Saturday, August 23, 2014

Cataract Surgery

Cataract surgery fast, painless and effective

3 days ago
TRIBUNE PHOTO/LARRY BECKNER
Nancy Mayernik, LPN, left, and Dr. David Boes, work to remove a cataracts from Polly Kolstad eye at the Orthopedic Center of Montana.

The signs were all there.
I was having difficulty viewing a computer screen, colors appeared dim and faded, and I faced unbearable glare while driving into the early morning sun — all resulting in frequent changes in my glasses prescription.
I had developed a cataract in my left eye, affecting the good vision I had enjoyed most of my life.
Cataracts develop when the lens behind the colored iris becomes obscured, brown or yellow. Light is scattered by the lens before it can focus on the retina, and as a result, vision becomes blurry and colors muted.
If untreated, cataracts eventually cause blindness. The good news is that corrective surgery is more advanced than ever before. The old clouded lens is replaced with an intraocular lens during the procedure, which is noninvasive, usually done without sedatives, relatively pain free and is performed in an outpatient facility.
I was scheduled to have the surgery done by Dr. David Boes, an ophthalmologist who has been practicing since 1994.
Boes operates in Great Falls and at eight facilities in towns throughout the area. He also takes time twice a year to travel with a team of technicians and nurses to Belize to do volunteer cataract surgery for a week.
Since his residency at the University of Washington in the early 1990s, Boes has seen dramatic changes in cataract surgery techniques. Originally, no intraocular lens implants were used, and patients had to rely on Coke bottle-thick hyperopic glasses.
Today, the lenses are manufactured in a variety of optical powers and are made from acrylic and silicone.
Taking the plunge
After a night of fasting, I reported to the surgery center on a recent Friday morning.
I checked in and was escorted to a presurgery area where I settled into a recliner. The nurse reclined my chair and carefully put drops in my left eye to prevent inflammation, bacterial infection and to numb the eye. She also placed an ink dot over that eye, identifying that it’s the one undergoing the procedure.
I was given booties, a hairnet and warm blankets and then waited with my eyes closed to be called for surgery.
Within 20 minutes, I was wheeled in my chair to the surgery room. My head was nudged into a stationary helmet, and a seat belt fastened across my arms and waist to keep me from moving throughout the surgery. I was totally covered with a white sheet and blanket with just a small opening for my eye.
Three bright lights were turned on and a large machine lowered from above.
Boes directed me to look up at the lights and put more numbing drops in my eye.
He had one foot on the controls of the aspirator — the machine that breaks up and vacuums the cataract particles — and the other foot on the microscope foot pedal.
Nurses and technicians assisted him.
“We take an entire team approach,” Boes said. “Every step matters.”
He made a tiny incision in the cornea and then inserted an instrument about the size of a pen tip.
A short time later, he told me we were one-third of the way done.
I was awake the whole time and had not felt a thing.
Soon I began to hear rhythmic piano-like sounds from the instrument Boes used to break the cataractous lens into little pieces with high-frequency sound waves. As the lens broke apart, the probe suctioned the pieces from the eye, and soon it was completely gone.
The sound continued for some time before Boes told me we were two-thirds of the way through.
I now know the doctor was inserting the new lens, which fits right into the groove where my original lens was. Two arms secure it in place.
Throughout the six- to 10-minute surgery, Boes continued to place numbing drops in my eye. I felt the wetness rolling down my face, but no pain.
Before I knew it, Boes had finished, and I was unhooded. My eye was taped shut and fitted with a patch that must remain there for two hours. I was wheeled back to the recovery room and offered beverages and a snack.
After I was given followup instructions and several eye drops to put in my eyes for up to one month, my daughter picked me up and drove me home.
Drastic improvement
After two hours, I took off the patch as directed. Amazingly, my vision already had improved greatly, although I saw halos over the lights in the bedroom. (Boes later explained that is because the eye is still dilated.)
I reported back to Boes that afternoon for a follow-up appointment. The exam showed that the surgery was successful, and he instructed me to wear a patch over the eye for four nights.
That evening I attended a concert. I was able to see the stage without glasses, but the red and blue spotlights had aureoles over them. I felt like I was at a circus with halos dancing above the lights.
The next morning, I could hardly wait to take the night patch off.
Seeing is believing.
The halos were gone, and I could almost read the newspaper without glasses.
Before another day passed, my eyesight continued to improve. Newsprint now was very much in focus, and at a later eye check, my left eye measured 20/20.
My sight has been improved beyond belief.
I am ready to view the world through new eyes.

Flathead Lake Cherries -Toby Phillips

When life gives you a box of cherries  (Flathead Cherries) – story from Polly
    I knew I would like Toby from the moment I first saw him.
    Stocky legs capped with sturdy boots came through my door lugging two boxes of fresh Flathead cherries.
     Toby Phillips had arrived to help us with our wheat harvest bringing with him the sweet harvest of  cherries.
     He had spent the previous day picking and culling forty pounds with his father in law, Hugh Hockaday, at the family orchard on Angel Point near Lakeside, Montana.
     Has anyone ever been disappointed with a gift of cherries?
     Flathead cherries come from northwest Montana and are grown in abundance around Flathead Lake.  Orchard growers in this area are famous for their quality fresh cherries.  This is the peak of the season.  Though the harvest is a little late, it is a good year for Flathead cherries.  Picking began around the first of August and will continue for another week to ten days.
     The Hockaday cherries are Chinooks; pollinizers that look like a Bing and come on a little early.
     “The cherries are of good size, a lot of them had very little element damage (bugs or rain),” said Hockaday, who has been running the operation for over fifty years.
     Other big sweet cherries that do well in the area are Bing, Lambert, and Queen Anne.  These cherries ripen after the Washington and Oregon cherries are off the market.
     With a little help, cherry trees live a long time.  It takes three to four years before they produce.  They peak at 12 years and may produce another 12 years.  But Mother Nature wasn’t too kind to the Flathead orchards that were devastated by the 1989 freeze when the temperature plummeted from 50 degrees to 40 below the next day.  The Hockadays lost about 500 trees.
     Over the years, they have recovered and are very “picky” about the care of their trees.  They cultivate them repeatedly over the summer to keep the weeds out and to allow all the moisture to go to the trees.   Any split, cracked, or bruised cherries go on the ground, left for the deer.
      Hockaday moved on the property with his dad in 1946 when his grand dad had a stroke.  Grand dad bought it in 1910.  There were some trees there then, and he planted a bunch for commercial sales.  Even then, cherries were big business.
       “Grand dad hired girls to pick in the morning and pack in the afternoon.  Then the cherries were loaded on ‘steamers’ (boats) and took to rail at Somers,” explained Hockaday.  
      Today, the Hockaday orchard is strictly a U-pick at a dollar a pound. Many people return year after year for the tree ripened fruit which, according to Hockaday, is a lot sweeter because they don’t irrigate and pump them full of water. 
          We have been eating cherries one by one off the stem.  My hands are beautifully stained from handling and pitting the plump red fruit.  I’m eager to not let one go to waste, so I have prepared many recipes.  Still, I have a windfall of Montana’s sweetest picking.
     “Just throw them in bags and freeze them,” suggests Phillips, “that’s what we do.”
    “Then, in the cool of winter take out a bowl of cherries and relish the delicious memory of summer.”
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   Where to get Flathead cherries:
     Flathead cherries are available at supermarkets and various farmers markets.  When you shop, look for shiny, firm, plump fruit with no marring on the skin or broken stems.  The darkest cherries are the most ripe.  They do not ripen after picking.  Wash before eating.  Store them in the refrigerator and they will keep for about a week.  If you choose to pick your own at a U-pick, pick them with the stems on.   They stay fresher that way. The Hockaday orchard provides ladders, and boxes.
How good are cherries for you:
     Sweet cherries are a good source of potassium (260 mg in every cup consumed).  Evidence shows that a diet rich in potassium may help to control blood pressure and reduce the risk for hypertension and stroke.    Cherries are packed with antioxidants including anthocyanins and melatonin.  Research indicates cherries my help maintain healthy joint functioning and support a healthy cardiovascular system.
     You can enjoy the nutritious benefits of cherries in several ways: one serving is equal to 1 cup fresh cherries; ½ cup dried cherries; 1 cup frozen cherries; or 1 cup cherry juice.  Calories in one cup of cherries:  84.
     Sweet cherries are simply delicious: put them on top of your cereal in the morning, add them to fruit salads, or layer them with granola and yogurt for a fresh parfait.
 Pitting cherries:
     These red round gems have to be pitted.  There are good cherry pitters on the market.  I have a hand held device that works like a spring loaded bobby pin.  It is called a “cherry chomper.”  Pizazz in downtown Great Falls carries three different cherry pitters, including the cherry chomper.
Recipes:
­Sweet Cherry Jam or Topping
4 cups pitted sweet cherries
2 ½ cups sugar
½ cup lemon juice
Put ingredients in a heavy bottomed pan and mash together lightly.  Cook, stirring while mixture boils, for five minutes.  Cook five more minutes until thick and syrupy.  Ladle into hot jelly jars.  Seal with paraffin wax.  Will fill two pints, or four small jelly jars.
Sweet Cherry Pie
Prepare pastry for 2-crust pie:  Measure 2 cups flour into large bowl, and with your hands, make a well in the center.  Pour in ¾ cup vegetable oil, and ¼ cup water.  Mix together.  Divide into two balls of dough.  Roll out one ball between waxed paper and fit into a pie plate. (9  inch).  Roll out second ball between waxed paper, and set aside.
Prepare pie filling:   
1 cup sugar
1/3 cup flour
1/8 teaspoon salt
1 Tblsp. Fresh lemon juice
4 cups pitted sweet cherries
2 Tblsp butter
Combine sugar, flour, and salt.  Add lemon juice to cherries and toss with sugar-flour mixture to mix thoroughly.  Turn into pastry lined pie pan.   Dot with butter. Add top crust and crimp edges so juice does not escape.  With a knife, make three slashes on the top.  Bake in hot oven (425 F) about 40 minutes.
Cherries Jubilee
4 cups pitted cherries
½ cup water
1 Tblsp. sugar mixed with 1 Tblsp cornstarch
¼ cup Kirsch (cherry liqueur
Vanilla ice cream
In a small dish, combine water with sugar and cornstarch.  In a skillet, heat cherries with cornstarch mixture over moderate heat, until thick and clear.  Add Kirsch just before serving.  Scoop vanilla ice cream into cocktail glasses or dessert dishes and spoon cherries down over ice cream.  Serves 6.


Sweet Cherry Blondies
1 -1/3 cups flour
1 -1/3 cups packed brown sugar
1 teaspoon baking powder
½ teaspoon salt
½ cup vegetable oil
2 eggs
1 teaspoon vanilla
1 cup pitted, halved cherries
½ cup chopped pecans
In a large bowl, combine flour, brown sugar, baking powder, salt, oil, eggs, and vanilla.  Mix on low speed of electric mixer until blended.  Spread ½ batter on buttered and floured 9 inch baking pan.  Toss cherries with small amount of flour.  Scatter cherries over batter.  Spread remaining batter over cherries.  Sprinkle pecans on top.  Bake @ 325 degrees for 30 – 35 minutes until wooden pick inserted near center comes out clean.   Cool and cut into 16 squares.
Cherry  Coca-Cola Salad
2 cups pitted sweet cherries
1 can (l lb. 4 oz) crushed pineapple
1 pkg. cherry (6 oz) gelatin
1 -12 oz can Coca Cola

Drain juice from pineapple, add enough water to make 2 cups.  Heat to boiling.  Stir in gelatin until dissolved.  Pour into large bowl.  Add cola.  Stir.  Add cherries and put into 1 – ½ quart mold.  Chill until set.         

Wilmington, NC

Travel story from Polly: Wilmington, North Carolina
     A wedding can take you to places you’ve never been.
     Let the romantic occasion become a journey, and you are immersed into fun and adventure in a far off place that perhaps you have only occasionally heard of.
     Recently, my husband and I packed in a multitude of culture while attending a much celebrated marriage in the southeastern part of North Carolina.  
     After flying across the United States, we found ourselves in Wilmington, a city nestled between the Cape Fear River and the Atlantic Coast.
     Although it does not actually border the ocean, the eastern portion of the municipality overlooks the Sound, the Intercoastal Waterway, and barrier islands that lie between.
     Long ago, sailors described the river as the “Cape of Fear” named for the high winds that raised havoc with the ships.
     The old part of the port city rises from the riverwalk where voices of the past whisper from the remains of shipyards, the Cotton Exchange, the city market, and restaurants and shops housed in refurbished wharf buildings. Friendly guides relive the Revolutionary and Civil War history from horse drawn carriages, trolleys, and even push-off segways.
     Before the Civil War, Wilmington was an active seaport shipping great quantities of naval stores (tar, pitch, and turpentine), wood products, and rice to Charleston, Baltimore, New York, and the West Indies.  The war dramatically changed Wilmington as it became the Confederacy’s main blockade running seaport.  As the Union took over the area, Wilmington was different, but they never gave up.  Eventually, the southern families that owned property were able to move back and restore their fine homes, churches, and mansions that encompass an area of more than one hundred blocks.
     Having survived the hostilities between the North and the South, Wilmington showcases the largest National Register of Historic Places in North Carolina, in fact, one of the largest in the U.S.  
     Today, visitors walk and tour the old district tripping along charming brick lined streets that the locals refuse to give up.
     “It’s a bumpy ride,” said our trolley guide, Wes, explaining the ongoing controversy that prevails to asphalt over the well worn red pavers.
     He claimed that a solid army of residents comes out at night with picks and shovels to attack any hot mix truck that may invade the lovely magnolia lined streets.
     Stories unfold as the historic plaques proudly grace grand porches and holy steeples, structures that are maintained as they were in the antebellum days.  The city is proud to have a historical committee that is diligent about keeping up the street side and iron gated properties.
      Built in 1848, our Bed and Breakfast, the Rosehill Inn, has been lovingly restored by innkeepers, Tricia, Bob, and Sean Milton. The two story white Georgian style house, was once the home of Henry Bacon, who in the 1880s, served as the government engineer in charge of the Cape Fear River improvements.  He was the father of Henry Bacon II, who later became the architect who designed the Lincoln Memorial in Washington, D.C.  Not only have the Miltons preserved this historic inn, they meet and greet you at the airport.  And in the eleventh hour, Bob takes the side streets to whet your taste of the landscape that will awaken you in the morning.  Now that’s southern hospitality!
     Only a heavy sleeper could snooze through the melodic carillon that is regularly rung from the First Presbyterian Church down the street. The church, with its finials and soaring stone spire, topped with a metal rooster, can be seen from any vantage.  It is said that the Reverend Joseph R. Wilson, pastor from 1874 until 1885, would not have been proud of son, Tommy’s, sling shot antics that shattered neighbors windows. However, he would acknowledge that Thomas Woodrow Wilson grew up to be the 28th President of the United States.    
     A few blocks away, the house where Anna McNeil Whistler was born still stands.  James McNeill Whistler’s mother; yes, the lady in the painting, was proud to have been from Wilmington.
     Of particular note along Market Street, is the pre-Civil War Bellamy mansion.  Built in the scale seldom rivaled in the States, for the family of physician Dr. John Bellamy, the house was seized and used as the Union military headquarters at the end of the war.  In September 1865, the U.S. government pardoned Dr. Bellamy for his allegiance to the Confederacy and allowed him to return with his family to the mansion.  Finding their home in a horrible state, the Bellamys were never the same. Much political grief ensued even into the 1930s and the tale is still told how the last surviving daughter refused President Taft entry when he knocked to just have a look at the grand home.  Restored to its palatial style, the mansion is today a museum that is open to the public.
     If you are looking for big shoes in sports, you’ll find them here.  Wilmington just happens to be where Michael Jordan grew up.  He played basketball for Laney High School, though, ironically, he was cut from the varsity shooters as a sophomore.  He never gave up, and eventually made the team, leading them on to the state championship.  Today, the high school gym is named after Jordan.
     The Riverwalk, the heart and soul of the downtown Wilmington wharf, is an adventure on any given day.
     As we strolled along, we came upon Darrell Chambers, a Scotsman, polishing and cleaning the engraved silver on his bag pipe.  A member of a well known pipe band, Chambers showed us the intricate parts of his tartan instrument.  And then, without prompting, he stood and played lovely tunes to honor his countrymen.  We lingered for some time as he played on, pausing briefly to boast that “there are more Scots here in Wilmington, than in Scotland.”   
     Walking along the Cape Fear River, you can’t avoid the fog horn of the Capt. J.N. Maffitt, a tour boat.  Originally constructed as a “liberty launch” for the U.S. Navy, the boat was used to convey sailors from ship to shore, on “liberty.”  Soon, the lapping waves along the pier signaled the arrival of the 600 passenger riverboat, Henrietta III, as it docked at the completion of an afternoon cruise.  Across the river, the heroic  battleship North Carolina rested in calm waters, making World War II history come alive with its’ narrated tours.  A well known sideshow to the battleship is “Charley,” an aging 

Dophin Habitat - Mirage Hotel, Las Vegas, NV

Travel Story from Polly:  Dolphin Habitat at the Mirage Hotel in Las Vegas
     Just off the neon boulevard of Nevada’s  Las Vegas “strip,” amongst the cacophony of casinos, is a unique animal habitat that houses Atlantic bottlenose dolphins.
     Sgt. Pepper, Lightning, Duchess, Maverick, Huff N Puff, and Sage sound like characters from Beatles songs.
    In fact, they are a family of Atlantic bottlenose dolphins enjoying the four connected pools, an artificial coral reef system and sandy bottom that replicates the dolphins natural environment.
    Some years ago, Steven Wynn, the owner of the hotel, wanted to bring these intelligent marine mammals to a research site that would benefit the community and educate children in Clark County, Nevada.
     Thusly, in 1989, a facility, the Siegfried and Roy Secret Garden and Dolphin Habitat, was built, and  staffed  with dolphin care specialists.  From above and below vast pools, the world is invited to come learn and observe the lifestyle and often, sense of humor, exhibited in this group of hairless, finned cetaceans.
     Referring to their enriched lives and how endeared the dolphins are, Mimi Tilton, Public Relations Manager MGM/Mirage, added that “we love them as they love us.”
     “We are very involved in their health here, and in the research process of the species, especially relating to their reproductive system, hearing, and aging,” said Jim Hudson, curator of animal care.
     Hudson has a longtime interest in animals.  Beginning with elephants and camels, he has been involved in animal training around the world since 1979.  Here in Las Vegas, he has been at the habitat for eight years overseeing the dolphins specialized care.
     The Las Vegas facility, a member of the Alliance of Marine Mammal Parks and Aquariums, piggy- backs their research with Texas A&M, Ohio State University, and Oklahoma State University.
     Dolphins are social animals.  They enjoy communicating and interacting with one another.  They have a special system of seeing and hearing called “echolocation,” the ability to locate objects by emitted sound waves and interpret the resulting echo.  This system of sonar allows a dolphin to “see” without using its eyes.  They use echolocation to navigate and to find food. 
     Dolphins also have a highly developed sense of touch.  They can hold their breath up to seven minutes, but will typically breathe two to three times per minute.
     Researchers have found that they learn sign language quickly and easily.
     In the United States, Atlantic bottle nose dolphins can be found along the East Coast from Cape Cod to the Gulf of Mexico.   Adult bottlenose dolphins weigh up to 650 pounds and their actual size varies from 6 – 12 feet.  Males are slightly larger than females.  Living in a protected facility, these mammals will live longer than their counterparts in the wild. Within the Habitat, on average, a one-year-old bottlenose dolphin is expected to live for more than 25 years.  
     With ten trainers and one intern from UNLV, it’s clear that they are devoted to their animals. They may have favorites, “but they are not pets,” emphasized Hudson, adding the fact that dolphins don’t do tricks.  Their jumps, spins, flips and tail walks are part of their natural behaviors.  It is how they play, exercise, and communicate.
     The dolphin pod living at the habitat include: Duchess, a 30 year-old female,  the mother of,  Huff N Puff, a 7 year old female; Maverick, a 5 year old male, and Sgt. Pepper, a male, born 10 months ago.  The other dolphins are: Lightning, a 25 year old male, and Sage, a 10 year-old female.   
     In addition to the daily dolphin viewing, and educational programs for students from kindergarten to university age, the habitat offers a Trainer for a Day program whereby four participants stand side by side with the trainers and feed, train, and signal behaviors with the dolphins.  The various people the dolphins are exposed to through this program stimulates their brains and gives them variation in their environment.    
      I was fortunate to shadow Hudson, poolside, and interact with Duchess, accompanied by her baby, Sgt. Pepper, who tried to get into the act.
       Swimming up to me, with a seemingly ever- present smile, Duchess was eager to respond to hand movements.  With a signal, she opened her mouth and talked, revealing over 100 identical cone-shaped teeth in her cavernous mouth.  She swam away and flipped vertically into the air when I gave her the “candle” sign. With a flick of the hand, she would pose poolside raising her “fluke” (tail) high into the air.  Time after time, she returned wanting to play and interact with me.  After each maneuver, she skidded up pausing to be stroked on the top of her head; even asking for a “kiss.”  She felt like a wet hot dog or rubber.
     But, even at that, after all that fun, that didn’t stop me from giving her one big smooch right on her bottlenose snout!
If you go:
Siegfried & Roy’s Secret Garden and Dolphin Habitat
Open Daily
     11:00 am – 5:30 pm weekdays
     10:00 am - 5:30 pm weekends
Admission
     Adults - $15.00
     Children  4-12  - $10.00
       Children  3 and under, free with adult
The Mirage Hotel
Las Vegas, Nevada
More information, call: 702-791-7188.
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Terrace Restaurant - Swan Lake, MT

The Terrace
     You may know him as a Billings auto dealer, car collector, guitar player, surf boarder and water skier, but from Memorial Day to Labor Day, Sam Campbell and his wife, Therese, gather their nine children and head to the summer business, The Terrace Supper Club, on Swan Lake.
     While many would agree that some of the best eating is in family run restaurants where consistency is the key, the Campbell’s have been able to channel fine cuisine for more than a decade along Highway 83 between Bigfork and Swan Lake. 
     Along with their children (most of whom have grown up working in the restaurant), the Campbell’s have been operating The Terrace for thirteen years.  Sam and Therese bought the restaurant which had been closed for three years in 2000.  They reopened in May 2001 with their “American” menu as Sam describes, “from east coast to west coast.”
     It’s the evening meal that matters to Sam who established this supper club harkening back to the fifties and the sixties.
     “If you want a steak, ribs, shrimp, lobster, we have it,” says Sam, who originally grew up in Great Falls but spent many summers on Swan Lake in the 1960s where his folks had a place.
     Early on, working in restaurants interrupted Sam’s lingering lake activities.
    “I started out at McDonalds when I was fourteen; I bought a car from my dad and wrangled fries and have been off and on and in since then,” he says.
     In the 1980s, Sam was affiliated with three different Bonanza Steak Houses.  For some time, he owned T-Birds Rock n’ Roll Bar and Therese worked at the Fifth Quarter Restaurant in Billings.  For the last seven years, she has run the restaurant at The Terrace.
     “Running a restaurant/bar is fun but a lot of work,” admits Therese, whose combined food experiences have contributed to the family’s attributes.  Their children have been the waiters, waitresses, cooks and chefs.  Currently, son, Tucker, leads the helm in the kitchen.
      They serve drinks and food you will find yourself telling your friends about.
       First, there is the bar, dubbed The Moon Doggie Lounge, decorated in memorabilia featuring Sam’s collection of surf boards, water skis, and vintage guitars.   While waiting for a table from the cabaret chairs, you can enjoy the décor and order a cocktail, a local beer, or a glass of wine. You may select wine by the glass or by the bottle. 
     In the wine closet Sam has reasonable bottles for fifteen dollars and up to one hundred dollars for labels like Camus.  
     Undoubtedly, there is an immediate sense of excitement and occasion about the place as the deck is usually buzzing with crowded umbrella tables overlooking the beautiful Emerald Bay.
     “Everybody fights for the deck, it’s so nice we are on the bay,” notes Therese.
      Yet, to be in the light filled dining room speaks pure pleasure and a bit more private.
     Then, there is the food.
     The Terrace treats cuisine with original enthusiasm.
     Their best dishes are simple in composition with a Campbell twist.   
      The menu opens with an array of appetizers which include peel and eat shrimp served with their signature zesty cocktail sauce.  Sweet onion rings (Walla Walla or Vidalia) are sliced, lightly battered and fried, as are tender calamari strips.  Morel mushrooms, bought from local pickers, then sautéed in butter, wine and herbs are a gourmand’s delicacy.  You may want to order more than one plate to stave off any squabbles over the last bites.
     Almost everything that follows reaches the same height of casual perfection. 
     The salmon is lightly dusted with tempura batter for the fish n’ chips.  Their 18 ounce Delmonico Rib Eye hand cut prime steak is, according to Sam: “bigger and better than Emeril’s.” You won’t find a hamburger on the menu, but a steakburger, ground sirloin grilled to your perfection.  They have a special way of preparing Alaska King Crab legs, a gastronomic treasure!  French fries are fresh and hand cut to order.  Loaves of hot baked bread are brought to the table.
     Children have their own calling: Dinners for Beginners.  One offering the kids won’t forget is the spaghetti in marinara sauce with a giant meatball on top.
     For dessert, end dinner with a Montana touch: The Terrace Huckleberry sauce drizzled over New York Cheesecake, or, Montana huckleberry ice cream.
     Throughout the menu, there are plenty of special sauces: madatcha, (on the Montana hot, wild wings) marinara, peppercorn, Béarnaise, and zesty cocktail, which speak to the seriousness of the kitchen.  All recipes are their own:  secrets that they don’t reveal.
     Four times a summer The Terrace has karaoke and throughout the season you may catch a live band playing.  Check it out:  Sam is a musician, sings and plays the guitar, and often sits in with the band.
     The mix of the view and the comfy, the nostalgia and the whimsical makes the The Terrace a good place to stop. The restaurant is just eight miles from Bigfork (Mile Marker 79) on Highway 83, and six miles from Swan Lake.  Or, come by boat on Swan Lake and turn into beautiful Emerald Bay.
     The Terrace is open: Memorial Day – Labor Day, Wednesday, through Sunday: from 5 pm on.
     As locals and tourists head to the pure mountains and lakes of Montana, the Campbell’s at The Terrace Supper Club seek to please.
     “We serve a little later when light is on the lake in the summer,” says Therese.

     Reservations appreciated, but all welcome.
     Phone: 406-837-5141
     Website: Theterracesupperclub.com

     

Saguaro Cactus

Saguaro Cactus – Travel Story from Polly
     As a southwestern visitor for a couple of weeks every year, I had always wondered about the Saguaro cactus that signals a strange welcome into the vast Sonoran Desert.
      Like stoic sentinels guarding that zone, the giant Saguaro marches up mountains, harbors highway roadsides, appears in the urban landscape, and even lives hazardously along golf courses.
     There are no two alike inhabiting only the Sonoran Desert, an area that includes parts of Arizona, California, and Mexico.
     Many are just green spiny pleated trunks rising out of the shadows of a paloverde tree or a bursage bush. Yet others, who have the good genes of geriatric survival, have arms that reach up to the sky, and may be thirty feet tall.  There’s no blooming until they are about 50 years old, and the mature giant finally gets an appendage around its 75th birthday. But then, the strange and unusual tree may tower in the desert until it is 200 years old, and sport multiple branches.
     It is not permissible to take the Saguaro from the desert.  Only certain people may obtain a permit to get the giant cactus. If caught stealing one, a hefty fine is imposed.
     Fascinated by this multigenerational plant, I ventured out to the Desert Botanical Garden in Phoenix, Arizona where the silhouetted Saguaro grows prolifically.
    With a basket in hand full of Saguaro “artifacts,” Nancy White, the Assistant Director of Education at the Desert Botanical Garden, walked and talked about the Saguaro which fits into the ecological landscape of the characteristic desert.  It gets less than 10 inches of rain per year, has a high evaporation rate, and can survive extreme temperature fluctuations. 
     Nature has finely engineered the Saguaro, which can weigh several tons, for the Sonoran Desert. 
     “Think of a Hummer vehicle loaded with the family and the dog,” explained White.
     The columnar structure of the pleated accordion-like surface allows the Saguaro to expand or contract depending on the amount of water it is storing at any time.  The Saguaro holds so much water, that it can go for many months without new water from a rain.
     The Saguaro is able to withstand storms and winds that blow across the desert by a system of lateral roots that run just below the surface of the ground for about the same distance as the height of the saguaro.  As soon as it rains, these roots, and other hair like roots suck up as much moisture as they can. Often, these roots can intertwine around rocks and give the saguaro a phenomenal structural strength.
     As we stood under a three sided wooden structure, White pointed out the lateral poles. The center structure of the saguaro is supported by an interior skeletal system, a series of wooden rods that form a circle.  These round wooden sticks give the Saguaro great structural strength. They have been used by native people as one of their strongest building materials.  The Saguaro ribs are the side poles in this wooden structure.       
         
     In late May, the Saguaro sprouts creamy white blossoms with yellow centers from the top of the plant, and clustered near the ends of the branches. The blossoms open during cooler desert nights and close again by next midday.  Not all of the flowers in a single Saguaro bloom at the same time.  Instead over a period of a month or more, only a few open each night, secreting nectar into their tubes, and awaiting pollination.  These flowers close about noon the following day, never to open again.  If fertilization has occurred, fruit will begin to form immediately.
     Bats and some moths feed on the nectar, thus pollinating the plant to produce a pink fruit about the size of a kiwi that has bright scarlet pulp with tiny black seeds. The fruit ripens just before the fall rainy season.  It is said to be one of the tastiest foods of the desert.  However, it is hard to pick the fruit before the birds and other insects get them.
    The native people harvest the fruit with a long tool made from the dead skeletal wood of the Saguaro.  They make preserves and syrups from the delicacy. 
     Fruit that is left on the tree drop their seeds. They germinate and start growing under a nurse plant.  In about ten years, the new saguaro will be about the size of your thumb.  Eventually, the nurse plant may die as the Saguaro takes the water from it.  To survive in most cases the saguaro seed needs the shade and protection of a nurse plant, such as a paloverde or bursage.
     The typical mature saguaro is a happy hotel for the birds that inhabit the Sonoran Desert.  The Gila Woodpecker drills holes in the saguaros.  That’s just fine with the Saguaro as it forms a “scab” that internally becomes a compartment, a nesting house for the bird.
     The nests maintain a comfortable temperature even during the warmest summer days due to the protection from the sun and the natural air conditioning provided by the saguaro.   Many kinds of birds have been observed living in the nests of the Saguaro including the woodpecker, cactus wren, elf owl, screech owl, sparrow hawk, and white winged doves.
     From her basket, White pulled out an odd looking dried up boot from a dead Saguaro.  Sometime ago, it was the inside home to many birds.  She also had the sturdy cross section of the Saguaro core, and dried pieces of the fruit.  Through her “show and tell” and her informative tour, my many wonders of the cactus giant were answered. 
     There’s much more to the amazing world of the Saguaro Cactus.    
      In fact, you might think that the new cell towers sprouting up in Phoenician neighborhoods, sporting an organic look, are real Saguaro cactus!
      
     

Ewald Vineyard

Russian River Vineyard –Travel story from Polly Kolstad
          The Russian River Valley, approximately fifty miles north of San Francisco is well known for its viti culture.  Located in Sonoma County, it is one of California’s distinguished wine producing regions.
          Along one of the unabashedly beautiful roads in the area near Sebastopol, is the sculptured iron gate to the Ewald Vineyard. Unique, in that it is owned by Sally (the former Sally Hatcher of Great Falls), and her husband David Ewald, it is also known for the 4,321 pinot noir vines, and the solar power that supplies the energy for their operation.
      My daughter and I were fortunate to be house guests of the Ewalds this spring just as the grapevines were about to bud, and leaf out.
     The Ewalds hospitality features their very fine wines, as well as, an ongoing education about their second career paths: making wine.  They are no strangers to business and viticulture.
      In fact, there’s an upbeat breeze in the conversation as Sally pulls on her red Wellingtons, and David checks their weather station before guiding us through their boutique vineyard. 
     With a Master’s degree from Stanford University, Sally has had a long career in business.  Early on, she took a job with Western Airlines in San Jose and rose to be the city manager of the company. Then, she went into consulting for Wilson Learning Corporation. Eventually, she left and started her own  company, Learning Solutions Alliance Global, where she continues as  chairman of the board.
     David, an aeronautical engineer, was a spy satellite test controller in the late 60s, and early 70s. After working in that field seven days a week for years, David switched gears and went into residential and commercial real estate in the Palo Alto area.
     Even then, with busy careers, they both found time to practice winemaking; the house they had purchased in Los Altos came with fifty grape vines.
     Initially, we made batches like “Old Lead Pencil,” and “Chateau Garage,” said Sally with a grin. 
     When they moved to their Sebastopol vineyard in 2002, the already established vines had a good reputation, and the Ewalds looked for a vineyard manager, who would oversee the growing, harvesting and marketing of their grapes.  Even at that, David is a perfectionist notes Sally, “he’s out here (in the vineyard) all the time.”
     Grapes grown in this area are well known because of the terroir (climate, sun exposure, soil make-up and surrounding flora ) and the grape growing strategy. The Russian River Valley’s cool climate affords success with certain varietals, notably Pinot Noir and Chardonnay.

     As we headed down the landscaped path of rosemary, lavender, and decorative grasses, our gaze was pleasantly caught up in the symmetry of grape vines with arms stretched out in perfect form supported by horizontal wires.  We walked between the rows as David pointed out how the vines are pruned late to discourage early budding.  Each arm is limited to twelve spurs which will form buds.  The buds become trained vertical vines that yield good production of the grapes.  He notes that grape vines can live up to 100 years, but production drops off after about thirty years.
   In the spring, David is particularly concerned with frost danger. In the master bedroom of their home overlooking the vineyard, there is a weather station.  Micromisters record the temperature in every row of the vines broadcasting a reading.
     “It is set at 37 degrees and tells me if I have to turn the water on,” explains David whose nightly activity may involve hauling out of bed to get the various sprinkler systems going in the vineyard that will encase the vines to protect them from frost damage.
     “I want water flowing at 36 degrees; I recheck the forecast to know the dew point; if it is above freezing you are less likely to get caught with frost.  April and May are great concern when the plant is leafing out and buds are beginning to form.
     David’s ingenious layout is powered by fifty solar panels that he has placed on the roof of his barn.  The solar panels provide energy plus for the Ewalds.  David has more than enough power for his vineyard, house, and other projects.  What he doesn’t use, he sells back to the electric company’s grid. 
     As summer progresses, the Ewalds and Jim Pratt, their vineyard manager, keep a close watch over their three-and-a-half acres of premium vines.  They want the autumn harvest to produce the best grapes for Siduri Wines, their contract winemaker.  They feel fortunate to have found a small winery that produces wine in limited quantities for vineyard (single vineyard grapes) designated wines.
      Adam Lee, co-owner Siduri, named for the Babylonian goddess of wine, and wife Dianna, have been producing premium wines since 1994.  As the grapes ripen, they come out to the Ewald vineyard to taste, pick, and then, haul the crop to the Siduri winery located in a Santa Rosa industrial park.  Lee, has been called “a powerhouse pinot noir producer” and the Siduri Pinots regularly make the San Francisco Chronicle top 100 wines list.  Their wines reflect the unique vineyards in which the grapes are grown.
     With that knowledge, we were eager to take in some wine tasting at the Siduri winery, a short drive, about twenty minutes away. Many of the over 150 wineries in and around the Russian River Valley are small operations and offer complimentary tastings. We found this to be true, as we toured the winery and enjoyed free tasting of six to eight wines including Pinot Noir, Chardonnay, Syrah, Viognier, and Zinfandel.  (Siduri wines may be special ordered through Pizazz in Great Falls.)
     We had to conclude that the Siduri Ewald Vineyard Russian River Pinot Noir was the best: a classic wine to be remembered along with the excellent experience of being with Sally and David.
      Cheers!
    

Plum Pudding - Nancy and Chris Wulf

Plum Pudding story from Polly
     There are many traditions surrounding the Christmas season but none so endearing as getting together and preparing a family recipe.
     For Chris Wulf and daughter, Nancy Pannell, the waft of “nana’s plum pudding” invades the kitchen early on.  It is a holiday staple, and has been for generations.
     “My mother helped grandma, I helped mother, now I help Nancy, said Chris.
     The reason they love the puddings is in the fun of doing it together.
     “It’s the partnership,” allows Chris.  “We’ve done it for forty years and never missed a year.”
     With a dash of this, and a pinch of that, the recipe came with Chris’ maternal family as they moved from England and settled in Salt Lake City.
     In England, plum pudding was an important part of the Christmas celebration with a rich history with many traditions that surround it.  The traditional English delicacy was introduced in the nineteenth century and first recorded in 1858  by A. Trollope’s “Doctore Thorne.”  It contained dried fruit and spices, (mostly dried plums, or prunes which have been replaced by raisins, but the term “plum has lingered on), nuts, and raw beef or mutton fat (suet). It was made five weeks before Christmas on “Stir up Sunday” when each member of the family stirred the pudding and made a wish.  Traditionally, small silver charms were baked in the plum puddings signifying good luck, safe harbor, wealth, etc.  Today, these tiny charms may still be bought and baked in the steamed pudding. Covered with a wonderfully rich sauce and triumphantly served decorated with a sprig of holly, doused in brandy, and set aflame, the plum pudding is ceremoniously brought to the table where it is met with a rousing round of applause.
     Most Americans are familiar with the plum pudding traditions as told in many carols and Christmas stories.
    From Charles Dickens’ “Christmas Carol,” Mrs. Cratchit  brought the pudding to the table, “blazing in half of half a quartem of brandy, and bedight with Christmas holly stuck on top.” 
     It is known that families proudly hold their recipes which cannot be surpassed by any other. So much so that when it comes to plum pudding preparation, there are no substitutes.
      Nana lived with Chris’ family and when it came to ordering pudding ingredients, she was a “feisty little thing” according to Chris.  She would tell the grocer what she wanted, amen.
     “That meant that the suet was not to come from anywhere but the beef kidneys,” said Chris.
     In recent times, it has become difficult to acquire suet, so Chris and Nancy have adapted the recipe to include butter which is mixed in with the breadcrumbs.  They also add radiant fruit, dates, pecans, candied cherries, and a bit of brandy, all of which is meticulously hand stirred.  Once the mixture is deemed ready, it is carefully ladled into tin cans (well greased), covered with foil and securely tied with string before being submerged into a long, hot steam bath.   Nancy notes that the pudding also may be made in a mold and put in a water bath in the oven.
     Just the way the colorful, spicy, batter smells is something special.  And, after several hours of heated anticipation, the resultant piece de resistance is savored by many.   
     With every year, mother and daughter, meet in Nancy’s kitchen for another joyous session of making plum pudding, thusly fulfilling Santa’s list of a present from the past.  Carried on in familial fashion, Nana’s plum pudding has been happily received by generations.
     A feeling of sketches from life flavors the busy afternoon as Chris recalls the family and friends who have come and gone taking with them the memory of plum pudding. 
    With a twinge of sadness, she solemnly sighs, “we’ve lost a lot of pudding eaters over the years.”
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  Recipe: Nana’s Plum Pudding   (recipe makes about 10 soup cans of pudding)
   Mix and set aside:
1 cup dark molasses (if very thick, soften for a few seconds in the microwave)
½ teaspoon baking soda 
Set aside until fluffy and light colored.
Dry ingredients: Measure into a large bowl.
2 cups bread crumbs processed in Cuisinart with ¾ cup cold butter
2 cups golden raisins
1 ½ cups chopped dates
1 ½ cups candied fruit
8 oz. candied red cherries
8 oz. candied green cherries
1 cup broken pecans or walnuts
Toss all together with ½ cup flour.
Measure and mix together:
1 ½ cups flour
1 cup sugar
1 teaspoon nutmeg
1 teaspoon cinnamon
1 teaspoon baking powder
Add to dry ingredients, mixing well by hand.
Measure   ¼ - ½ cup brandy, rum, or whiskey, and along with molasses mixture, pour into dry ingredients..  Mix well.  Set aside.
In small bowl, beat together until frothy: ¾ cup whole milk, 2 eggs, 1 teas. vanilla.
Add to ingredients in large bowl.  Mix well, by hand.  The dough should be the consistency of muffin dough.   If necessary, add more flour.
Ladle mixture into well greased aluminum cans.  Fill cans 2/3 – ¾ full. (leaving room for pudding to puff up when steamed)
Top cans with heavy duty foil tied with double string so the cans are air tight.  (Trim foil evenly so as not to touch water bath.)
Steam in oven in water bath or use an electric roaster.  Water should be 1/3 – ½ way up on the can.
To steam: Set temperature at 350 and steam for 3 hours.  Lower temperature to 250 and steam for 1 ½ hours.  Add more water if necessary during steaming time to avoid scorching the bottoms of the puddings.  Remove.  Cool. Store in refrigerator or freeze. ( Will keep up to one year.)
To serve:  Steam pudding in a covered saucepan in about 1 inch of water for 45 minutes.  Remove foil from can.  Run sharp knife around the edges of the can and carefully unmold pudding onto plate.  Slice and top with sauce.
Whipped Cream Sauce (serves 8)
Whip 1 cup cream almost to butter; Fold carefully, one at a time to keep cream as stiff as possible: 1 beaten egg; 1 tablespoon melted butter; powdered sugar to taste; ½ teaspoon vanilla.  Refrigerate until serving time. 
Brandy or Rum Sauce
½ cup butter
1 cup brown sugar
½ cup water
½ teas. lemon juice
1 teas. vanilla
¼ cup brandy or rum.
Mix all in saucepan.  Stir over medium heat, boil, and cook stirring until desired thickness.  Serve hot.

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Pam Hansen and her Smart Car

Pam Hansen Alfred’s Smart Car story from Polly
     - Sitting in her Great Falls office, Pam Hansen Alfred is far from Germany where she saw her first “Smart Car” in 2004.
     “It only took up half a parking place” describes Alfred of the small common vehicles which easily maneuvered through hectic traffic.  After all, narrow European roads and crowded cities existed before cars were invented.
     Right away, the easy to park, eco-friendly car, appealed to Alfred.  She had driven kids around for years in a big Suburban.
      Now, an empty nester, she didn’t need all that room.
     “I only drive to church, the office, to workout, play tennis, and back home,” she says of her five year quest to down size and get a Smart Car.
     A cross town mini car was what the Swatch Mercedes ART, (Smart) was designed for, according to the Swiss watchmaker, Swatch, the original car manufacturer. Later, Swatch partnered with Daimler-Benz and built a factory complex called Smartville in Hambach, France.
     Alfred sat by and watched thousands of used Smart Cars come to the United States, but, it took years for the Mercedes manufacturer to produce new cars that met U.S. emissions standards.
     Finally, in September of 2007, U.S. customers could reserve a Smart Car for ninety-nine dollars with delivery promised for January 2008.  It was such a deal, that without question, Alfred reserved one of the $12,000 - $15,000 vehicles.  The popularity of the automobile backlogged the company’s production by ninety days, while Alfred anxiously sat by waiting for her affordable, energy efficient car.
     Not only would the car be unique, she wanted to use it as a “mobile billboard” for her State Farm insurance business.  
     Husband Bob questioned that she had never driven one; how would she know she would like it?
     A trip to California to visit a son in college solved that.  Alfred found a Smart Car dealership in Santa Barbara that offered her a test drive.  She was surprised how “fine” the car drove at 75 mph down the freeway, and how comfortable it was.  It was easy to park and short enough to allow “nose in” parking.  Its’ 8’x8” length would equal the width of a regular parking slot, allowing two or three Smarts to park in the space as one normal car.
     That particular dealership had a rally red Smart Car with red interior that a fellow had reserved, but didn’t take.
     When the car was offered to her, she immediately said, “I want that car,” and cancelled her original order.
       Arrangements were made to ship the vehicle to Montana.
      The anxious Alfred thought it would be just a week or so before she would officially slide behind the wheel of her Smart car.
     “But, guess what,” she explains, “they lose my car in Sun Valley, California, forty miles from the dealership.
       However, days later, the embarrassed shippers found the Smart Car and ultimately didn’t charge for delivery.
     Now, only weeks on the streets with her three cylinder, 71 horsepower engine car, Alfred is smiling.
    “Everyone thinks it is electric.  No.  It’s gas. It gets around 33 miles per gallon in the city and over 40 mpg on the highway.   And, it has very safe ratings.” 
     Alfred’s Smart Car also has power steering, automatic transmission, power windows and locks, a stereo CD player, a sun roof, four air bags, and a steel encasement around the driver.     If she gets tired of the exterior color, she can interchange the color panels.
     Ecstatic that she finally has her long sought after car, Alfred is surprised at the road attention she garners.
       “It’s a head turner, she says. “When I’m stopped at the traffic lights, people roll down their windows, clap, and give me a thumbs-up.”

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Morocco with the Suits

Morroco with the Suits: story from Polly
     Earlier this summer, pianist, Su Suits sat in a courtyard in Fez, Morocco, playing a Robert Schumann piece.  The impromptu musical moment happened to be at the Museum of Andalusian Music and the director came running out, applauding.   His ears were more tuned to the darbouka (drums), the bendir (tambourines), the kamanja, and the ud (lute): the music of northern Africa.  The melodies coming from the piano delighted him.
     He was just one of the many friendly and hospitable Moroccans that extended a welcoming hand to Su and husband, Thad, on their adventure into ancient Morocco.
     The journey to northern Africa was something that Thad had dreamed for a long time.  Immersed in the study of the Arabic language, he wanted to go where even a taxi cab ride would be a linguistic opportunity.
      Arabic is the native language of Morocco; the sounds of which he recognized as soon as he and Su boated from the south of Spain to Tangiers.
     Upon landing, it was a step back in time, “another world later,” observed Su.  The country of Morocco, somewhat bigger than the size of California, includes the barren Sahara desert, and still yields to the old ways, as they have since the time of the Romans.  Donkeys pull plows or carry wheat in carts that has been harvested by hand.  People greeted you, vibrant people, ready to access you.  The street scene was a bustling barometer of markets where bartering is expected, an intrinsic part of the culture. Salesmanship is a “fine art,” describes Su,one that immediately invites you to participate.  And she did, ignoring the first price of dirhams (their monetary system) the merchant put forward, ultimately making the advantageous purchase in English, and, achieving a surprising compliment.
    “You bargain like a Moroccan woman,” declared one of the local vendors.       
    Immersed in the rich and colorful life of the day to day rhythms, Morocco was the most exotic place the Suits had ever visited.
    “It made me nervous,” said Su. “Life happens in the streets, vendors, souks (markets), tanneries, minarets calling to prayer five times, but the day goes on as usual.”
     Yet, at the same time, when they ventured out on their own, people were friendly, “excessively friendly,”.
     They were sensual and visual.
     According to Su, “they touched my heart.”       
     Moroccans speak Arabic and French, a leftover influence of the 1912 Treaty of Fez which made Morocco a protectorate of France.  Although, Morocco gained independence in 1955, France continues to be their primary trade partner. The government is a constitutional monarchy (King Mohammad VI) with a parliament.  People still learn French which is more widely spoken then English.
     Women have equal rights, “at least on paper,” adds Thad, and they are allowed to work out of their homes.
     To the Suits, global influence was apparent in Morocco.
     Yet, they are still trying to figure out what this mystical area is about. Moroccans do not like to have their picture taken. They saw shrouded women in burqas, and some in western clothing.  Most women wear a hijab to cover their hair, but not their face.  Kiosks boasted The New York Times and world- wide news, while preserved meat sat in markets unrefrigerated, not far from piles of spices, and dates. But then you would notice the cell phones and the daily cry of the minarets.
     While in Fez, the third largest Moroccan city, a cab driver took them to the gate of Medina, the original old walled city of one million people.  Here they were to meet the man of the house where they were staying, Habid. He would walk them through the labyrinth of ancient crowded streets where no autos are allowed.
     “Habid, he’s my best friend,” declared the driver.
     “A one chance encounter in a thousand,” thought Thad, but, it was true.
     Habid met them, and led them to their riad, a traditional Moroccan home where they stayed for five days. Stained glass windows, mosaic floors and old wood, accented the house, called, Dar Bennis, which had been beautifully restored to its original Moroccan architecture.
     Even the first day, and each day following, their outings were only in Arabic, often with Habid in the lead.  But sometimes, they ventured out on their own, and in doing so they found plenty of friendly folk to ease their path.  Interestingly, Thad sought and found some Arabic language instruction from an American teacher who taught at Dartmouth.
     There was lots of give and take, but, “I held my own,” said Thad.  Even the ticket agent at the train station opened his eyes wide and gave him a “thumbs up” after he was trying to figure out the schedule.
     “I had spoken Arabic, and he liked that.”
     In Morocco, it is quite common to see henna on women’s hands and feet for weddings, special occasions, or even just for a treat.  It is applied for luck as well as joy and beauty.  Henna, a native plant, is used to dye the skin in orange and brown intricate patterns that last for two weeks.  The pale paisley remnants on Su’s hands revealed the treatment of an artist that came to their Dar one afternoon and applied the modern mystical adornment. Su enjoyed the experience, one that she wouldn’t pass up, as it was part of just celebrating being in Morocco.
     Those beautiful hands went right into the food as they both smiled and explained the cuisine of Morocco.
     Declaring “one third of the world comes to the table with knives, forks, and spoons; one third takes on chopsticks; and one third (including Moroccans) eat with their hands,” Thad tells it like it was.
      They describe evenings of sitting on cushions at low tables, enjoying couscous, vegetables, and meat food served from dome topped tajines (clay pots).  Mint tea is the ever popular drink, which one must always take time to partake.  It is the hallmark of Moroccan hospitality.
     The fresh ingredients for meals come from the lively markets (souks) where nearly everything is sold.  Shopkeepers and artisans daily appear to hawk their wares among throngs wending their way through crowded narrow ways.
     One of the most unusual souks, is the famous Dabbaghine, a tannery which has been in use for over a thousand years. As Su and Thad approached the tannery, they were given sprigs of mint to sniff to ward off the pungent smell from the processing solution of salt, lime, and pigeon excrement (which contains ammoniac to make the leather soft).  The steps in the tanning process take many, many coats of dipping in huge vats which look like giant water color pools.  The atmosphere is enhanced by the finished tanned hides hanging out to dry from nearby terraces.
     Experiencing the exhilaration of Moroccan traditions and mingling among the daily crowds of jalaba robed masses, the Suits looked around for foreigners. There were not many; and, certainly, very few Americans.
   “We didn’t feel like we were in a tourist zone,” said Thad, adding he “never saw a McDonalds.”
   But they felt the soul of Morocco and the last bastion of what it is. 
     
    


            

Mission Santa Clara

Mission Santa Clara – Travel story from Polly Kolstad
     For many, the nine o’clock evening hour on Sunday harkens to end the weekend and get a good night sleep.
     At Santa Clara University in Santa Clara, California, the late hour welcomes hundreds of students to the celebration of Mass at the old Mission Santa Clara.
     With a reverence reserved for the faithful, the lights dim with the opening prayer, and the old church comes alive as it has for over two hundred years.
     Surrounded by colonnades of blooming rose trees, the beautifully restored edifice, resurrects spiritual pages as well as significant historical notes from the settling of California.
     It may be a little known fact that Santa Clara University is the only college in California to be the successor of a Spanish mission.
     Equally interesting is the fact that Santa Clara University, the oldest college in California, was founded in 1850, and born amid the gold rush.
    The 1777 Spanish mission has survived more than a quadrant of disasters eventually finding its way to the present location on El Camino Real.
     Early Spanish expeditions in the 1770s selected sites for future colonies in California.   The frontier colonies had three institutions: the pueblo, the presidio, and the mission.  Pueblos were the peopled settlements; presidios provided military protection; missions were responsible for the native population.
     The Spanish were intent on civilizing the Native Americans who had lived in the hills and valleys for thousands of years. The missions provided a place for the natives to live, work, and worship.
     The first Mission Santa Clara de Asis, built along the banks of the Guadalupe River near the present San Jose airport, was destroyed when the river overflowed its banks.  A temporary church was built on higher ground.  The mission moved to a third site close to irrigation canals and was blessed on November, 19, 1781.  The mission church survived a long period of calm until it suffered severe damage in the 1818 earthquake.  A temporary adobe church was then constructed on the present site of Kenna Hall on the university campus.  That building eventually became a dance hall during the Mexican secularization period. Mission Santa Clara fell into decrepit disrepair.  A Jesuit priest, John Nobili, was appointed pastor in 1851, and took over the task of reparations and the beginning of instructing students.   The fifth and permanent site of the mission stood with various modifications, until 1926, when it was destroyed by fire, believed to have been started by a mouse who ate through the wiring in the belfry. Restoration of the destroyed church began almost immediately recapturing the appearance of the 1825 church.
     Throughout the history of the mission, the Franciscan fathers assisted the Spanish in administering their government’s policy.  The Franciscans were orderly, dedicated missionaries driven by their desire to bring salvation, life skills, and trades to the Native Americans.  They kept written family records which are invaluable today.
     “They taught fifty-three trades, had cattle, tanneries, made clothing, and glassware,” explained Betty Ross, a local, well-informed docent.
     Today’s impressive façade of the restored church is one of the first sites to greet visitors to the Santa Clara University.
       Beautiful bronze reproductions of the original pear wood statues of St. John the Baptist, St. Clare, and St. Francis, adorn the front of the building. Bells in the bell tower include three that date from the Mission period, and one donated by King Alfonso XIII of Spain.  The bells are still rung at 8:30 each evening.
      Directly across from the building stands a large wooden cross.  This is the original mission cross from 1777 and moved from site to site since then.  Historically, these large crosses were set up to signify each mission, and direct the horseback traveler.  Usually, the missions were about thirty miles apart, a day’s journey. 
     One’s eye is immediately drawn to the brown metal bell to the left of the façade.  In the early days, the large mounted bells served many purposes.   According to historical accounts, the Native Americans had not seen anyone until 1767, and had only what was growing in California.  They had no metal, and were fascinated by the bell.  The colonizers used the bell to call the Indians.    
     Entering the mission church through the wooden doors, the large nave (main floor) is flanked by seven side altars and the sanctuary which houses the main altar and the pulpit.  Several pear wood statues of saints adorn the area.  The high altar ceiling is an exact replica of the 1825 church frescoed with Native American designs.  It also includes an interesting depiction of the Holy Trinity, as three men and an unusual circular painting of cherubs and seraphim above two of the large chandeliers.  Every third angel has its eyes closed.  These representations were taken from the original church and used to teach the Native Americans.  Most symbolic is a crucifix sculpture on a side altar where Father Catala, an early mission priest prayed.  Native American oral history claims that when this holy man prayed, the arms of Christ moved. The chapel also houses the console and pipes of a large organ. Seating on the floor harkens to the past. Hundreds of wooden chairs are set up reverently row upon row.
     For the Sunday evening Mass, students reset all the chairs in a circular pattern.  The old walls swell from the tenor of the ecclesiastical music.
     “I am blown away by all my friends who choose to come here,” said Father Jack Treacy, Director of Campus Ministry.
     “There is a powerful strong meaning here.  It is a spiritual home.”
      Mission Santa Clara is a signet to history and a holy dwelling place that continues to thrive after more than two centuries.
      The Mission Church serves as the university chapel and is used by the university community for Masses, weddings, and concerts.  It is open to the public daily, and welcomes visitors.
     
If you go:  Docents are available for guided tours.    Call the Mission Church office: 408-554-4023.  For more information on the web: www.scu.edu/mission.
Mission Santa Clara
Santa Clara University 
 500 El Camino Real

Santa Clara, CA 95053

Mission Bistro, Stevensville, MT

Mission Bistro
     Usually, it’s the cake that steals the show, but the “amuse bouche,” brought to the table at the Mission Bistro in Stevensville, Montana, immediately raises the “aha” moment.  It’s the unsuspecting surprise that pleases nightly patrons as they settle into the French version of a small inviting and delicious bite that makes the mouth smile.  Recently, unprepared for this gift from the chef, our table was treated to a puff pastry square of wild mushroom sauté crowned with herbed sour cream. 
     That welcome note changes daily as the brother/sister owners, Eric and Angela Loessberg enthusiastically welcome patrons to their quaint restaurant named for St. Mary’s Mission, and based out of a century old farm house just off Stevensville’s main street. The newly whitewashed and decorated thirty-four seat establishment entices gourmet diners to sophisticated dishes prepared for audiences that are surprised to find this fine restaurant in the Bitterrroot Valley.
    “We are both inspired by great food and great service and we wanted to bring that to our friends, family, and community,” says Eric, adding, “food is meant to be enjoyed with a loved one, with people who share the same love and joy of food as you do and we just wanted to provide a warm comfortable place for everyone to gather and serve great food with a smile!
     A few years ago (post haste ten), before he returned to his home town, Eric was honing his culinary skills around the country.
     He initially worked at a restaurant in Missoula while in college.   Not long after, he left for Nevada and eventually landed in the Paddle Wheel Steamboat Cruise Line where as the pastry chef, he made a lot of desserts.  A trip to Seattle to visit a friend ended up being nearly a two year commitment as he attended the Seattle Art Institute Culinary School and graduated with honors.  He interned and worked for three years with “The Chef in the Hat,” Thierry Rautureau’s upscale Rover’s.
     Sister, Angie, has been a waitress, bartender, and barista, in the customer end (the front end) of establishments.  Several years ago, she moved to the east coast and worked in a fine dining restaurant on Martha’s Vineyard.  Yet, home was always calling, so she returned to “the place she loved,” and moved in with her brother.  She worked in a local café, and did some catering before the familial duo opened the Mission Bistro June 1, 2012.
     With his culinary background, Eric’s cuisine style is northwest with French influence.  He buys local  and organic produce from the Big Creek Ranch.  His butter and milk come from the Victor Life Line Creamery. He orders goat cheese from Amaltheia, an organic dairy in Belgrade, Montana.  The only beers sold are from two local breweries: The Black Smith, and the Wildwood Brewery.  They stock a good selection of wines from the Northwest: Washington, Oregon, California and continue to expand the cellar.
      We discovered they have a fresh fish special every night as they fly in pacific seafood out of Seattle.  King salmon, pan seared with herbed red quinoa, and garlic sautéed spinach topped with huckleberry buerre rouge remained an absolute favorite at our table.  However, according to Angie, the most popular fish entrée is the hazelnut crusted filet of sole.
     The grilled rib Eye (10 oz. with red wine reduction) and the pork chop brined with Granny Smith apple chutney/golden raisins will please the meaty palate.
     For pasta lovers, Eric makes his own every day.  His signature dish:  Andouille sausage , Mexican Blue prawns, in a roasted red pepper cream sauce served over homemade pasta. 
     Entrees are conveniently priced from: $16 to $24; accompanied with a choice of roasted red potatoes, garlic mashed potatoes, or red caraway cabbage with bacon.
     With character restraint, a few of us ordered from their small plate menu which included: Brown Butter sea scallops with red lentils, and sautéed radicchio salad ($11.00); Steamed Clams with fennel, Andouille sausage ($11.00); Bison Sliders 3 ways with stone ground mustard ($10.00); and local and imported cheese and salumi plate with fresh bread, and toasted marcona almonds ($11.00)
     The food Eric prepares nightly always includes his succulent French onion soup with a petit crouton and gruyere cheese, and a fresh soup of the night. I had fresh roasted yellow squash, delicious, with dots of crème fraiche surfacing. 
      You don’t get away with just greens when ordering a salad.  The Caesar, spinach, and house salad are all original recipes served with homemade dressings.
      To end it all, save room for dessert.  The former pastry chef (Eric) makes all his own desserts: Big Creek Espresso Crème Brulee; Flour-less Chocolate Torte, Warm Guittard Molten Chocolate Cake served with Big Dipper Vanilla Bean Ice Cream; Cheesecake topped with Huckleberry Sauce, seasonal sorbets, and Big Dipper Vanilla Bean Ice Cream Sundae with Candied Walnuts, Fresh Berries, Caramel and Chocolate Sauce.
     Beneath it all, the kitchen chooses mismatched interesting dishes and stem ware that complement the innovative presentations.  The casual ambience and the attention to details make for a memorable dining experience.  
      Eric has an uncanny eye and is always looking for something fun and local.  He changes the menu with the season.  He is pleased that he gets crowds from Missoula, Hamilton, and the Stock Farm.  This is just the start of a dream.  He hopes to expand in the future. 
     At that, “there’s no time now, he admits, “we are pretty much here seven days a week.”
The Mission Bistro
101 Church Street
Stevensville, Montana
Open: Wednesday thru Saturday 5 -10 pm
9 – 3 pm Sunday brunch
Walk in or call: 406-777-6945