Soybean City (Who needs a goat?)

Betsy the woodstove (named after my Dad's green dodge coupe in the '50's) hard at work on tofu, soymilk and sea salt.

No, we don't let all that crap stay on her. She gets blacked every couple of months, and wiped down when she's cold.

I've never been able to make really good tofu before I began making my own sea-salt.  See how nicely it's curdling?  It's supposed to look like Clouds In A Golden Sky, and it does.

All the soy cooking isn't that difficult.  I make the tofu and the soy out of  one batch of beans. The tofu is made with the first, rich wash of ground soybeans; the soymilk is made with the second. 

I'm an insomniac, but a cup of soymilk whenever I can't sleep sends me right off.

The ground lees go partially into baking, part to the hens, who gobble the white lumps, rich in calcium and protein, like candy.

The yellow whey goes into the dishwater, where it cuts grease, and some is retained for shampoo. 

A bag of soybeans is about $25.00 and makes gallons of tofu and soymilk. Without being butted or having to put netting around all the trees.

THE MORNING'S WORK

Before I get going on the day's artwork, I need to take advantage of the wood stove's morning flare to do the cooking.

A gallon of sea water makes this much sea-salt (Fleur de Clallam).  It's collected from Clallam Bay, out by the far point in that picture. It's slightly damp, very white, and has a very faint sweetness.  Only enough is made for us, Christmas gifts for a few friends and occasionally to sell.  Up here they call it "Donna's Salt."

To keep from getting my clothes wet, I wear a knee-length sweatshirt dress and flip-flops.  Yes, it's cold, but it's never cold enough to freeze.  Two gallons are collected at a time, one for each hand.

Peanut butter cookies, made with the Day of the Dead skulls that didn't make it.  And the bowl of salt.