piles of grass

With more rain than usual, lawns are being mowed - my brother mowed ours yesterday.

Out my window, I see a neighbor mowed his

and left little piles of grass. Why does it make me think of Monet, and his rolled-up bales of hay? 

the journey

 "By baptism we are grafted onto Christ so as to form with him one single body - his Mystical Body. We are given life by his very Spirit. His divine sentiments enter into us in ever-increasing measure, in proportion as we strip ourselves of our own. That is how we receive the adoption of the sons of God"

                                                          -  Fr. Juan G. Arintero

"But we cannot think of life as a journey without accepting that it must involve change and growth."

                                                        -   Esther de Waal,  Seeking God: the Way of St. Benedict

spring beauties

A goldfinch at the feeder with forsythia in the background -

The plum tree in bloom with our neighbor's shed showing behind it -

Some wisdom in my reading -

"...if you understand people you're of use to them whether you can do anything tangible or not. Understanding is a creative act in a dimension we do not see."

                                        -  Elizabeth Goudge,   The Scent of Water

personality, and other things

My project today was to finally do my state income taxes. Now I can relax. I never intend to leave them till the end, but I keep putting household things first. A dumb idea, in certain circumstances. 

 Our weather this week has suddenly turned warmer, and the clothes in my closet are not entirely suitable for temperatures in the sixties and seventies. This has got me scrambling. I am also thinking about what I'd like to sew next. I like this Nepheline blouse. 

I was starting on the soup, sauteeing onion, etc., and I saw Leo outside, or maybe it was Leon - I have never seen them together, so am never sure. He was in the driveway; I tapped on the back door and he saw me. I went back to my cooking for a while, but Daisy somehow realized he was out there, and when I returned to the door, he was on the step.

He smelled the food, I'll bet. I put the chair there for Daisy to get a better view. 

He didn't stay very long - I hope he went home to Dianne. Some of her cats are true wanderers, wanting to be outside all the time. I was just about to say it was a little excitement for Daisy, but she doesn't really need anything like that for stimulation; she is submerged in cat madness lately. 

Can you guess what this is?

She started pulling down my bath towel the other day. She did it twice. But I have a solution.

I just need to unpin it before I get in the shower. I mean, to remember to unpin it.

I took this during the eclipse, in a quiet moment.

The Medieval Mind of C.S. Lewis is very interesting. The author, Jason Baxter, quotes Lewis:

"In all previous ages that I can think of the principal aim of rulers, except at rare and short intervals, was to keep their subjects quiet, to forestall or extinguish widespread excitement and persuade people to attend quietly to their several occupations. And on the whole their subjects agreed with them. They even prayed (in words that sound curiously old-fashioned) to be able to live "a peaceable life in all godliness and honesty" and "pass their time in rest and quietness." But now the organization of mass excitement seems to be almost the normal organ of political power. We live in an age of "appeal", "drives", and "campaigns." Our rulers have become like schoolmasters and are always demanding "keenness." And you notice that I am guilty of a slight archaism in calling them "rulers." "Leaders" is the modern word. I have suggested elsewhere that this is a deeply significant change of vocabulary. Our demand upon them has changed no less than theirs on us. For of a ruler one asks justice, incorruption, diligence, perhaps clemency; of a leader, dash, initiative, and (I suppose) what people call "magnetism" or "personality." 

earthquakes in various places

 A co-worker yesterday said to me, Did you know there was an earthquake in New York this morning? No, I was pretty busy at the main desk, handing out eclipse glasses. But those who were upstairs at the library felt it. 

California often has quakes, and when there's a northern Cal earthquake, I think of Gretchen, but she never mentions it. Is that because she's so used to them? But, it's not a pleasant thing to think about.

woodchuck in the neighbor's yard today

The water company emailed to say they would flush out the mains today between eight and four thirty. I got up early to wash the dishes and run laundry through the washer beforehand. I was home all day, and kept checking the water - it never happened. I never saw them up the street at the hydrant, and the water was fine all day (although I avoided using it, I still checked it). 

Jackson Galaxy put up a video the other day about the ingredients in canned cat food. Afterward I went and looked through the cupboard. He said carageenan is linked to cancer in cats, two ingredients with phosphate is a bad sign, or a phosphate too high on the ingredient list. Also, starches of course, like potato, pea, corn, etc.. I was surprised to see a few questionable cans in our stash. So, I threw out some of them, but the reality is, like us, cats may like the flavors of these undesirables. I mean, how much junk food have we liked in our lives? So, it's good to be aware, and then to find the balance between something more healthy and something kitty likes to eat. 

sunset tonight

The desert and the parched land will exult;
the steppe will rejoice and bloom.
They will bloom with abundant flowers,
and rejoice with joyful song.

- from Isaiah, chapter 35

spring things

 I hemmed my skirt today,

and ironed it after I took these pictures. The dark brown and turquoise speak to me of spring. This is about the only thing I have which goes with the skirt, and tomorrow is about the only day I can wear it, because then it gets warmer - too warm for sweaters! 

We had a lot of rain the other day, and a wind advisory yesterday. But today there was snow! I went outside.

The backyard forsythia looks pretty good. I like the wild branches coming out the top. I was glad I wore the wellies instead of my snow boots; there is water everywhere, around the footprints.

Slush.

The hydrangea in water.

There's a bit of water in the basement, too.

I started reading The Medieval Mind of C.S. Lewis. The author feels that Lewis' deep knowledge of the Middle Ages so informed his entire life and way of thinking, that a book needed to be written about it. So far, so good. I also have Esther de Waal's Seeking God: the Way of St. Benedict. Benedictine monks take a vow of stability, which binds them to the place, the monastery, but really, to those who live within it. 

"The man or woman who voluntarily limits himself or herself to one building and a few acres of ground for the rest of life is saying that contentment and fulfillment do not consist in constant change, that true happiness cannot necessarily be found anywhere other than in this place and this time."

"The good order and stability of the community is the means: the end is that the individual may have space and time to enter into his or her personal dialogue with God."

                                                   -  Esther de Waal

fancy quiche

 

There are these young women online here and there who like to dress in Little Women attire, and who share their old-fashioned crafts and recipes. It's very interesting. They seem to want to embrace a home-centered and healthy way of doing things, or maybe they want to escape modernity for a while. But I've seen quite a few.

Anyway, I made a quiche recipe today from one of these sites, and it was very good - more work than the usual quiche I make, since I tend to use already cooked things like leftovers in mine, but it's a holiday and I enjoyed making it. I had most of the ingredients, and substituted another cheese for the one in the recipe. The big thing is, I made a butter pie crust according to her recipe.

I learned to make pie crusts in junior high school, I believe. That would mean I was just pre-teen. My mother never was good at it. Of course, they taught me to make it with Crisco, and that's what I got used to and what I did for years, until it became known it was unhealthy stuff. Then I switched to an oil crust.
Since then, I've not been able to crimp the edges, or do anything to pretty it up because oil crusts are soft - at least, the recipe I use is. 

Today I decided to make the butter crust, and it was just as easy as I remembered: I floured the counter and just rolled the thing out! No rolling it between sheets of waxed paper, and then gingerly peeling it off, hoping it won't tear. 

before crimping

Anyway, I should just start making butter or lard crusts from now on, unless I don't plan ahead - I keep butter in the freezer. 

Basically, for this quiche I cooked up a package of bacon, and mixed it with some sauteed onion and garlic, with thyme and oregano, nutmeg and pepper. That went onto the rolled out crust. Then, the asparagus: a half pound, which had been boiled till crisp-tender. Half of this got chopped and dumped into the pie crust. Then, one cup of cheese. I didn't have blue cheese, so I used half goat crumbles and half shredded cheddar, with some dry mustard to make up the loss of tang which blue cheese has.  The cheese, in the pie. Whisk up seven eggs with three quarter cup of heavy cream, and a pinch of salt, and pour over all.  Bake at 375 for 50-55 mins., and then lay the rest of the asparagus on top of the quiche, which was sliced lengthwise and bake another forty minutes or so. Enjoy!

no white poodles

 "May the children come and have tea with me? I'd like Edith to get accustomed to me and the house. Sunday?" 

"Yes," said Joanna. "Thank you very much. I wish there was something we could do for you."

"I want a cottage tabby cat," said Mary. "And I want it rather quickly to prevent Mrs. Hepplewhite persuading me into a white poodle."

From The Scent of Water, by Elizabeth Goudge

Happy Easter!

St. Peter and St. John running to the empty tomb

 For the past few years I've been able to go to the Holy Thursday mass, the Good Friday service and the Easter Vigil on Holy Saturday, and they are so beautiful and such a fitting end to the struggles of Lent. 

Today was beautiful and sunny after a cloudy beginning, and gradually rose up into the fifties. We had a late breakfast around noon, since that was the only time we could, and then I got started on the dinner, while hoping we'd have enough appetite for it. For a long time, I've had lamb chops on Easter, since we like them and Jesus assuredly ate lamb on Passover. No ham! :D  Anyway, we've been having lamb more often lately and I thought it really didn't matter what we had, as long as it was a special dinner. I started collecting ideas on Pinterest but then thanks to Libby, I was perusing the British Country Living (I feel like I mention that magazine a lot here), and in the March issue was a recipe for a chicken dish with lots of tarragon, cream and some white wine. That caught my attention, and I decided to make it. 

There was a problem, though. It wanted you to spatchcock the chicken and I'd never done it. I didn't want to try. But I was afraid it would mess up the cooking time, and maybe delay the dinner, or even cause the sauce to dry up because I'd be cooking it longer. Then I thought of just getting a cut-up chicken - it should cook at a similar rate. Well, it was such a delicious recipe, that if you have that magazine, I urge you to try it, and especially if you want to impress someone with little effort, try it.

I was supposed to salt it well and leave on the counter for an hour, but I forgot that part until it was time to get going. And I skipped the salting because it was an Empire kosher chicken and I think they soak them in a salt brine first - we bought one many years ago and I didn't season it at all and it was very nice just plain. So, I skipped that part. Then, you lay the pieces on nine cloves of garlic and run the meat all over with plenty of olive oil, and roast at 465 F for half an hour, at which time it should be a little brown. Turn the heat down to 350 and take it out for a moment. Pour a glass of white wine all around the chicken and pour a mixture over it, consisting of 250 ml of heavy cream with a tablespoon of Dijon mustard, plenty of tarragon in it and some salt and pepper. Roast for forty minutes, or perhaps a little longer. (I don't like slimy chicken, and this was just past the slimy stage, but fine. Still, next time I'll leave it in longer.) Then let it rest with foil over for fifteen minutes. I can't tell you how delicious this tasted. I served it with some frozen green beans, but the very thin ones that are so lovely, with some sea salt, butter and herbs de Provence, and some small, multi-colored tomatoes with Trader Joe's Green Goddess dressing, and I sure want to see if anyone online has a recipe for making that dressing. There were some wheat crackers on the side.

I am sure it could also be made with coconut milk if you don't want dairy. 

While I was working, windows were open and I realized a mocking bird was singing nearby. He was in our neighbors hedge near the road, working very hard on his concert. I appreciated it. 

This idea was in the same magazine as the recipe, I think. 

Later, at sunset, Daisy came running into my room to look intently out the window. I wondered what she saw. It was a rabbit, just sitting there, grooming himself. I told her it was the Easter Bunny.

Christ yesterday and today,
the beginning and the end,
 all time belongs to him and all the ages.

My favorite resurrection painting, I think.

the best of Fridays

daffodil tribulations

 Right after the daffodils bloomed, it got quite cold, and I saw them one day with their heads just laying on the rocks in front of them. But now they've revived, spring is in the air again and Easter is around the corner.

a small mercy, and a great one

Annie had a checkup at the vet's today. She weighs eleven pounds and a little. We were both sure the doctor would prescribe a diet for our Annie, but he said her weight was fine! I still can't believe it. We feel badly that she is (seems?) a little heavy, but it's because Daisy just won't, or can't, eat all her food at the proper time. So, she cries relentlessly a bit later on, and if you get her some food, Annie hears you, of course, and there it all goes, downhill. You can't feed one without the other. But, I guess it's not as bad as we feared. Small mercies.

 One of the windows at church.

Now let us all with one accord,
In company with ages past,
Keep vigil with our heav'nly Lord
In his temptation and his fast.

nearing the end of Lent

 from The King's College, New York City

 "Sometimes we stop at the crosses that day by day you have in store for us. We moan and squirm like a goat caught in a bramble bush. We blame this or that, dreaming up a thousand reasons, and invent anything possible to free ourselves from the bare and harsh beams of the cross. 

But then there appears on the horizon a new and radiant dawn, and we gather the fragrant fruits you have brought to maturity in spite of our imperfect behavior. In the face of such miracles of your divine love, we understand the deepest meaning of suffering: It is the price that we had to pay.

Lord, I thank you for the existence of suffering. Had you not permitted it, we could not have followed you, nor would we know the deep joy of personal union with you.

If I close myself up in sorrow, I end up contemplating my own misery. But when I remember that on that night you too were overcome by fear, and when I pour my own drop of sorrow into your heart, then I realize that all this serves to open wide my heart to all of humanity and to shower the world with your graces."

                                                 -  Chiara Lubich, from Magnificat, March 2024

staying dry

 We had rain all day again; so much that I ordered the groceries for delivery. 

Puddles everywhere.

But we were cozy in the house, and I made broccoli soup. Which is so easy, so little effort, and while it's cooking, there's the onion, garlic and chicken broth aromas, which are very salutary when you've recovering from a headache. That, and tuna sandwiches were a perfectly fine supper.

I made the casing for the skirt today, and I've got to thread the elastic through it to see if I like the fullness. If it's too much, I'll have to re-do one of the side seams to make it narrower. Which is a relative term, since it's going to be as gathered as will look well. It's a very drapey and thin-ish rayon fabric, so it shouldn't be bulky even with a lot of gathers. We'll see how it looks.

I make small granola batches on the stovetop, which are very fast to do. The other day I was about to put away the rolled oats, when the container dropped and oats went all over the floor - I probably spilled two cups or more! Without a second thought, I scooped them off the floor and put them back in the box. Please don't imagine my floor is clean; I just could not bear to lose those oats, so I put the idea of any grossness right out of my mind instantly. But I also told myself that maybe I should make a batch every day for a while, basically to keep my eye on any unwanted somethings in the container, rather than be wondering if any crawlies are in the box. To use it up sooner than later seemed a good idea. So I made another batch today; it takes fifteen minutes or less from start to finish. And I didn't find anything unusual in the oats, so far. 

Well, Holy Week is upon us. There is a little piece in Magnificat today about Elizabeth Jennings, the poet. She struggled with mental illness, but her poetry and her faith kept her going.

Teach me how you love and have to die
 And I will try                                         
  Somehow to forget myself and give        
   Life and joy so dead things start to life   
    Let me show now an untrammeled joy     
     Gold without alloy.                                    

Something to remember for this week, I think.                           

cold and dry

 I was cooking one day, came into my room briefly, and realized I could hear a mockingbird not very far off. He was in our neighbor's apple tree! 

It's been cold the past few days - like we expect March to be - and my friend has been silent. Of course! He thought it was April, and it wasn't!

We got a new clothes dryer delivered today; I hope it will be half as good as the old one, which I hated to see go. But it was getting loud - the motor. We bought a very stripped-down model. No smart dryer for us, thanks. I have no problem telling it what to do. 

a pot full of vegetables

 It seems every year that I could never have a pot big enough to contain the corned beef, the potatoes, carrots and big cabbage wedges on St. Patrick's Day. I resent the potatoes, basically just a starch and taking up space better used by the vegetables, but what to do? 

Today I had the idea to cook the potatoes with their skins in another pot, and just mash them up, with lots of butter. Everybody would like that, and there'd be more room for the vegetables. This worked beautifully! I had cooked the meat yesterday, so I just increased the liquid and used that for the veg. I'll have to make a note of this.

We sang Be Thou My Vision at mass, and I felt very Irish singing this very obviously Irish melody.

Be thou my wisdom, and thou my true word;
I ever with thee and thou with me, Lord.

Amen

a winner

I had a package of six skinless, boneless chicken thighs, so I seasoned them well and baked them. We were going to have them like that with some veg, but I kept thinking of the cassoulet, knowing I could improve on the meal if I just had a little more time. My brother was game, so I went ahead with the recipe. There was still some pepperoni (and I'm convinced that sausage is very important to this dish), and it came out so good. I'm going to make this any time I have only enough meat for one meal, because this stretches it out to two.

a squeaky din

 A few weeks ago, we'd run into scores of blackbirds flying over the main road around eight a.m. I would bring my camera, but it didn't always happen.

This morning I heard the noise outside, and there they were out my window, in the neighbors' yards. I love hearing their squeaky conversations.

it must be spring

 Oh the day was absolutely dreamy!  Late morning as I was opening the east-facing windows, I realized the bird singing far in the distance was a mockingbird; they never sing in March. But they don't know months; they only know air temperatures. And possibly they also get Spring Fever. 

Speaking of spring fever, I was able to set up my little greenhouse.

I can put in the shelves another day, and the plastic cover when it cools off. An if we have a snowstorm - I'll take my chances.

There was a recipe in the March British Country Living for an Irish soda bread with some cheddar in it which caught my eye. I grated some whiskey-laced cheese from Trader Joe's that I bought just for this purpose, the St. Patrick's Day dinner on Sunday.

It also called for bacon, but the corned beef will be quite salty enough, so I decided on some raisins. A good decision!

How yummy it is. But when I make it again I'll have to figure out a better baking temperature. It was quite high, but the outside was getting burnt while the inside was still gummy; I turned it down a couple of times and had to guess. But it worked and now it's in the freezer. I'll cook the corned beef on Saturday, and cook the vegetables in the liquid on Sunday, as I won't have time to do the whole thing then. 

I have a better photo of my rayon skirt fabric -

I'm just going to cut two rectangles, but I have to figure out how much fullness I want in the gathered waist.

Another poem by Christina Rossetti:

SISTER MAUDE

Who told my mother of my shame,
Who told my father of my dear?
Oh who but Maude, my sister Maude,
Who lurked to spy and peer.

Cold he lies, as cold as stone,
With his clotted curls about his face:
The comeliest corpse in all the world
And worthy of a queen's embrace.

You might have spared his soul, sister,
Have spared my soul, your own soul too:
Though I had not been born at all,
He'd never have looked at you.*

My father may sleep in Paradise,
My mother at Heaven-gate:
But sister Maude shall get no sleep
Either early or late.

My father may wear a golden gown,
My mother a crown may win;
If my dear and I knocked at Heaven-gate
Perhaps they'd let us in:
But sister Maude, oh sister Maude,
Bide you with death and sin.

*I did get a charge out of that.

blooming

 The so-called Christmas cactus at the library.

 A woman actually asked me one day how I was caring for it. I had nothing to tell her. I water it a couple of times a week - it's in a good spot! I don't know.

"to use this day well"

 We were out much of the day - there was a wind advisory. Well, it's March, isn't it? Oh, the wind. But when the strong winds come after a load of rain, surely it must help to dry things out. And it must be blowing in the warm air that's coming tomorrow: fifty eight, it's supposed to be! 

Along the road we noticed how high the river was - we were going to the shore to visit cousins - and next door to their place, the neighbor had what looked like a lake in the back yard.

I guess they are that much lower than my cousin's, but we saw several properties with ponds in their yards; that's how much rain we've had around here. 

I knew we might be out for a while, so I mixed up some pastry dough yesterday, and this morning was able to bake a pie crust. This made it easy to whip up a quiche when we got home. One doesn't always feel like doing these things ahead, but it would have been another half hour if I'd left it for later.

The cats, meanwhile, had to forgo lunch and I wonder what they thought about that. I suppose they just waited till we came, maybe knowing it was a longer while than usual, and just accepting it. But cats live in the present, don't they? So I may be concerned for nothing.

"...Better to live one day at a time. This is a hard task, often, for we tend to keep going to the past and trying to live it over again or looking ahead and uselessly trying to forecast tomorrow and next week and next year. But somebody has said all the time we really have is the NOW. We have today.

To use this day well, that is about the sum of it."

                                              -  Gladys Taber

living in a wilderness

 "The world, for Saint John (1 Jn 2:15), is not creation as God made it. It is what the 'Prince of this world' and the sinners who follow him have made it. It is no longer the dwelling-place of the children of God and his sanctuary, but the wilderness left by his absence, where everything is organized with a view to sin.

We have to decide first of all between the prince of this world and Christ. Humanity has gone astray by following the promptings of pride and of pleasure-seeking egotism. The new Christian is first of all someone who wants to break with this error and to follow the Son of Man, who came not to be served but to serve and give his life."

                                                             -  Fr. Louis Bouyer, from Magnificat, March 2024

a day's work

 Well, I finished Howards End; I’m relieved. Of course, it is well written. Of course, it’s a good story. But I didn’t *like* it. This may be due to imperfections in my attitude or understanding, but there it is; I’m glad to finish it.

Robins have been around.

I've been thinking of a drapey, spring skirt; I bought a rayon print in a nice strong but muted turquoise with - for lack of a better term - animal print stripes. Which sounds weird, but the colors are brown, sort of a gold, off-white and dark red. I have a brown sweater, and probably other things I can wear with it and I think an elastic waist is the simplest course.

The color is washed out in this picture, but there's something about brown and turquoise, or robin's egg blue - it speaks to me of spring. And two yards cost me fourteen dollars from denverfabrics.com. I need to figure out how wide I want the casing to be, and what size rectangles for the front and back pieces.

We were supposed to go see the new film about Mother Cabrini with some folks from church, but I've got a slight intestinal thing. I thought I'd better stay home. Three of my co-workers have had terrible bugs run through their families in the last three weeks, and how do I know if I'm a carrier? Anyway, I washed the bathroom floor and cleaned the kitchen counters, which was satisfying, and I felt better for staying home. 

When I go to the basement to bring up something, I'm usually juggling the stuff or I use a plastic bag. But there was a sturdy basket hanging down there which I suddenly remembered. I cleaned it up, and now it serves as a very handy and far more pleasant way of carrying things up from my shopping trips downstairs.

So we, when this day's work is o'er,
And shades of night return once more,
Our path of trial safely trod,
Shall give the glory to our God.

fighting words

 Another day which turned out better and warmer than expected, or predicted. My thermometer read sixty eight!! We are going to be spoiled.

I was reading in the first chapter of St. Mark's gospel this morning. Verse 1:  "The beginning of the good news of Jesus Christ, the Son of God."
I have Bishop Barrons' Word on Fire gospels, with loads of commentary from the past two thousand years - a lot of it is his.  He said something about this verse which I never heard before: "The opening line of Mark's Gospel.....can sound anodyne and harmlessly pious to us, but in the first century, those were fighting words.

Mark's Greek term, euangelion, which we render as 'good news', was a word that was typically used to describe an imperial victory. When the emperor won a battle or quelled a rebellion, he sent evangelists ahead with the good news.

Do you see how subversive Mark's words were? He was writing from Rome, from the belly of the beast, from the heart of the empire whose leaders had killed his friends Peter and Paul just a few years before, and he was declaring that the true victory didn't have a thing to do with Caesar, but rather with someone whom Caesar had put to death and whom God raised up.

And just to rub it in, he refers to this resurrected Lord as 'Son of God.' Ever since the time of Augustus, 'Son of God' was a title claimed by the Roman emperor."

second Sunday of Lent

 Oh, what a day - bright sun and sixty degrees out! I opened windows while cooking. I wore my sandals all day.

A Prodigal Son

Does that lamp still burn in my Father's house,
Which he kindled the night I went away?
I turned once beneath the cedar boughs,
And marked it gleam with a golden ray;
Did he think to light me home some day?

Hungry here with the crunching swine,
Hungry harvest have I to reap;
In a dream I count my Father's kine,
I hear the tinkling bells of his sheep,
I watch his lambs that browse and leap.

There is plenty of bread at home,
His servants have bread enough and to spare;
The purple wine-fat froths with foam,
Oil and spices make sweet the air,
While I perish hungry and bare,

Rich and blessed those servants, rather
Than I who see not my Father's face!
I will arise and go to my Father: -
"Fallen from sonship, beggared of grace,
Grant me, Father, a servant's place."

-  Christina Rossetti

March planning

 There was a wind advisory from three pm, but it didn’t seem like much until an hour ago, with the rain battering my window; now it’s quieter. I wonder if my idea to set up the portable greenhouse on Saturday is too over-eagerness for what is often a wild month. I haven’t started any seeds but having it set up would be useful.

I used to be able to keep seedlings in the house, but I know somebody will find them and chew them (not Annie!), so I’d like to be able to put them right outside as soon as they sprout.

Thank God she sleeps sometimes.

cassoulet, at last!

 Oh, what a day. We are to have three days of temps in the fifties, but cloudy. Well, today wasn't; we had mostly sun! Windows open, birds singing. So hopeful and springlike!

I like to buy meat on sale, of course. But sometimes the manager's specials don't amount to much; I got a one-pound package of Angus stew beef for six dollars but there wasn't another. So, I browned it, thinking of what an insipid stew it would make. What other protein could I put in? And then I thought of cassoulet - something I never made but always wondered about. I did some research, then found a vegetarian version  I used that as a starting point. 

After browning the beef, I cut up a leek and a red onion. I put in a good handful of "baby" carrots and sliced two celery stalks in thick pieces. I sauteed this with half a teaspoon of salt and one quarter of pepper, for fifteen minutes. I then added three cans of cannellini (drained and rinsed), a bay leaf, some parsley, lots of thyme, a (smaller) can of diced tomatoes, quart of water with some soup base - some garlic, some chicken - and the meat. Also, since cassoulet usually has some sausage in it, I had a little bag of sliced pepperoni, so I put in lots after cutting the slices into half moons. This cooked for half an hour.

I suppose the deliciousness of it came from the pepperoni, but whatever - I used what I had and would have made do without it. I am really pleased at this idea, since I don't tend to think of the beans when I want more protein. I think of them as carbs and don't want to eat lots, but this recipe is a keeper and I'll add cannellini to the new shopping list.