Category Archives: Point Hope

Roasted Garlic and Squash Gnocchi

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 Acorn squash and garlic, roasted and ready to become part of a batch of gnocchi.

This was my first attempt at homemade gnocchi, a form of pasta I really enjoy. The recipe I came up with today wasn’t difficult, but it was somewhat time consuming. I oven-roasted the acorn squash and the garlic for about 45 minutes. I then squeezed the soft, roasted contents out of each garlic skin (not the husks, but the skin itself) and mashed the garlic together with the squash once it was cool enough to handle. Then, I rolled the gnocchi dough into long, thin logs and chopped them into bite-sized pieces. I used a fork to make the traditional marks on the gnocchi–these slight indentations help sauce stick to the pasta.

Roasted Garlic and Acorn Squash Gnocchi

one acorn squash

one head of garlic

enough olive oil to coat a baking sheet with additional olive oil brushed onto the squash

3 cups all purpose flour (and more to coat rolling surface)

one egg

dash salt

Preheat oven to 350 degrees. Coat baking sheet with olive oil. Cut squash in half and remove seeds. Cut squash halves into 3 or 4 pieces. Brush olive oil onto squash pieces and place them skin side down. Place garlic cloves onto squash. Bake for 40 minutes or until squash and garlic are soft (a fork should go easily through the squash). Remove from oven and allow to cool.

When cooled, squeeze roasted garlic out of its skin into a bowl. Scoop soft squash meat out of its skin and place into same bowl. Mix thoroughly. Then mix in flour, egg and salt. You may need to add in more flour if mixture is too sticky. Dough should form into a nice ball.

Slice off an inch or so of the ball and roll it with the palm of your hands into a long “worm” no more than an inch in diameter. Make sure your surface is well floured. Cut off  pieces that are a little smaller than bite-sized. If you would like to make gnocchi with the fork indents, go to youtube and check out one of the videos. As they say, a picture is worth a thousand words. Once the gnocchi are formed, cook them in a pot of boiling water until they float to the top.

Serve with butter or olive oil and parmesan cheese or with a light tomato sauce. The gnocchi can also be fried in olive oil or butter and served with parmesan cheese.

This recipe makes about 200 gnocchi. Extras can be frozen.

Warm Memories of Savory Stuffed Cabbages

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Food memories have a huge positive impact on people’s lives. I once wrote a ten page essay titled “Soul Food”  to challenge a college English class. It was an analysis of foods from my past and how they have influenced the person I am now. I loved certain dinners my mom made…cheese pies and apple pies, beef burgundy stew over mashed potatoes, raclette. It’s obvious why, during the winter months, this blog turns most of its attention to food.

One of my strongest food memories is of my grandmother’s stuffed cabbages. We didn’t get to see my Nana very much as we lived 3,000 miles away. She would always spend hours in the kitchen, preparing for our visits. Sometimes, when she would visit us, she would cook cabbage rolls at our house. I especially loved the sweetness of the meat enveloped in the slow-cooked cabbage leaves. We asked her for the recipe but for whatever reason she never shared it. Maybe she thought it was her special gift to us to make it, not to teach us how to make it. After she died, I thought I would never taste Nana’s cabbage rolls again.

Several years ago, I bought  a crock pot and an accompanying recipe book. The book was an ordinary crock pot book. I cooked my way through it until I got to the stuffed cabbage recipe. My expectations were low. I was surprised and pleased (surpreased) to taste the results of the recipe which were nearly identical to my Nana’s cabbages!

I wound up selling the recipe book when I moved to Alaska. I did keep the one cabbage recipe in the event I wanted to recreate this delicious dish. Turns out at $7 a head, cabbage is not a depression era vegetable in the bush. It is gold…too rich for my blood. As luck would have it, a friend had most of a cabbage head she no longer wanted and traded me for granny smith apples she needed for a pie. Barter is still alive and well in bush Alaska!

From Crock-Pot Specialties

Spicy Cabbage Rolls

6 large cabbage leaves

2 tbsp water

1/4 cup minced onion

1/2 lb. lean ground beef

1 tbsp ketchup

1 small egg, lightly beaten

2 tbsp raw long grain rice

1/2 tsp salt

1/8 tsp pepper

8 oz. stewed tomatoes

2 tbsp raisins

2 tbsp cider vinegar

2 tbsp brown sugar

2 tbsp dark corn syrup

In a saucepan, immerse cabbage leaves in enough boiling water to cover and simmer for about 5 minutes or until pliable. Remove from water carefully and drain. In bowl, make stuffing by combining water, onion, ground beef, ketchup, egg, rice, salt, and pepper. Cut out heavy ribs from the cabbage leaves. Divide stuffing into 6 equal portions; place a portion in center of each cabbage leaf and fold the leaf around it. Secure with a wooden toothpick. Place the rolls seam side down in the crock-pot.

Combine remaining ingredients and pour over cabbage rolls. Cover and cook on Low setting for 8 – 10 hours.

Remove rolls to warm serving platter. Spoon sauce over rolls before serving.

2 or 3 servings (about 1 1/2 quarts)

Smacznego!

Arctic Sunset

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At 2:21 p.m. on December 6, 2011 the sun will set in Point Hope. Of course, in most places, the sun will rise again the next day. This is not the case here. The sun will not rise again until 1:56 p.m. on January 7, 2012.

This afternoon, I could see the most beautiful pink and orange reflection out my kitchen window. The sunset and the ocean called to me. It was 12 degrees out with just a light wind, tolerable with my down jacket, mittens, face mask, and snow boots. The colors in the sky were magical. Swatches of blues and pinks hovered above the icy sea washed with an electric orange glow. The snow leading to the beach was pristine except for scattered caribou prints. Seven foot cliffs of packed snow loomed over the eroded beach. The edge of the ocean was covered in undulating sheets of ice showing only patches of open sea. The frozen crust lifted and fell slowly as the ocean below it was beginning its winter slumber.

In California, I used to visit the coast in order to replenish my energy. The foaming and crashing sea along the West Coast always rejuvenated me, especially when my spirits were low. The Arctic Ocean imbues a person with a sense of calm and peace. As I looked to my left and right up and down the icy beach, others, too, were taking in the view.

Epic Storm Hits Point Hope, Alaska

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Looking out a high school window, we watched our sturdy home strain against hurricane force winds.

Monday, November 7, 2011. We watched the NOAA reports as a violent storm was pounding the Aleutian chain on its way northeast up the Bering Strait. On Tuesday morning, we headed to school as usual. The storm was supposed to hit our village hard at 9 p.m. All in the village were abuzz with the coming storm. A double warning had been issued – hurricane force winds and storm surges. The last storm of this magnitude to hit Point Hope was in 1974. I’m not sure how much of the town had moved to the new site (our current site) by then, but we heard stories that the underground storage areas had been flooded and some of the surge waters had made their way into the village.

The students were asking all sorts of questions: Will it flood? What would a 15-foot wave look like? Have you ever been in a hurricane? We tackled all the questions and found a video to watch about weather as the wind picked up outside and near whiteout conditions obscured the post office from view just across the street from the school.

In the late morning, the decision was made that the students should be sent home. The school bus (yes, this small village has a school bus!) delivered the students safely home and our staff prepared to turn the school into an emergency shelter.

Later, Jack and I tucked in at home. In anticipation of losing power, we charged our phone and laptop, set out flashlights, candles and matches, and filled our water bottles.  By late afternoon, the wind had been whipping through the town. Since there are no trees, it was difficult to visually assess the wind speed. The internet said 23 mph, then 39 mph, then 53 mph, gusts were being reported to 90 mph. Our house began shaking as the gusts grew heavier, and framed pictures on the walls were moving. The heavy wooden doors on an outside cabinet that houses our propane tank began creaking on their hinges and banging open and shut. We could hear the wind roaring through the village.

Through the worsening conditions, our sturdy little house generated confidence. No matter how it shook and shuddered, we were sure it would hold together.

At 5:00 AM, we awoke to fierce winds and no power.

The school had officially become the village’s emergency shelter. Families streamed in with blankets and cots for the elders and sleeping bags and air mattresses for the young. Our school is fairly large. One wing houses the elementary, one wing houses the high school with the middle school,  a small gym (which also operates as a cafeteria) and a large gym in the center. There was ample room to house the 500 people who ended up in the school. Our terrific cafeteria staff worked diligently to feed all the guests breakfast, lunch and dinner. Some rooms became quiet rooms for elders. Other rooms held whole families including nursing mothers and pets.

It was reported that a transformer had been knocked out, utility poles had been snapped, and wires were hanging loose. The high winds precluded linemen from flying out to our village. No one panicked. I think people knew the storm would pass, the winds would calm, the ocean waters would recede and power would be restored.

This morning, when the winds had quieted, Jack and I walked to the coast. The ocean waters were still roiling and the waves were still crashing against the shore. But it was only in the way a tantrumming child beats his fists to the ground when he is nearly out of steam. A seven foot bank of snow was packed up against the berm. The waves hammered away at the bank, evidenced by floating chunks of snow in the waves.

With the winds nearly blown out, planes were finally able to land, delivering the linemen. With steady work from one end of the town to the other, power was restored in it’s own wave from east to west. By about 4:30 p.m. most of the village of Point Hope was lit and houses were warming–and luckily so at that because had the outage lasted longer, there surely would have been frozen and burst water pipes in the freezing cold. The epic storm of 2011 is officially over.

Point Hope Storm, Nov 9

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Just a quick note to friends and followers who may be looking at the national weather news:

Although it’s blowing hard up here and we’re without power, all is well. The school is running on a generator and is a safe haven if we or others need to go there.

An Anniversary Gift

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Today’s the day we are celebrating our anniversary. Jack made us an amazing breakfast of savory grits topped with buttered pecans, sour cream and maple syrup. He’s planning a feast for us tonight – I saw filet mignon, scallops, halibut cheeks, and shrimp defrosting on the counter. Mmmmm…

Hundreds of miles from everywhere, our gifts to each other are in kindnesses. It’s not that we are not kind on other days. Today is about extra kindness and extra effort. I really appreciate Jack. He is an amazing person. He is kind and generous and funny, of course. But what I appreciate most about him is how he always tries to leave a place better than he found it. The word “place” is literal and figurative. If we rent a cabin, it will be a little cleaner than we found it. If it is a relationship, it’s always better after Jack has been involved.

My gift to him is biscotti. I thought of biscotti today because it takes extra time and effort. I wanted a complex blend of flavors and thought of cranberry, orange and almond. A carefully zested orange was juiced. The zest was cut into tiny pieces. The almonds were toasted in a pan with butter.

Biscotti is labor intensive. It has to be baked in a loaf. Then cooled. Then baked again after it is cut into slices. Then baked once more to crisp the opposite side. My last touch is to drizzle it with a hint of white chocolate – just for looks. Every time the biscotti is baked or turned or drizzled, I think of the kindness I am doing for my best friend. Happy Anniversary, Jack!

Cranberry Orange Almond Biscotti

Ingredients:

2 1/2 cups all purpose flour

1 tsp. baking powder

1/2 tsp. salt

1/2 cup light brown sugar

1/2 cup white sugar

1 stick unsalted butter

2 eggs

1 tsp. almond syrup

1 tbsp. orange zest

juice of a small orange

1 cup dried cranberries

3/4 cup chopped almonds

optional white chocolate drizzle

Process:

Preheat oven to 350F. Line a baking sheet with parchment paper.

Combine flour, baking powder and salt in a medium bowl. Stir. Mix together sugar, butter, eggs and almond syrup until well blended in another bowl. Stir in orange zest and orange juice. Mix in flour mixture. Then mix in almonds and cranberries. Divide dough in half. With floured hands, shape dough into two long logs on the parchment papered baking sheet. They should be about 2 1/2 inches wide, 9 1/2 inches long and 1 inch tall.

Bake until golden brown, about 35 minutes. Cool until you can easily handle. Transfer to cutting board and cut logs into 1/2 inch wide slices. Discard parchment. Move slices back onto baking sheet, sliced side down. Bake for 10 minutes. Flip biscotti and bake for an additional 5 minutes. Biscotti should just start to color. Cool completely on cooling rack.

After biscotti is cool, drizzle with chocolate or dip for a finished look.

Buon Appetito!

Stuffed Cookies or What Do I Do With My Leftover Halloween Candy?

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What to do with leftover Halloween candy? We could eat it. We could bring it to work and subject our co-workers to it. Both choices are possible, but not very original.

After searching around for recipes, I came across a blog where the author stuffed cookies with candy pieces. Hmmm… She provided no recipe, so I was on my own. One of the most classic and tested cookies is Nestle’s Tollhouse cookie recipe on the back of the morsel bag. As a matter of fact, I was just talking to a friend who told me her mother was putting together a family recipe book and was going to include the Nestle recipe because it was just the best. So I followed the Tollhouse recipe sans chocolate chips. I flattened one scoop of dough on a cookie sheet, inverted a miniature Reese’s Peanut Butter Cup, flattened another scoop on top and baked as directed.

These cookies came out fabulous! And now I’ve got a more original way of sharing left-over Halloween candy.

Alaska Cuisine–Moose Meat Lasagna!

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As we were leaving a friend’s house the other night after dinner and a game of Scrabble, she opened the freezer near the front door of her house (up here lots of people keep a freezer in their “kunnituck”–the front mud room). “Here! Have some moose meat!” She put a two-pound roast and a package of ground moose in my hands. We’ll save the roast for daughter Maia’s visit in December. But the ground moose… I knew right away what I wanted to do with that.

There’s some debate about whether or not lasagna is lasagna unless there’s ricotta cheese in it. Bush Alaska ain’t for purists. With plenty of mozzarella and parmesan on hand, we set about making our own version of Bush Lasagna. Tomato paste, diced tomatoes, garlic, onions, spinach (frozen), Italian herbs, ground pepper and olive oil laid down in layers amidst freshly made pasta and finished with a final layer of mozzarella, sprinkled with parmesan and topped off with Kalamata olives. Two big pans–one for now, one for the freezer.

Sod and Whalebone Home, Tikigaq

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This semi-subteranian sod, driftwood and whalebone home was the last such structure to be inhabited in the old village of Tikigaq on Point Hope. It was abandoned in 1975, and by that time was hooked up to electricity. Prior to electricity, these homes were illuminated and heated with seal oil lamps and are reported to have been quite warm. Near the homes, people dug cellars which served as year-round deep freezers.

Caribou, seal, walrus and whale bones are scattered across the grassy tundra, and where people once lived now ground squirrels make their homes. Much of the land that was once inhabited has long since been washed away as generations of winter storms have eroded the peninsula. There have been times when polar bears have used structures in the old village as temporary winter dens. Snowy and short-eared owls, which hunt by day, along with marsh harriers keep the squirrels and voles in check.

Old Tikigaq–The Last Shaman

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The last of the shamans of Point Hope, a man by the name of Masiin, lived in this house in the now-abandoned village of Tikigaq.

The history of shamans in Inupiat culture is a complex one. At the turn of the century, a man identified in texts as both a shaman and a chief, Atanjauraq, grew wealthy trading with the whale hunters of several nations who had settled near Point Hope in a polyglot village called Jabbertown. The ruins of this village are still discernible, albeit barely, as raised mounds a mile or so east of present day Point Hope. Atanjauraq’s increasing wealth was accompanied by a taste for alcohol. As he grasped for ever more power, he created enemies and ended up murdered by his own people while sleeping off a drunk.

Shaman Masiin, the last shaman of Tikigaq, died of natural causes in 1958. In his book The Things That Were Said of Them: Shaman Stories and Oral Histories of the Tikigaq People, Tom Lowenstein reports this story told by an individual named Asatchag.

“It was 1953, wintertime. My wife invited Masiin to supper. And after we had eaten, the old man told several stories. Then he called me by name and told us he’d been traveling last night. He’d been to Russia. And when he’d flown round for a while, he saw the Russian boss. ‘That’s a bad man,’ said Masiin, ‘so I killed him.’ Next day, at three o’clock–we had a battery radio–I listened at my coffee break. The news announcer said Stalin was dead.”

To add mystery to the above story, it is reported that Masiin did not listen to American radio, and knew no English.