Her Marsh
On a Friday walk along the Maybrook trail, and a woman who has been writing about the same marsh for five decades.
I rose from marsh mud,
algae, equisetum, willows,
sweet green, noisy
birds and frogs
— Lorine Niedecker
A red-winged blackbird jealously watching over her marsh home, indignant of the passer-bys that get too close.
Nearly nine and a half miles on the Maybrook trail yesterday. We left the house at four, thanks to the beginning of the holiday weekend, drove to lake Tonetta in Brewster, NY, and were walking by just after four thirty. The light held longer than expected. We came home at dusk and made a pizza.
The Maybrook trail used to be the Maybrook Train line. At one time, the Maybrook line carried general freight, lumber, coal, dairy, manufactured goods, and paper moving between the Western railroads at Maybrook Yard and New England destinations. And then, after the Poughkeepsie Bridge fire in May 1974, the Maybrook line was severed in the middle and lost its purpose as a New England gateway. The rails sat unused, and eventually the section was converted to trail as part of the Empire State Trail system. The Poughkeepsie Bridge was eventually restored. It reopened in 2009 as the Walkway over the Hudson State Park for pedestrian use. You walk the Maybrook Trail now and the old track is still there, half-buried in blackberry, wild roses ,and yellow spurge that loves old gravel. The new asphalt runs alongside the old steel for miles. Two ways of crossing the same ground: the old one sleeping under flowers, the new one carrying us forward.
For several miles we walk by marsh, water grass standing tall, birds everywhere, loud green music and the midges, always the midges. I recently came across the Niedecker poem I cited up top when looking for works about marshes. It is not the first time that I am struck by the beauty of Northeast marsh and all the wildlife it contains. Niedecker lived almost her whole life on Black Hawk Island in Wisconsin, in a small house on a slough that flooded most springs. She worked as a hospital cleaner. She wrote short poems in relative obscurity. The marshes were hers.
A female red-winged blackbird watched us from a perch among the foliage, streaked brown and cream, with an apricot throat. I watched her for a long time as she hopped about from perch to perch, keeping an eye on us the whole time. She kept chirping loudly and indignantly, although there were no other birds around. I can only assume she was talking to us. We were the strangers in her marsh, and she made sure we knew it. Eventually we walked on. She stayed, still chirping, perhaps to no one, perhaps to the next walkers coming up the trail. Perhaps she had something to say. More likely, she was guarding a nest we couldn’t see.
The blackberries were already blooming where the old ballast meets the new path. White flowers on a thorny cane growing up through gravel meant to keep nothing growing. I stopped and took a picture of them. They will be fruit by the time I come back from Spain.
This long weekend I am hiking every day. Four walks across four days, at least two of them shooting for 16 miles. I will write about those when they are finished. For now there is only this one, a Friday after work, the bird guarding her marsh home, the rails sleeping under the path, the blackberry flowers.
I wore the Altra Olympus 6 yesterday. I had been alternating between the Brooks Glycerin and the Topo Phantom, and the Altras are a different proposition entirely. Zero drop, an absurd stack of cushion, a Vibram sole that holds on wet asphalt and old gravel without thinking about it. The toe box is the widest I have walked in. Bonus is they do not get wet even when it rains for hours, as long as it’s not pouring. My most likely choice for the Camino now, unless my Achilles objects.
Sometimes the day becomes a blur from trying to fit things in and I am looking at the end of it with 50 grams of protein still below norm, and you should not neglect your muscles. Trouble is, I am also a picky eater and very few things sound appealing after a long hike. This recipe was born of necessity: a protein-rich meal on a weeknight, made quickly, without giving up the pleasure of a golden crust and melted cheese. The crust is a blend of drained farmer’s cheese and ricotta, bound with one egg and two egg whites, then baked until it holds the firmness of a proper pastry base. The Gruyère, generously grated, brings the depth of an alpine pasture. Tomato paste, lifted with some Herbs de Provence, turns an ordinary Friday supper into something that asks you to slow down.
Pizza au Fromage Blanc, à la Gruyère
For one — individual pizza, fresh cheese crust
Ingredients
For the crust:
100 g low-fat farmer’s cheese (Lifeway or tvorog style), well drained
100 g ricotta, 2%
1 whole egg
2 egg whites
A pinch of fine salt
For the topping:
2 tablespoons tomato paste
1 tablespoon water
1 small clove of garlic, finely minced
A pinch of Herbes de Provence
40 g Gruyère, finely grated
A few leaves of fresh basil or parsley, for finishing
Method
Preheat the oven to 400°F (200°C). Line a baking sheet with parchment paper.
If the farmer’s cheese gives off water, press it in a clean cloth or fine sieve to remove any moisture. The drier it is, the better the crust will hold. Do the same with the ricotta if necessary.
In a mixing bowl, combine the two cheeses, the whole egg, the two whites, and the pinch of salt. Mix thoroughly until you have a smooth, thick but supple preparation.
Spread the mixture onto the prepared sheet, forming a disc of roughly 8 to 9 inches in diameter. Leave the edges slightly thicker so they will form the crisp rim of the pizza.
Bake for 15 to 18 minutes, until the surface is set, dry to the touch, and the edges have taken on a good golden color. Do not cut the bake short: an undercooked crust would collapse beneath the topping.
Meanwhile, thin the tomato paste with the tablespoon of water, then stir in the minced garlic and Herbes de Provence.
Remove the crust from the oven. Spread the tomato sauce evenly across the surface, leaving a thin border at the edge. Scatter the grated Gruyère across the top.
Return to the oven for 5 to 7 minutes, until the cheese has melted, bubbled, and begun to color in places.
Scatter with basil or parsley leaves. Let rest for two minutes before slicing.
A note from the cook
Gruyère melts with an elegance that mozzarella cannot match, and its more pronounced character justifies using less. One can substitute an aged Comté for a rounder, fuller flavor.
The pizza is roughly 487 calories, with 53 grams of protein. For a fuller lunch or dinner, serve it alongside a green salad, simply dressed with a teaspoon of unrefined sunflower oil or a squeeze of lemon.
The farmer’s cheese crust is a versatile base. It works equally well topped with smoked salmon and dill, sautéed mushrooms and thyme, or roasted peppers and crumbled goat cheese. In each case, the topping is added after the first bake. The second, brief one will not be long enough to cook raw vegetables through.
27 days until the Camino