Note:  When I opened my News letter from Christ in the Desert I was immediately drawn to the essay "Chicago Christmas Carol".  I'm from Chicago and my name is Carol.  Shared with permission.

​By Brother Chrysostom

The theme of this newsletter referenced community. While at the writers’ residency this summer I learned about flash fiction (a short story consisting of less than 1500 words). I wish to share with you a Christmas themed piece that showcases a community that I love and that shaped me, Chicago. I have learned as a monastic that it is what we bring from the communities that formed us to the monastery that creates the vibrancy of intimacy between monks. I hope the story achieves a threefold purpose: 1) sharing the fruits of a Creative Writing MFA with supporters of our Educational Appeal, 2) sharing Chicago with a wider audience, and 3) building a monastic community where art and letters complement evangelization. I hope you enjoy it. Merry Christmas.

Aunt Jane is my mother’s older sister and my favorite aunt. Every early December after the first of the holiday specials--Rudolph the Red Nose Reindeer, A Charlie Brown Christmas, Santa Clause is Coming to Town--airs on ABC and CBS, Aunt Jane arranges for me and her to have our Chicago Christmas.

It is late Sunday morning. Mom and Dad have gone to 8:00 am Mass at Our Lady of Peace. They let me sleep in. I miss Frisky. He had to be put to sleep three days ago because the vet told us that his problems wouldn’t get any better. I am a big boy. I can understand. I am almost ten years old and I can stay at home alone while my parents go to Mass three short blocks away. When they come home, I want to stay in bed. They will get me out of bed and rush me to get ready because Aunt Jane is coming over soon.

I wash up quickly, put on my brown thick cord corduroy pants, my cordovan Buster Brown shoes, t-shirt, clean white collar shirt, and a crew neck sweater with bands of light brown and black. I make sure that my afro is neat and fluffy with my pick in front of the bathroom mirror. I hear the horn of Aunt Jane’s 1970 Blue Dodge Dart outside. Quick kisses and hugs from my mother and father and a rush to grab my loden coat, knit skull cap, scarf, and mittens heralds the metallic clang of the storm door closing behind me. I bound down the steps while humming the finale of A Charlie Brown Christmas. The soles of my Buster Brown shoes make scuffed tracks in the thin layer of snow to the back door of Aunt Jane’s car.

No sooner do I close the door and kiss the back of her neck, which has the chemical smell of the relaxer that her hairdresser uses, than the car is gliding down our neighborhood toward Lake Shore Drive. We are going downtown. Downtown! Snowmen, nutcrackers, and Santas populate the front yards of the neat bungalows we pass along the way. Strings of lights outline doorways and wrap around exterior ferns and trees. The lights excite me, but I know that the lights on State Street are better.

Aunt Jane finds parking easily on Madison Avenue and we get out of the car and walk a block or so to St Peter’s Catholic Church. Aunt Jane works for Catholic Charities downtown and attends Mass here most mornings before starting her work day. She loves this church with its high ceilings. The Franciscans in their brown robes and knotted rope belts and sandals are happy to see us. She likes the Franciscans, too. We make it in time for Mass. There are no Christmas decorations. The outside world with lights and decorations doesn’t know that Christmas is still a week and days away. They don’t care. They are going to have Christmas before the baby Jesus even comes at Midnight Mass! I kneel down before Mass and say a prayer for Frisky. One of the Franciscan priests comes over and hugs Aunt Jane as I pray. I want to ask him if dogs go to heaven, but I don’t.

After Mass we file out of church into the cold with some other people and make our way to Marshall Fields & Company. I can read street signs. We take a left down Clark Street and then up Washington Street. Aunt Jane wants to show me the Picasso in Daley Plaza. It reminds me of a dragon, but the large Christmas tree close by makes it less scary. The large jutting clocks on the corner of the Marshall Fields & Company department store look so heavy. I don’t want them to crush me. The illuminated faces on the clock have hands that mean something to me. I can tell time. It was 12:20 pm.

We pass through a heavy revolving door into a Christmas palace. A large Christmas tree higher than my house stands in the middle of the store. Gold, silver, red, and blue bulbs hang off branches. There are also rocking horses, tin soldiers, teddy bears, clowns, elves, and other presents decorating the biggest Christmas tree I have ever seen. Aunt Jane holds my hand tightly and we wind through the cosmetic section, the chocolate section, and the handbag section to one of the many wooden escalators that will take us up to the Walnut Room. We pass my favorite floor, the 4th floor, that has toys. But, I don’t care.

There is a long wait in line to eat lunch. My legs are getting tired, but we are finally seated at a table next to the top of the huge Christmas tree that we saw when we first came in. A model train is making its way around a track above our heads. We order hamburgers which came with special French fries that were almost like fat potato chips. I don’t like my hamburger because the bun has butter on the inside. “Herbert, eat your hamburger, the butter is supposed to make it moist,” Aunt Jane said. I eat my hamburger, but I want a McDonald’s Quarter Pounder with cheese.

After lunch, Aunt Jane goes shopping in the ladies’ section which goes up several floors. I ask if I could go to the 4th floor and look at the toys. Aunt Jane agrees, but tells me to wait for her down there. I have fun looking at the space ships and castles. The large die cast toy cars are my favorite. Buried within the mound of Gund animals of different sizes is a dog that looked like Frisky. I like it. But I want a real dog. I so hope Santa would bring me the Batmobile with the launching rockets that I want.

When we leave Marshall Fields & Company the large three faced clock on the corner of Randolph and State reads 3:30 pm. As the sky grows darker and the Christmas lights along State Street grow brighter, Aunt Jane and I join the procession of Christmas window gazers who joyfully file by animated windows of Christmas scenes for the next five blocks. Large department stores like Carson Pirie Scot, Sears, Montgomery Ward, Wiebolt’s, and Goldblatt’s each Christmas season deck their windows with Santas, reindeer, snowmen, and elves.

Aunt Jane who is much taller than I sees it before I do. She puts her hands on the shoulders of my loden coat and leads me through the crowd closer to the corner of the store. At the last Marshall Fields & Company window before crossing Washington Street to Carson’s, there was a winter wonderland scene with children ice skating, throwing snowballs, and sledding down hills. In the corner of the snow scene is a lone boy and a dog playing catch. The boy doesn’t look like me at all, he has yellow blonde hair, but the dog looks just like Frisky! I smile at Aunt Jane and she hugs me. Hark the Herald Angels Sing is playing on a speaker at Carson Pirie Scot across the street. Snow is coming down. Aunt Jane takes my hand and leads me away from the Frisky in the window. She knows that Santa would have Max, a small wirehaired terrier puppy, under my Christmas tree soon.

​One of the best things about our traditional American Thanksgiving dinner is the choice of leftovers and the creative uses to which such leftovers can be put.  Thanksgiving evening, shortly after we think, “I can’t eat another thing,” we may find ourselves heading to the kitchen and opening the fridge to see what would make a quick snack.  For me, that is usually a leftover biscuit split in half, dabbed with mayo, and filled with a small piece of cold turkey and topped with a spoonful of cranberry sauce.

My favorite leftover, however, is Turkey Carcass Soup.  Making it also clears out the fridge a bit.  Though not as rich as a traditional bone broth because the turkey bones have given up most of their goodness during the roasting process, this soup is satisfying because of the addition of fresh vegetables, frozen corn, and wild rice.  It became even more filling the year I decided to make croutons from leftover stuffing.

The morning after Thanksgiving, while the Turkey Carcass Soup was simmering gently on the stove, perfuming the whole house, and working up appetites for lunch, I was rearranging the fridge.  “What can I do with all this leftover stuffing?” I wondered.  I transferred it to a large rectangular baking dish and baked it until crisp and cut it into small squares to top the soup.  Ever since, these croutons have been part of this soup recipe, which I hope you will try this Thanksgiving.

A New Mexico friend—when she lived on a small farm in Michigan—threw a star-gazing party most every August during the Persied Meteor Showers.  Friends from several states would arrive in campers and trucks loaded with food.  One year, three turkeys were brought—my smoked turkey, a roasted turkey, and one made on site on a Weber grill.  After a long, sumptuous outdoor feast and lots of oohs and aahs as we watched the meteors, several women gathered in the farm-house kitchen and began stripping the turkey carcasses of meat, and all during the night a large stock pot simmered with turkey bones and meat and lots of vegetables.  The first person to waken was expected to enter the kitchen and turn on the huge coffee pot already filled with water and coffee.  As I crawled out of my pup tent, I realized I was the only person there to see the sun rise.  Walking up the steps to the kitchen, I was overwhelmed with the smell of turkey carcass soup.  Sometimes I think I can still smell it.  Yes, I know I can!
​
Ingredients
​dressing (stuffing) left over from turkey dinner
butter
​3 tablespoons salt
1 tablespoon black pepper
2 tablespoons sage
10 cups cold water
​1 large onion, diced
1/2 stalk of celery, diced and including leaves
1 handful of flat-leaf parsley leaves, chopped
6 large carrots, peeled and cut into 1/2-inch ‘sticks’
carcass of 1 roasted turkey, stripped of meat
​1 cup wild rice, rinsed and drained
3 cups water
1/2 teaspoon salt
​the diced, left-over turkey cooked wild rice
1 cup frozen corn
​flat-leaf parsley, chopped
baked dressing croutons

​Directions

• ​After turkey dinner, place leftover dressing into a buttered large rectangular baking dish.  Pat down to an inch in height.  Cover/refrigerate until soup is in process.
  
• Throw Seasonings into a large stock pot and add 10 C Water
• ​When water comes to a boil, add remaining ingredients; return to a boil; then, lower heat and simmer for 2 hours.  While soup is simmering, dice left-over turkey; set aside.  While soup is simmering, cut cold dressing in baking dish into 1/2-inch dice.  Bake in preheated 375-degree F oven until brown on top.  Remove from baking dish and separate into croutons.  If croutons are not crisp on bottom, return loosened croutons, a half batch at a time, to oven to finish browning.  Remove from oven; set aside.  While soup is simmering, prepare wild rice (see below).
• Put all ingredients into a medium saucepan; bring to a boil; stir.  Lower heat to very low; lid the pot; let wild rice absorb all of the liquid (takes 45 to 60 minutes).  Set aside.  Chicken or vegetable stock can be substituted for water.
• ​At end of 2-hour cooking period, retrieve and discard turkey carcass.  Incorporate diced turkey, wild rice, and frozen corn, stirring well.  Cook for an additional 10 minutes.  Remove soup from heat.  Note:  Adding a little turkey bouillon at this point intensifies the flavor of this soup.  Recommended:  Better than Bouillon Turkey Base.
  Pour soup into a tureen or into individual soup bowls.  Garnish with parsley.  Pass croutons in a separate bowl.  Serve immediately.

 
EnJOY

by Jessica Rath

It saves energy. It uses less electricity because it doesn’t emit much heat; plus, foods are cooked much faster than in an oven.

It saves calories. Deep-fried foods need several cups of oil, air frying takes just a teaspoon; sometimes a little more.
​
It saves time. A conventional oven has to be preheated; by the time the oven is ready the meal in the air fryer is already cooked. 

Plus, it’s convenient because you can leave it and let it do its thing; it’s easy to clean; food cooks quickly so nutrients tend to be retained; and you can use it to reheat leftovers and thaw frozen food.

Here are some recipes to get you started:

​Preparation:
Cut the tofu and place in a medium bowl. Crumble it, either using your fingers or a fork. Add soy sauce and other ingredients except olive oil and cheese, mix thoroughly, and let rest. 

Prepare the mushrooms: wipe the caps with a moist paper towel; normally, that’s all it takes to remove dust and dirt. Remove the stems and save them for soup stock or stir-fry. Using a teaspoon, gently scrape off the black gills from the mushroom caps. Make sure you don’t create nicks or cracks in the rim. Brush the caps with a bit of olive oil and set them cap-side down on a plate. Divide the stuffing mixture evenly between the mushrooms, pressing it down gently so they are full but not overflowing. Top with vegan cheese. 

Place the mushrooms into the basket of your air fryer. Set the temperature to 375 F and fry for 10 minutes. Increase temperature to 400 F and fry for another 3 - 5 minutes, until the cheese has browned.

​Preparation:
Wash the potatoes, scrub them with a vegetable brush, and pat dry. You don’t have to peel them if the skin is thin but remove any spots. Cut them into half and then into wedges about ¼” thick. Rinse in cold water to remove starch, then dry well with paper towels. 
Toss with olive oil, salt, and spices.
Place into the airfryer in roughly one even layer. Fry at 375 F for 10 minutes. Shake them, increase temperature to 400 F, and fry for another 10 minutes.

​Preparation:
Cut the tofu into ¼” cubes and place in a medium bowl. Add soy sauce and let it stand for about 10 minutes, tossing the tofu a few times so that the soy sauce soaks in evenly. Strain the tofu, reserve the soy sauce for another dish. Then coat the tofu evenly with the nutritional yeast.
Place into the airfryer, one even layer, and fry at 400 F for 10 minutes. Shake once or twice in between.

Greg Lewandowski
See Greg's Photography online

​​The Ojitos trail can be found 8 miles down 151 off of 84. This is the monastery road. Be cautious on 151 there are very sharp switch backs and plenty of opportunity to slide off the road. Just at 8 miles on the left is a small parking are with some forestry boards up with info about the area. Skull bridge is also right there.
 
On the right is the tailhead (TH). There is a pole marker near the TH. It’s a narrow trail and starts off uphill over rocky terrain. This is part of the Continental Divide Trail. It is well traveled and well maintained. There are no forks to worry about. Watch for switchbacks. As you hike up you will begin to see over your shoulder excellent views of the Chama River Valley, part of the Chama River Wilderness. I stopped frequently to take in these majestic views. The trail goes through a few clearings, some narrow uphill spots and always rocky.
 
After about 2 miles you will go through a forested area. Quite lovely with the light through the trees as it hits the trail. After 4 miles you will have reached the top of the ridge where the trail flattens out. You will have climbed 1600 feet of elevation in 4 miles. On the top are more majestic views of the valley. I hiked another 2 miles before turning back. I found the top of the ridge to be a great spot for a backpacking trip. The morning and evening light on the red rock walls and the river would make for some great photos.
 
I would rate this to be a moderately difficult hike. It took me about 7 hours and I covered close to 12 miles.
 
Prep
Hiking poles
Sturdy hiking boots
Although this is a day hike it is still a wilderness hike and I always carry appropriate equipment A search and rescue device, I use Garmin inReach.
A GPS, I use the Gaia app on my iPhone. It will track me back if I get off the trail and I save the trail on my unit.
I took 2L of water although I didn’t use it all I always pack a head lamp.
 
Be safe and enjoy our wilderness area.

Young people just don’t read books anymore. This must be truth, because I hear it from plenty of old people who must know exactly what young people do with their spare time. They then proceed to walk away from me without buying any of the books I’m selling.
 
I cannot promise that these old people are the same old people who gape at young people who don’t own televisions. But I can promise they are the same old people who drove the young people off Facebook fifteen years ago.
 
Granted, there are solid cases to be made for the decline of reading. Take me, for instance. Me getting published anywhere at all on a regular basis suggests heavily that no one reads anymore, regardless of age. Unless it’s the birds and gerbils whose cages get lined by my work. The US Census Bureau does not track such things, but if they did, I suspect they would find more people light fires with my work than read any single piece from start to middle.
 
But I am just one man. I can produce only so much writing—as much as half a man, or perhaps a quarter. There are dozens more people like me out there, each of us struggling to craft the perfect cup of tea. Some of them are actually succeeding in writing back-cover copy for other people’s books well enough to get them banned. Banned, I tell you! And by people you KNOW don’t read.
 
Now I can’t articulate exactly why it is okay to start a fire with my junk published in a newspaper, but abominable to start a fire with a book. Nor can I explain why burning a book is worse than banning, because it isn’t, other than in a matter of degrees. (Most bannings, for instance, take place at room temperature.)
 
All I know is that if I can’t stop people from condemning books to the ol’ burn-n-ban, dammit, I want them to condemn my work too. Because that is the SUREST way to get someone to read it. Or at least to buy it—can’t burn it if you don’t got it.
 
Frankly, I can’t figure out why I haven’t had more books banned, aside from the fact that I haven’t written very many. I am always game to “punch up,” as comedy experts say—to take a swing at The Man, the powers-that-be, particularly if I think they are unlikely to read it.
 
Take the old people who think young people don’t ready anymore. I’m pretty certain they read only the Wall Street Journal and/or the CNN crawl, neither of which has picked me up for syndication (yet). I can “punch up” because their horses are so high, and most especially because they don’t know I exist.
 
But I will refrain from punching anyone, old or young, up or down, because I have faith in humanity. I was recently in attendance at a party for adults, in honor of a kid’s ninth birthday. I hung out with the kid, mostly because they had Legos, but also because I made a day-long commitment when I asked what they’ve been reading.
 
I learned—in greater detail than the original text—about their current favorite book series, which I’m pretty certain involved a kid and most definitely dragons and the kid had bullies and also sisters (which were maybe the same people) and these other people also had dragons who weren’t allowed in the apartment complex which was a problem because CLEARLY you cannot keep your dragons OUTDOORS, especially on a day like THIS, and you don’t even understand how cool the main character’s clothing is, which she makes herself with the dragon’s keen fashion sense guiding her, but the other dragons don’t appreciate the chic bent to apartment D-3, so they bond together to wipe out both the main character and her dragon, and it’s possible the lines bled between the book series and the Lego village we were touring together while enduring the synopsis, but you get the gist and also I evaded conversations about the stock market so it was a real win-win.
 
This: this is the greatest hope I have for the future. I’m pretty certain we’re all going to die in an overheated, ever-erratic climate like that time I forgot banana bread was in the oven. But until that happens, kids and other young people will keep reading, and bookstore sales will continue to climb so long as we have trees to make books and zealots to spike book sales by banning books. I just hope some of them are mine. 

Jessica Rath
​You’d never guess it’s vegan. 

Although I enjoy watching The Great British Baking Show (you can catch the latest series on Netflix, with a new episode every Friday), I hardly ever feel tempted to try one of their bakes which often are visually stunning, but..: milk, eggs, butter, cream, etc. are almost always the basic ingredients. Often they add gelatin, lard, even suet; and savory bakes can include just about any part of various animals. Neither do I like spending lots of hours preparing different batters, doughs, glazes, stuffings, frostings, and decorations, unless there is a very special occasion. 

So here is an embarrassingly simple treat that doesn’t take much more than 20 minutes to prepare and is all vegan. 

Ingredients:
    • 1 prepared pie crust 
    • 1/3 cup organic sugar
    • 1/3 cup cocoa powder
    • 3 TS cornstarch
    • ¼ ts salt
    • Dash of cayenne pepper
    • 2 ¼ cup soy or other plant-based milk
    • 1TS cocoa butter
    • 1 cup semi-sweet chocolate chips
    • Vegan cool-whip for decoration (optional – available at Sprouts f.e.)

Preparation:

Heat the oven to 350F and bake the crust for 10 minutes, let cool.

In a medium-sized saucepan, whisk all the dry ingredients together. Add the milk and whisk until there are no little lumps. Turn on the heat to medium, whisk constantly until the mixture starts to boil. Turn heat to low and keep cooking for 2 minutes, stirring constantly. Add the cocoanut butter, stir until melted, then add the chocolate chips. Turn the heat off while the chocolate chips melt, keep stirring.

Pour into the crust. Cover with a piece of seran wrap to prevent a skin from forming, try to avoid air bubbles. Let it cool a bit and then move to the refrigerator and let set for at least three hours.

If you have a piping bag, fill it with some vegan cool-whip and pipe some rosettes around the edges of your pie. I don’t have one, so I just used a plastic bag, cut one corner off, and squeezed some dollops out.