Ok…  one train photo.

This one took a bit of photoshopping, as I really didn’t want to lose the sky while brightening the foreground.

This was right across the street…

And, one of Amanda…

We have an excellent vantage point for these types of things. This is the second time since we moved here (not quite three years ago) that we’ve seen one of these. Hey – if our summer is going to be all rain, it may as well have some rainbows to go along with them!

(Original post)

Over the next couple of days, I’d like to discuss our collective reasons for staying, our reasons for leaving, and ask you to help me define the “Buffalo Experience” and tell me why it is that you stay.

For me, staying was almost an accident. While in college I frequently warned my parents that there weren’t any jobs here and that I wouldn’t be back. When I started interviewing for jobs, only one of them was for a position in Buffalo. After a few rejections from other companies, the Buffalo job was the first offer to come in and I jumped on it, even cancelling a few interviews to come after it.

One of the enticing things about the job I took was that it offered an immediate 0pportunity to move to Boston for 9 months, which was fine with me. It was a great experience and Boston is a fantastic city, but I realized that I didn’t like city living. Looking long term, I would never have been able to afford the apartment that the company was paying for, so I would have been relegated to either a tiny apartment in the city, or someplace out in the burbs which would mean a few hours of lost commuting time each day. Second, it never really felt like I had my own space. Apartment – rented. Transportation? Subway or walking was always crowded with other people. Greenspace? Sure, for you and everyone else to share.

The realization that I liked living in Buffalo happened when I moved back home, walked into my parent’s back yard, looked up at the changing trees and fall sky and let out a big sigh. I could feel the speed of life dial crank down a few notches. It wasn’t even something I noticed while living the fast paced city life, but being out of it changed my perspective.

This is a far better place to buy a house, settle down with a family, and actually enjoy life. I have a job that lets me travel around the world, a place to call my own, and control over the speed of my life. Am I missing opportunities afforded by bigger cities? I don’t think so. Opportunities are made by the individual, not by the place they live in.

You may be familiar with leeks that you find at the grocery store, but wild leeks are a bit different. For starters, they’re much smaller. They’re similar to a scallion onion in size, but more leafy, with a taste that’s a cross between onion and garlic. Wild leeks are also called “ramps” in certain areas of the country, and they grow in most of the eastern states and into Canada. Turns out that there are a few areas in the southern tier where you can simply pull off the side of the road and go dig yourself up some.

My father-in-law has been hunting leeks since he was a kid (as has Amanda), so a couple years ago I got to tag along as well. Returning from a successful leek hunt results in the mythical “wild leek pork roast” so the stakes are high. The process, which we repeated last weekend, first involves driving to the secret location. Leeks are only readily visible early in spring, where they pop out of the ground about the same time the daffodils do. Last weekend was perfect weather and the right time of the year to spot the buggers, so off we went. After arriving at the secret location, the half an hour of hunting resulted in unearthing nothing more than a large rock with a bunch of fossils embedded in it [which I took]. Disappointed, we hopped back in the car and decided to drive down to the end of the road, when what to our wondering eyes did appear, but the real secret leek location. It was so secret, we forgot where we left it from last time. Off with shovels and buckets we went. Now around here the leeks like to grow on the sides of hills like these:

Maybe this is why they’re also called ramps. Anyways, they’re relatively easy to spot based on their leaf and stalk, and the fact that when you pick one the oniony smell is a dead giveaway. If there are enough in a certain area, the air may even smell of them. In fact, the name “Chicago” comes from one of a few Native American phrases for “wild onions” or “striped skunk,” likely because they covered the region at the time. After 45 minutes or so, we climbed back down the hill with our buckets full.

Once home, I separated the leeks out into clusters with good roots and ones that I had plucked individually. The loners got hosed down and went off to the kitchen. The remaining ones got replanted in our new yard, where hopefully they’ll take and spread next year.

We’ve only ever made one thing with the wild leeks, and it’s a ridiculously simple dish – wild leek pork roast. Prep the leeks by thoroughly washing them and cutting off the roots. Everything else can stay, from the bulb to the leaf. Then, simply take a pork roast, put it in a small roaster with a little bit of water, salt and pepper, and jam as many leeks in there as will fit. Toss it in the oven as per the directions for the roast (or the guidance of your meat thermometer) and enjoy the savory aroma that will soon fill your house. The roast will then fill your tummy.

I’ve never seen wild leeks sold in any produce sections, and that’s what makes this meal so special. It’s one part adventure, one part culinary experiment, with a dash of hunter/gatherer thrown in. It’s worth it to make something once in awhile that’s a bit more unique than what you could just throw together from the grocery store.

(click for full size view)

Here’s the Eclipse, nearly full.

The WRX transforms into a snow plow as necessary.

Still on my to-do list is to get a couple of garage door openers, replace a handful of light fixtures, and start to plan out my home automation system so I know what to put on my Christmas list. Oh, and finish unpacking boxes. There are still plenty of those left. I’d like to get both sides of the garage usable before the real snow hits.

Speaking of snow, we were certainly a bit anxious to see how the first lake effect of the year would affect us here up in the Holland hills. When we left for work yesterday morning, there was about 1″ on the ground already. We drove through about three different weather patterns on the way to work, but ultimately we only ended up with about 3″ leftover by the time we got home. The roads around our house weren’t all plowed yet, so we got to test out the all wheel drive goodness of the WRX. Snow tires for the Jetta arrived today for the times we need to use both cars in snowy weather.

The new house has been treating us well, and we’re both enjoying rural life. The quiet, the stars on a clear night, and the sunrises in the morning are all fantastic. Even the longer ride to work hasn’t been bad. No regrets so far!

The move went extremely smoothly, due to the fantastic group of family and friends that came out to help us, some for the second time in a month. Mom & Dad K, Mom & Dad P, Nate, Chris, Alison, Lauren, Ron, John, and Jonathan – thank you all so much. We could not have done it without all your help. We owe my in-laws a special thank you for putting us up for the month we were homeless, and for everything you did for us while we were there. It certainly made the transition much easier than it would have been otherwise.

It’s boxes as far as the eye can see for now, but I’m sure I’ll have all sorts of new anecdotal tales from the country and from our second home. So long, for now, from the eastern edge of Erie County.