This post is dedicated to Sam, who emailed me in the FALL to nudge me to post to the blog. (The blog has also found a new home here on my site…) Sam, I never even answered the email, but you've been camped out in my brain, whispering "Did you post yet? Come on, Kate. Get on it!" for months. :)
I've been pretty quiet recently. In one of the many updates that I composed in my head but never posted, I was going to write and say how 2014 was an epic, amazing year. I got married, made an album, and moved. Twice. It was great, and eventful, but by August I was wiped out. By the fall, I still made and played music, but with less gigs and at a slower pace. I needed it.
It's always come in waves like that for me, and a slow time is always followed by an, "Oh, man. I miss music" exclamation and then some frantic gig booking. That happened around Christmas and as a result I scored some awesome opening slots in the Northeast with my friend Amy Speace. (DC, PA and Boston, I'll see you in April! Check the shows page for details.)
So, I just wanted to say hi. And that I miss you. And that I'm still making music. Here's a rough demo of a not-quite-there song from a few months back.
Also, I'm working on a new project. A collaboration. Due in August. Infer from that what you will :)
I leave on Wednesday morning for a brief Texas tour. (It's gonna be awesome. I even planned a stopover at Degray Lake on my way there for a little self-reflection.) If you're remotely near Texas, you should come!
August 18, 2011 (Thursday) Johnny Cace's Restaurant, Longview, TX, 7:00pm
Anyway, I showed some restraint and decided to NOT go out to dinner tonight, but rather use up some of the food in my fridge. Specifically, anything that would go bad while I'm on the road. And with that, I give you this recipe. And by recipe, I mean a series of questions that leads to food. (Confession: I did consult a couple recipes for some guidance. But then threw most of that out the window)
Kate's Pre-tour Everything in the Fridge Black Bean Burgers
One can of black beans? Definitely
Leftover brown rice? Yup.
Strawberries? No. Gross. Eat those on the side.
Most of a bag of clementines? Also, no. Eat those with the strawberries.
Shredded carrots? Hmmm. Yeah. Why not. But just a handful because a carrot burger sounds gross.
Some of your roommates onion? Yes. Sauté it. Fancy girl.
Bag of pre-peeled garlic cloves that says "Best used by August 11th"? Also, yes. Two cloves. Sauté that too.
Sweet and Spicy Korean Sauce? Live dangerously! Shit just got interesting!
Now squeeze/mix it all together with your right hand (which is going to be covered in this stuff) while randomly throwing spices in with your left hand. BONUS: This has no meat so you can taste as you go to make sure this doesn't taste like poison. I used cumin, chili pepper, red pepper flakes, salt and pepper.
...AND IT WAS AWESOME. I made the patty and pan fried it in the leftover oil from the onions and garlic. (Healthy fats, right?) I also managed to use 2 of my last 3 slices of bread and top it with the remnants of a bagged salad, as well as some more of that Korean Sauce which turned out to be a brilliant decision.
A tradition is born, my friends. Who knows what the next tour will bring? Kate's Pre-Tour Everything Perishable Pasta salad? A girl can dream. See you in Texas. :)
P.S. - Yes, I should have taken a picture but I was very hungry.
How To Video: Sweet Potato Horse Head (And What I'm Thankful for This Year)
November 25, 2010
Well, it's Thanksgiving, and I have much to be thankful for (including, but not limited to: the great folks who support my art, my family, amazing friends, health, happiness and Local Taco). I'm super thankful, but I won't bore you with it. Just know that I am.
For this post, I'll just write about one thing in particular that I'm thankful for: family traditions. Specifically, my favorite tradition of all time, the Thanksgiving Sweet Potato war.
Friends, let me tell you a story.
The Story of the Sweet Potato War
Twenty years ago, when I was 8 years old, and long before I thought they were delicious, I was offered my first taste of sweet potatoes. As most second graders would, I instantly thought they were revolting. Impressed by my incredible bravery, my older brother asked how they were.
"Delicious," I responded without thinking. I don't know why I lied. Wait–yes I do. I lied so I could trick Matt into eating them. He fell for it, and after he'd taken one mushy, disgusting bite, I burst out laughing. The seed was planted. He would have revenge.
The next year, Matt snuck sweet potatoes into my food. One sneaky little spoonful was tucked underneath my regular (safe, delicious, non-orange) mashed potatoes. Oh the horror! Later that meal (or perhaps the following Thanksgiving... it gets blurry) I snuck sweet potatoes into his milk. Simple enough.
It grew from there. In 5th grade, I made a blow dart out of a drinking straw, and in a move that would become Klim family history, blew sweet potato into his mouth from across the table as he raised his fork to eat.
In college, I worked in a hardware store and (partially out of boredom) started plotting months in advance. I came home armed with invisible wire, eye hooks, and a CD that included Handel's Hallelujah Chorus. This was now the post-divorce era, and our Thanksgivings were no longer the big productions of my childhood. Assigned seating was a thing of the past, but one person had an assigned seat that year.
Matt humored me by sitting at the seat in front of the place card bearing his name.
I waited until dinner was well underway, and then turned around and pressed play on a portable stereo I had stashed beneath a side table. The chorus began to play. At that moment, I untaped the end of the invisible wire, which had been strung through a series of eyehooks in a makeshift pulley system, and as I slowly fed the wire more slack, a sweet potato lowered from the ceiling onto Matt's plate. My cousins applauded. Once again, history was made.
Since then, the tradition has faded as life continues to offer more and more distractions and holidays become rushed. I missed the past two Thanksgivings to play gigs. Matt has a family of his own. There have been attempts (such as giving Matt's daughter a Mr. Potato Head as a Thanksgiving gift, and having her unwrap it in front of him only to find a sweet potato adorned with plastic facial accessories), but I've never matched the Hallelujiah-descending-potato.