads, and a variety of artisan cheese, meat, and pastries stand ready for harried commuters to dash in and out moments later with enough ingredients to make whatever meal is envisioned for the evening.

Or so I thought.

I got there in plenty of time to wander around and look for items for this recipe - Feisty Green Beans from 101 Cookbooks. I was immediately drawn to this dish for its central use of green beans, one of my favorite veggies, and combination of spices.

I set out to find all of the ingredients that I needed to buy. Onions, garlic, green beans, and sour cream were easy. We had virtually everything else in the pantry except tofu, which was no where to be found.

I asked the cashier at the produce stand and she shook her head. I browsed the shelves of another small grocer. Nada. I did an entire loop around the market, and saw nothing that resembled tofu. I was starting to think that I would substitute chicken, when the guy behind the counter at Chicago Organics caught my eye.

"Can I help you?" he asked, eager to please.

"I'm looking for tofu. You don't have any by chance," I said, with hope.

He paused in thought, shook his head, and then said the words I dreaded to hear.

"No. I don't think anyone sells tofu here."

But then, then...

He reconsidered.

"But you might try asking at the Asian sandwich shop over there," he said, nodding to Saigon Sisters across the aisle. "Just ask, they might have some to sell to you. You never know."

I had nothing to lose.

I approached.

"Do you happen to have any uncooked tofu," I asked the smiling woman. "I need it for a recipe and can't find any."

She disappeared in the storage room, emerging a few minutes later with a vacuum-sealed package of fried tofu. Not uncooked, but good enough for me.

"I'll sell it to you for $2.50," she said. "And do you want some bread?" she gestured to a bowl of mini-baguettes. "You can have it for free."

I paid, took a loaf, and went off in search of cheese.

I barely made my train.

What I've Learned

Growing up I always made a big deal about my birthday, mostly because I was a year younger than most of my friends and always felt behind.

I saw my birthday as a day to catch up, and everyone knew it. Exactly three months prior, I would start to self promote so by the time the big day rolled around, anyone who forgot incurred my wrath. Then my friends turned a year older, and that longing to be the same age started all over again.

That all changed once I turned 30 and no longer felt so eager to catch up.

So that may explain why nine days ago, a very important birthday of sorts slipped by without me even realizing it: my two-year blogiversary! But really, it was two years ago that I subscribed to a CSA and changed my eating and cooking habits. (Technically I didn't receive my first box of produce until November 16, so I suppose I have some time yet.)

When I started this CSA experiment, I wasn't sure if I would really take the time to find recipes, cook, and manage to eat the stuff too. But it has become a new way of life for me.

I went from buying the same boring foods at the grocery store to getting unidentifiable veggies that I had to figure out how to make.

I went from coming home from work, ordering takeout, and planting myself on the couch in front of the tv all night to chopping onions and garlic, sauteing with spices and veggies, and going straight to bed after eating and cleaning up. (Except when Lost is on. Two more months!)

Along the way I have collected some favorite recipes: strawberry and feta salad; chicken tajine; rhubarb crisp bars; pasta with butternut squash and sage, and so many others that I was just plain lazy to blog about.

I have learned important lessons about cooking: always make at least one test batch when baking pumpkin pie for a holiday dinner; always put a lid on the pan when popping popcorn on the stovetop; and food left out too long or stored incorrectly will rot (and when this happens, I will feel sad).

I also have made many discoveries about food and my own tastes and habits: I don't like a vegetables that rhyme with arse-snips; potatoes come in different colors; and grating beets is tiring, turns my hands magenta, and inspires bad, punny dialogue between me and Ryan (Me: I'm beat. Ryan: You're doing great, Hon.) I never wrote a blog post about this, so you'll have to take my word for it.

I now know what sunchokes, rutabega, celeriac, salsify, and rhubarb look like.

I think some foods taste best when eaten raw: raspberries, grape tomatoes, carrots, and strawberries.

I would be nothing without onions and garlic.

But most of all I have gained tremendous appreciation for the farmers, who deliver fresh and delicious produce week after week. I have learned that no matter how hard they work, sometimes the weather has other plans. Like last summer too much rain destroyed crops, and my CSA decided to delay deliveries for a few weeks to let the farmers catch up.

I know the feeling of wanting to catch up. But as long as they're growing food, I'm eating it, I hope, for many years to come.

Labor of Love

I find that cutting up a butternut squash is a labor of love.

First it takes a huge knife and some serious upper arm strength to cut one in half, much patience with a vegetable peeler, especially around the bulb, and a final burst of wherewithal to scrape out the seeds. But after I have skinned and chopped up the squash into little pieces (that sounds so gory), I feel like I am home free, even though I am just getting started.

After a moment to appreciate the vibrant color, it is time to roast. This takes 1 1/2 hours, if you follow the recipe that I did, and another 20 minutes on the stove top.

Have you figured out what we're making yet?

It looks so harmless, doesn't it?

Roasted Butternut Squash Soup (adapted from seriouseats.com)

2-3 tablespoons olive oil

1 butternut squash, peeled, seeded, and cut into 1-inch pieces

1 onion, sliced or chopped

1 head of garlic, cloves peeled and separated

3 1/2 cups of chicken broth

salt

pepper

Preheat oven to 350 degrees. Toss squash with olive oil, onions, garlic, salt, and 1 cup of broth. Bake for 1 1/2 hours, checking occasionally to turn mixture. Mix in a large pot with 2 1/2 cups of broth on low-medium heat for 20 minutes. I used an immersion blender to mix and added salt and pepper to taste.

Smokin' Hot

Roasting has become a favorite way to cook vegetables like broccoli, potatoes, and cauliflower. Just toss with olive oil, salt, pepper, and garlic, bake on high heat and the veggies come out crisp with a smoky garlicky flavor. (Last week I squeezed lemon over the broccoli after it came out of the oven and grated Parmesan cheese at this suggestion - so good!)

That's why I was excited to find this recipe for roasted tomato and red bell pepper soup today. It's gotten much more fall-like in Chicago. Granted we've had a cooler summer than usual but suddenly the temps are more 40s and 50s than 60s and 70s. All I want to do is turn on the oven and eat hot food.

Fresh off Wednesday's colorful box of CSA produce, I wanted to use up the tomatoes and red bell peppers as soon as possible because of dinner plans tonight and tomorrow night. This easy recipe calls for roasting (yay!) those two ingredients plus several cloves of garlic and sliced onions.

Aside from my smoke detector going off mid-roast and having to haul out the ladder to unplug the battery (bad, I know, but I couldn't make it stop and worried that my neighbors would call the fire department) and having to open windows to let out some of the smokiness (also bad, now that the heat is on), the veggies charred beautifully.

They might have charred a little too much, actually, because when I pureed all of this in the blender, there were bits of what looked like huge black pepper flakes everywhere. If I was more concerned about the appearance of the soup, I might have strained those out. But to me, it didn't affect the flavor, which had a nice balance between the peppers and tomatoes.

That reminds me, I better go plug that battery back in.

Roasted Tomato and Red Bell Pepper Soup (adapted from Bon Appetit)

2 T olive oil

3 tomatoes, sliced in half lengthwise

2 red bell peppers, deseeded and sliced in wide strips

1 onion, sliced in thin wedges

5 cloves of garlic, peeled

salt

pepper

1/2 t dried thyme

2 cups water

1/4 c crumbled goat cheese

Preheat oven to 450 degrees. Arrange tomatoes, peppers, onion, and garlic on baking sheet (even though this creates an extra dish to wash, I like to toss all the veggies with olive oil, salt, and pepper in a bowl before placing on the baking sheet, or you can sprinkle it on after they are arranged). Roast for 40 minutes. Afterwards, place roasted veggies in the blender with thyme and water and puree to your consistency of choice. This soup can be chilled for a few hours and served cold or hot with crumbled goat cheese and fresh sprigs of thyme.

Mess

My kitchen is a mess. Dishes, pots, and the food processor are coated with an oil slick of mushed up basil, garlic, pine nuts, and parmesan cheese. 

It's all the basil's fault. I got a bag of the leafy green herb in my CSA this week and knew I had to make pesto. 

I have never made pesto before but was first introduced to how delicious it could be in a pizza that I ate in Riomaggiore, the smallest of the five villages in Cinque Terre in Italy's Liguria region. 

That was over 10 years ago and it took me until now to make it. Actually we've been getting bags of different herbs in almost each delivery and most of them have gone to the composting worms or in the trash after not using them in time. 

So I made fresh basil pesto over pasta and served with a CSA salad of lettuce, cucumbers, and pine nuts (not from the CSA) tossed with a homemade dressing of olive oil, red wine vinegar, salt, pepper, and a clove of minced garlic.

I can't say that what I made tasted as good as it did in Italy, but it came close. 

Basil, I forgive you.

Fresh Basil Pesto (adapted from Simply Recipes, another useful and wonderfully written food blog that I follow)

2 cups basil

1/2 cup grated parmesan or romano cheese

1/2 cup extra virgin olive oil

1/3 cup pine nuts or walnuts

3 cloves garlic (I love garlic and added 4 cloves, and the garlic flavor really popped)

salt and pepper to taste

Put basil and pine nuts in a food processor and pulse a few times (note: I pulsed quite a bit because it took awhile for the basil to start mixing up). Add garlic and pulse some more. Drizzle olive oil and pulse, stopping frequently to scrape mixture off the sides. Toss in the cheese and pulse a few more times until blended. I added a tiny bit of salt but didn't think it needed much salt and pepper at all. Serve over pasta.

Spicy Valentine

We observed Valentine's Day on Sunday. I made dinner while Karl snacked on the flowers that Ryan got me.

I made a recipe from a cookbook called Where Flavor Was Born, which is organized by spices found in countries along the Indian Ocean. The dish came from the chapter on cardamom - green pods that taste like licorice.

The recipe had plenty of other spices too and turned out to be one of the most flavorful dishes that I've made.

Chicken Cardamom Masala with Cashews (From Where Flavor Was Born by Andreas Viestad)

1/2 cup plain full-fat yogurt
2 tablespoons garam masala
6-10 cardamom pods, lightly bruised
1 1-inch piece of cinnamon stick
2 teaspoons chili powder, or more to taste
2 teaspoons chopped fresh ginger
2 teaspoons salt
1 chicken, cut into 8 pieces, or 4 chicken thighs, halved (I used chicken breasts)
1 teaspoon powdered turmeric
Oil for panfrying
4 onions, chopped
3-5 cloves of garlic, chopped
4-6 teaspoons cashews
1-2 tablespoons tomato paste or ketchup
1/4 cup heavy cream (optional - I didn't use this)
Chopped cilantro or parsley for garnish

I also tossed in cauliflower and made brown rice.

In a large bowl, combine the yogurt, garam masala, cardamom, cinnamon stick, chili powder, ginger, and salt. Add the chicken, turning to coat. Let marinate for as long as you have time. Use a spatula to scrape of as much of the marinade from the chicken as possible; reserve the marinade. Pat the chicken dry using paper towels, and sprinkle with turmeric. Heat a tablespoon of oil in a wide pot over high heat. Add the chicken and cook, turning occasionally, for 10 minutes, or until the skin is nicely browned. Remove chicken, reduce heat, and saute onions and garlic for 4-5 minutes, until starting to soften. Add chicken, reserved marinade, cashews, and tomato paste, cover, and cook for 25-30 minutes, until the chicken is cooked through. Stir in cream (if desired) and cook for 2 more minutes. Garnish with cilantro.

A Moroccan Meal

We try to keep the kitchen uncluttered with gadgets. But for Ryan, the holidays bring out a certain interest in international ceramic dishware. Over the past two years, he has gifted me with a few items that one might not find in most American kitchens.

Last year, he shopped at the Christkindlmart in Daley Plaza and bought me a zwiebeln jar, which means onions in German. This year, he followed up with a smaller knoblauch jar for garlic. Considering the amount of onions and garlic that come in the CSA, and how I use these indispensible ingredients in more recipes than I can count, I treasure these jars. There is the kitsch factor to appreciate too.

He also bought me another item that we had been contemplating - a tajine. The conical clay pots are used in Morocco to slow cook meat, veggies, fruit, and spices. The pointy top collects the steam and returns the condensation to cook the food in the dish. Lovely aromas ensue.

There are many different combinations that can go in the tajine, but commonly used foods include chicken, lamb, pork, fish, onions, peppers, potatoes, tomatoes, apples, pears, prunes, raisins, dates, cinnamon, turmeric, ginger, cumin, paprika, and saffron. Lemons and olives are frequently used ingredients.

Our came from a local giftshop that sells stuff like mood crystals and smells powerfully of patchouli. Unfortunately this odor had seeped into the tajine and failed to go away no matter how much we washed it. Finally we crossed our fingers that the food would taste okay.

The tajine came with a simple chicken recipe. It called for dried apricots, which always remind me of my grandmother, who passed away when I was a teenager.

I have this memory of us taking one of those tiny airplanes with an aisle you need to sidestep through and an overhead compartment that fits nothing but a jacket. It was a bumpy flight through the mountains so to calm our nerves from the turbulence, she took out a bag of apricots and handed them across the aisle one by one.

Each holiday season, my grandfather sends a bucket of trail mix. For some reason, he sent apricots this time. We mixed them with the other ingredients in the dish, put the whole deal in the oven, and passed the time with a Bollywood movie called Uriya.

Two hours later the oven buzzed. We were still watching this very long movie but paused to see how it turned out. The chicken was succulent and infused with flavor. There was no hint of patchouli although it was a bit too sweet - next time I would go easy on the honey. But the meal was one of the easiest to make and most delicious that I've eaten in a long time.

We then watched the end of the movie in which (spoiler warning!) the male lead, in trying to prevent his lady love from committing the terrorist act of detonating a bomb at India's Independence Day parade, begged her to blow them up together instead. And she did.

I suppose there is something to say about the different ways that people show love for one another, but I will leave it at that.

Holman Pottery* Tajine Recipe
4 chicken breasts, skinned

1/4 cup honey

1 large onion, chopped

3 cloves garlic, minced

2 sticks cinnamon

Juice of 1 lemon

2 teaspoons turmeric

1/2 cup dried apricot quarters

Preheat oven to 350. Arrange chicken breasts in bottom of tajine. Pour honey over chicken; sprinkle with onion and then with minced garlic. Add cinnamon sticks and sprinkle with lemon juice and turmeric. Top with apricot quarters, cover. Bake for about 2 hours or until fork can be inserted in chicken with ease. Remove cinnamon sticks from chicken mixture and serve with rice or couscous. Makes 4 servings.

* Makers of our tajine.

Cry, Cry, Cry

While I haven't been very diligent about photographing my meals lately, I used a lot of food from my CSA this week.

On Sunday night my intention was to make the yellow spaghetti squash that had been taunting me from its waiting place on my kitchen table. I had never prepared nor eaten spaghetti squash before, but with Ryan on a business trip and a prior bad experience with the food, I thought it would be a good time to make it and catch up on some trashy tv.

Of course I was too tired to cook on Sunday night, so I vowed to make it on Monday and even found a recipe for pear and radicchio salad to go along with it, since those were two other items from last week's box.

Instead I *prepared* a dish, which is what I used to do all the time before I truly started to cook. I took the last 5 potatoes that didn't make it into the kugel and threw them in a pot of boiling water. Once softened, I mashed with butter and salt and paired with a small salad consisting of the remaining green lettuce and carrots from the CSA.

Then I watched Extreme Home Makeover and cried at the reveal.

Of course I was too tired to cook on Monday night, so after staring down the squash, I vowed to make it on Tuesday and scrambled some eggs with sauteed diced leeks and sliced heirloom tomotoes, both from the CSA. I prefer my tomatoes of the grape variety, but I have to say that these orange-colored orbs were sweet and tasted delicious mixed with the eggs.

Then I watched Gossip Girl and cried when I realized it was a repeat of the season premiere.

Tuesday night was the second presidential debate, and I was determined to make that squash, especially since Ryan was home and game to eat it. I preheated the oven to 375, poked some holes in its gleaming skin, and stuck it in the oven for an hour. While it cooked, I chopped a head of radicchio with pears and tossed with a dressing of garlic, olive oil, salt, pepper, and lemon juice.

Once the squash was ready, I sliced it open (my knife went through it like butter), scooped out the seeds and gook, and used a fork to gently peel away the strands. I was enthralled with how much it looked like spaghetti! We made a recipe called spaghetti squash with Moroccan spices. I should say that the recipe recommended microwaving the squash, which I find horrific for some reason, but I found that baking it made my kitchen smell really good.

We then cried (with joy) as Obama thumped McCain.

Spaghetti Squash with Moroccan Spices (from epicurious.com)

1 (3 1/2- to 4-pound) spaghetti squash
1/2 stick (4 tablespoons) unsalted butter, cut into pieces
2 garlic cloves, minced
1 teaspoon ground cumin
1/2 teaspoon ground coriander
1/8 teaspoon cayenne
3/4 teaspoon salt
2 tablespoons chopped fresh cilantro

Pierce squash (about an inch deep) all over with a small sharp knife to prevent bursting. Cook in an 800-watt microwave oven on high power (100 percent) for 6 to 7 minutes. Turn squash over and microwave until squash feels slightly soft when pressed, 8 to 10 minutes more. Cool squash for 5 minutes.

Meanwhile, melt butter in a small heavy saucepan over moderately high heat. Add garlic and cook, stirring, until golden, about 1 minute.

Chopping and Chakras

When I moved into my condo two years ago, I often heard a man chanting somewhere outside my window while I was in my kitchen. I never knew where it came from, but it sounded like rapid-fire meditation with chakras in full gear. Gradually I stopped noticing, even when I started spending more time in the kitchen.

Yesterday I was in a very domestic state - cleaning, doing laundry, and other chores - when I decided to make sauteed summer squash with red pepper and onion for lunch. I had all of those vegetables from my last CSA delivery, along with garlic and parsley. It was one of those rare occasions where I had everything at my fingertips.

But the recipe required a lot of prep work. As I chopped vegetables, lost in my own thoughts, I suddenly heard the chanting outside my window. I peered out but only heard the familiar rhythmic mantras of someone seeking spiritual nirvana.

Wikipedia describes meditation as a mental discipline that is practiced for many possible reasons: to achieve "a higher state of consciousness, to greater focus, creativity or self-awareness, or simply a more relaxed and peaceful frame of mind."

I've never formally meditated in my life, except for belting out a couple of long "oms" during yoga class. But for me, cooking is a form of meditation. I find myself very focused as I manage the whole food preparation process into a meal to be eaten.

Cooking is a good activity for goal-oriented people who like to see tangible results after they put a lot of hard work into something. It reminds me of why I once trained for a marathon. After several months of hard work and motivation, I achieved a goal - an incredibly empowering and satisfying thing to do (although the pay off of cooking is eating, which is much more pleasurable than running 26.2 miles).

Maybe that has nothing to do with meditation. I don't know. But I find that activities that require me to work with my hands, like cooking or gardening, tap into that creative part of my brain. There is something so rewarding about completing these kinds of projects. I always feel better afterwards - kind of like getting that runner's high.

Sauteed Summer Squash with Red Pepper and Onion (from The New York Times)

2 tablespoons extra virgin olive oil
1/2 medium onion, chopped (about 1 cup chopped) (I used a whole onion, medium sized)
2 plump garlic cloves, minced (I love garlic and used 5 medium-sized cloves)
1 1/2 pounds summer squash, cut in 1/2-inch dice (I used 2 squash)
1 small red pepper, cut in 1/4-inch dice
Salt and freshly ground pepper
2 tablespoons chopped fresh parsley

Heat the olive oil in a large, heavy skillet over medium heat, and add the onion. Stir often and cook until tender, five to eight minutes, then add the garlic, summer squash, red pepper and about 3/4 teaspoon of salt. Turn the heat to medium-high and cook, stirring, until the squash is translucent and the red pepper tender, about 10 minutes. Add freshly ground pepper, taste and adjust salt. Stir in the parsley, and remove from the heat. Serve as a side dish, or use it as a filling for a vegetable tart, gratin or frittata. (I served over brown rice.)

Going Greek

I made a refreshing and easy Greek salad recipe last night using mostly local ingredients.

The cucumbers came from Ginkgo Organic Gardens on Chicago's north side. I've been volunteering here throughout the summer, although this is the first item of produce that I've taken home with me. That's because all the food grown here is donated to Vital Bridges, an Uptown non-profit that serves low-income, HIV-positive individuals.

I absolutely love this idea because when I think of food pantries, I think of canned goods that are high in sodium and not always nutritious. In fact, I was even made fun of once for buying a low-fat, low-sodium canned soup to donate to a food drive, but I felt that someone who can't afford to eat healthy shouldn't eat this kind of processed food in the first place.

That's what leads to health problems like obesity and high cholesterol for a group of people who have little access to quality health care.

I don't know of any other dedicated "food pantry" gardens in the city, but this one donates about 1,500 pounds of food a year - all from a lot that is the size of single family home. When I think about all the vacant lots in Chicago, a lot of people could be fed with nutritious produce.

Yesterday after all the food had been harvested for the weekly delivery, I was helping to clear the cucumber bed when I discovered a few big ones left behind. We determined that they wouldn't last another week, which is how they ended up in my salad.

I combined the cucumbers with some grape tomatoes that I picked up at a farmer's market on Damen in the North Center neighborhood and added a green pepper from my CSA. The rest of the ingredients were not so local - the red onion and feta cheese came from Whole Foods, as did the lemon that was squeezed into the dressing which included olive oil, garlic, salt, and pepper.

Greek Salad (from mediterrasian.com)

3 tablespoons extra virgin olive oil
1½ tablespoons lemon juice
1 clove garlic—minced (crushed)
½ teaspoon dried oregano
¼ teaspoon sea salt
¼ teaspoon freshly ground black pepper, and extra for garnish
3 tomatoes—cut into wedges
¼ red onion—sliced into rings
½ cucumber—sliced into thick half-moons
½ green pepper (capsicum)— julienned
4 oz (120g) feta cheese— cut into small cubes
16 kalamata olives (I didn't include olives)

Place the olive oil, lemon juice, garlic, salt, pepper and oregano in a small jar with a screw-top lid and shake to combine.

Place the salad ingredients in a large bowl.

Pour the dressing over the salad and toss gently to combine just before serving.

Garnish the Greek salad with a little freshly ground black pepper.

Camping Trip

As summer begins to wind down, I managed to squeeze in two short vacations over the past two weeks.

First I went to Missoula to visit my friend Ali, who moved from Chicago last year. (I'll blog about the second trip in a later post.) Every Saturday there are three farmer's markets, which we hit up to buy food for an overnight camping trip.

We got some onions, garlic, squash, carrots, chard, cheese, and potatoes to make a veggie stir fry over the campfire and what Ali calls a "tinfoil surprise" (put chopped up potatoes with whatever veggies you have in tinfoil, throw it into the fire for awhile, unwrap, and eat).

But our planned meals almost didn't happen.

We set out for a campground later that day, a spot a little over an hour away on the Bitterroot River.


We were car camping so we didn't bring a container or rope to sling the food up in a tree, but we did have some bear spray just in case.

But bears turned out to be the least of our problems.

We hadn't made a reservation and that campsite was full. So were the next 8 campsites that we tried.

We had driven around for about four hours and it was starting to get late when we pulled into Holland Lake. Apparently there are a lot of unmarked campsites in Montana where you just have to know where to go. Ali had been to the lodge at the lake before and knew there was camping. But from the road, we never would have known.

We pulled in, and there was one open site! So what if it was right next to the bathrooms with no view of the lake?

Then we realized that the site was reserved. It was also 7:30pm and would get dark in about an hour, so we decided to stay. The camp manager said that if the group came and kicked us out, we could set up our tent in the "day use" area.

We were hungry, so we took our chances and started to build a fire. Our wood was a little wet and moldy, so it didn't quite roar. We made our tinfoil surprises but since it was late, we decided to eat the veggie stir fry with eggs for breakfast the next day.

Even though it was practically dark, we held our breath every time a car went by on the road - hoping it wasn't the people who reserved our site.

By this point we were starving. Throwing in the surprises had just about killed the fire, but we kept them in the embers. One of them cooked a little more than the other, but they weren't bad with some added seasonings. And we didn't have to worry about putting out the fire, which took care of itself!

We tucked in the tent for some uninterrupted sleep (for me anyway, Ali thought she heard an animal in the middle of the night and couldn't fall back asleep).

The next morning, we walked down to the lake. It was spectacular!

We made our eggs and veggie stir fry (over her camp stove - no more fire), packed up, and headed home, thanking the Marsenichs on our way out for not showing up.