Pandemonium on the Patio

It's as effective as an alarm clock: early every morning I am awakened by a cacophony of bird song right outside my bedroom window. High-pitched and shrill, and way too happy for the hour, the birds are already in full working mode, darting back and forth all the while chirping at each other with earnestness and purpose.

They're back. Late April every year dozens of common house finches take over the back yard, and every year a nesting pair sets up household on the patio. I'm convinced it's the same pair because after several days of exploring all the nooks and crannies, they inevitably return to their favorite spot -- the top ledge of the outdoor speakers in the corner.

I've been watching for the past week as they built their nest with small twigs and a wad of fluff for cushioning. At the kitchen window I keep my binoculars at the ready and follow the busyness throughout the day. Building the nest has been a two-bird job, both male and female adding small sticks and tucking them one by one into the framework. But the nest is now complete, and their shared construction job has given way to new roles. The female has taken over the nest, while the male visits often, staying just long enough to evaluate the situation then dart off again to do who knows what.

The female spends a great deal of time chirping out towards the yard seemingly to no one in particular, although when I listen carefully I can detect her mate's response. What is she saying? Is she going over the shopping list for her guy? Calling for room service?

Other times, she sits quietly without moving a feather for long periods of time. Is she contemplating motherhood?

My own activity in the kitchen annoys her. When I do dishes in the sink or open the window, she sits up higher in the nest, readying herself for flight. But it's when I open the patio door that she reaches her limit of patience, flying off and leaving the nest unprotected (although I'm sure she's watching my every move from a nearby tree). I wish she understood that I'm not a predator. As soon as the eggs are laid, both parents will have to fend off blue jays looking for easy pickings. I always dread finding a small crushed egg on the patio, knowing that a jay has finally scored a tasty meal.

By mid-May, a new set of voices will be added to the mix as the chicks hatch and start their endless demand for food. Both mother and father will spend every daylight hour foraging for their youngsters.

And then, almost as quickly as it all started, it will be over. The chicks will fledge and abandon the nest along with their parents. The patio will get quiet again, and I will be able to re-claim my lounge chair where I can read the newspaper in peace without disturbing my little avian family. But I will miss the cacophony -- even at the crack of dawn -- and the dedicated purpose with which nature's creatures live their lives.

Blossoms

Early this morning I took my tea out to the garden to have a look. The grass was dewy, the light was soft, and the sweet fragrance in the air was exhilarating. It seemed like everything was in bloom -- the fruit trees, the citrus trees, the roses, and the wisteria covering the pergola and the arbor. Not much to say here except admire the beauty.

 Beverly Hills Apple: deep pink buds open to reveal pale pink petals.

Blood Orange: creamy white from bud to blossom.

Meyer Lemon: fuscia buds open to white petals.

Wisteria: deep purple from bud to blossom in grape-like clusters.

Margaret Merril: a beautiful old-fashioned peachy-white floribunda rose with a 

luscious fragrance that blooms all season long.

Comfort Food, Part Deux: Chicken & Dumplings

The girls were planning another midweek get-together, something we'd all looked forward to before our pal Katrina returns to England. Since the weather forecast was for wind and some late season rain and I was in the mood -- again -- for comfort food, I volunteered to bring the main course: savory chicken and dumplings. I had made this dish a few times before, but had always served it straight from the stove, right after the dumplings were done. I wasn't sure how to the timing would work after pre-cooking it at home, cooling the pot before lugging it to a friend's house, then waiting for cocktails to be consumed before re-heating and serving to the ladies. I found out.

 After the chicken is browned, add the vegetables and herbs.

This is a very fragrant dish to cook. My kitchen was redolent with rosemary and thyme, freshly plucked from the garden. It started out beautifully: nicely browned chicken and colorful vegetables, but by the time it was served (almost 4 hours later), it had become a colorless blob. A couple of the ladies volunteered that they had never eaten chicken and dumplings before ("It's a Southern dish, isn't it?") and I hope they will not judge the dish by the way it was looked last night.

Here's the process. I've divided the ingredients into groups, according to each step.

Chicken & Dumplings

6-8 chicken thighs, boneless and skinless
2-3 Tablespoons extra virgin olive oil
1/4 cup all-purpose flour
1 teaspoon salt
1/2 teaspoon fresh black pepper
1 teaspoon paprika

1 large onion, chopped
2 large carrots, chopped or 1+ cups packaged baby carrots
3 stalks celery, chopped
3 large cloves garlic, chop fine
1 Tablespoon fresh parsley, minced
2 Tablespoons fresh thyme, minced
3 Tablespoons fresh rosemary, minced

1 cup dry white wine
2 cups chicken stock

Heat the oil until very hot, but not smoking, in a large stockpot -- wide, not deep. Toss the chicken pieces together in a plastic bag with the flour, salt and pepper, and paprika until the chicken is well coated. Place the thighs in the hot oil and brown on both sides. If the pot won't hold all the chicken pieces at one time, brown them in batches, setting aside the finished pieces while you add new pieces. Add the onions, carrots, celery, garlic and herbs and cook for about 10-12 minutes until the onions become translucent. Add the wine and stock and bring to a boil, reduce the heat and simmer, covered, for about an hour until the chicken is tender.

Meanwhile, make the dumplings.

1/4 cup shortening (like Crisco)
1-1/2 cups all-purpose flour
1/2 cup yellow cornmeal (keeps the dumplings from getting too doughy)
1/2 teaspoon salt
3 teaspoons baking powder
2 Tablespoons fresh parsley, minced
3/4 cup milk

Mix the dry ingredients together with the parsley in a large bowl. Cut in the shortening. Make a well in the center of the flour mixture and add the milk. Mix lightly until the milk is incorporated. No need to handle the dough and roll into little balls. Just use a teaspoon, and drop 1-inch globs of dough on top of the simmering chicken. Cover and cook 10 minutes until the dumplings have expanded and become fluffy. Do not stir and do not lift the lid: the dumplings need the steam to cook properly.

This served the five of us, with plenty of leftovers.

 Dumplings steaming in the pot with the cooked chicken.

While some cooks like to pull apart the cooked chicken into lots of smaller bite-sized pieces, I like to keep the chicken thighs whole. That way, the rich brown coating adds to the visual appeal. I also think that one dumpling per serving is sufficient and looks better than a bowlful of dumplings hiding the chicken and veggies underneath.

In the end, my lovely chicken and dumplings were woefully overcooked by the time we tucked into dinner. I'd be the last one to end any cocktail hour prematurely, but if we'd eaten an hour earlier, I think this time-honored Southern staple would've been better received.

P.S. The wine, asparagus, salad and dessert were great!