Inspiration.

What does it look like, especially today?

My granddaughter Eve picked flowers on our walk this weekend. We didn’t have a basket to collect them all in, so we used my hat. This was early in the walk. By the end, I was a bouquet. If you’re missing a jonquil, sorry.

I have had a hard time with inspiration lately. Inspiration to write, inspiration to bake, inspiration to get up and go out into the world. Many of us are in this state. For good reason. I’ve been contemplating starting a journal. Okay, actually, I started a journal and it didn’t go very far because, as usual, I got tired of listening to myself either whine, complain, or repeat my daily activities. That’s how my first novel got started—I was doing my “Morning Pages” and they felt more like “Mourning Pages” they were so gripey, so I decided to write from a character’s perspective instead of my own. And, voila, Ruby Kincaid of MoonPies & Movie Stars was born. She went on to bestseller status. I believe the magic comes from keeping the pen to the page and letting it take you where it may. These blog posts are that same method. I don’t want them to be a journal, but I want them to inspire others. Maybe show you that I don’t always have what it takes, but sometimes I do. And, when I do, I like to share.

“Fleuris Wheel” by Jill Badonsky. Amy Wallen Collection. In the description, Jill writes that flowers are planted in a ferris wheel “…and sometimes chickens sneak in.”

I haven’t been able to put fingertips to keyboard though. Yet, I haven’t forgotten about my Alphabet of Accountability. I haven’t forgotten about Accountability, even. I have been “worrying it” as my mother would say. Wondering what these posts should be. And sometimes, “worrying things” pays off. Maybe others call it “mulling.” Or “contemplating.” It felt like “worrying.” Mostly because I feel a combination of guilt (oh, I’m so good at feeling guilt, I’m a champion at guilt) for not posting, and sad that I had no good ideas (that’s where “butt in chair” should have been practiced, and there’s Guilt showing up again), and overwhelm with all that seems to in the air, on my plate, and hiding in the crevices (so many unknowns! I must keep scrolling! Gotta read to the end!)

—Oops, I had to leave for a moment because I thought of a great Facebook post. Great? Well, okay, it felt like it needed to be said. There. Not here. Here I like to reserve for inspiration. For getting things going. Keeping it moving. Here there is no complaining, which slows us down.

As I wrote this, I had a couple of ideas for future fun and inspiring posts. Voila, the fingers to keyboard magic showing up. Watch this blog for what those other things will be. But today, I have another plan. I was inspired by two other Substacks and I want to share both of those with you, and I want to share what I felt this morning was all I would be able to eke out.

First, Jill Badonsky’s Substack is awe-inspiring. She’s the creative muse of all muses. She’s quirky, fun, and silly. Silly is the best medicine right now. Jill offers all means of creative ingenuity from books to podcasts to workshops to just plain silly fun. Join her substack today, and be playful. The Muse is In. See Jill’s delightful illustration above, as it will surely bring a smile to your face. This is just a photo of the framed painting, so please excuse the reproduction quality. You can see it displayed in my house, if you want to see the original.

I sat down to send you all this link to provide the inspiration I don’t seem to be able to muster, and in my inbox was my pie guru’s Substack. She’s got an alphabet going as well, and you don’t have to a baker at all to join her substack and receive happiness from it. You can read about kindness and joviality, and best of all she posts a weekly cartoon. Let’s have some fun and giggles, folks. The Art of the Pie. Like I said, you don’t even have to like eating pie to enjoy Kate’s thoughts. It’s pie for the heart and mind.

And, I would like to add that those of us that write for a living don’t make much of a living, and even $5 helps us tremendously, if you want to give a little or a lot. I hope you’ll choose Paid Subscription for any or all of these, including mine. And, or, please tap on the little heart to show that you liked the posts. That is a big help too. Being popular is a thing now. Not just in high school.

You can’t read it, but the label on the slice of pie in the case reads, “Pie by Amy.” Jill made this piece of art for me. Or, at least I assume it was for me. It hangs in my kitchen right above where I roll out my pie dough. Another friend brought me the pincushion flower. The world turns because people do things for each other.

But, as we approach the end of this blog, I want to share what I came to post today. Jill inspired me with her comments on using her art to keep her sane. I wrote a whole book about pie baking being my salve. So, here’s the recipe for the pie I’m going to bake for this weekend’s dinner. It’s definitely savory pie season for at least another week. Salmon & portobello in a sour cream crust. If you make it, please let me know. I’d love to hear how it goes for you.

Do at least one thing that makes you happy today, even if it’s just remember your favorite Gary Larson cartoon, or to kiss your dog on the lips. You never know where you’ll find inspiration.

[Salmon & Portobello Pie]

This recipe can be found in my most recent book, How to Write a Novel in 20 Pies: Sweet and Savory Secrets for Surviving the Writing Life. If you are so inclined, you can click on the link buy the book from my local bookstore, and you’ll have all the recipes and secrets, along with over 200 funny illustrations by Emil Wilson.

Instructions:

Prepare Sour Cream Pastry Recipe. Refrigerate for at least one hour.

Pie filling:

Ingredients

1 lb poached salmon (poach in a the miso ginger broth from TJs for extra tasty)

½ lb hot smoked salmon

4 tablespoons butter

4 tablespoons flour

1 lb baby portobellos, sliced

Vegetable or your choice: artichoke hearts (quartered), frozen or fresh peas (one cup), spinach or swiss chard (1 lb, sautéed with mushrooms)

4 garlic cloves minced

1 ¾ chicken broth or vegetable stock

¼ half and half or milk

1 teaspoon salt, additional to taste

3 teaspoons dried tarragon leaves

1 teaspoon Dijon-style mustard

3 tablespoons sherry

To Assemble Pie:

Melt 1 tablespoon of butter in heavy, non-stick deep skillet over medium heat. Saute sliced portobellos in butter until mushrooms lose their water, about 10 minutes, add garlic and continue to sauté until garlic is fragrant, about 2 minutes. Once mushrooms have released their liquid, shift to a separate dish and reserve.

In same pan add the remaining 3 tablespoons of butter. Stir over medium heat until melted. Stir in flour one tablespoon at a time, and cook slowly, stirring. This is the roux.

Let the flour flavor cook out, about 2 minutes. Slowly stir in the broth and light cream or milk. Then add seasonings to your desired taste: additional salt (remember the smoked salmon will be salty so be wary of adding too much or any more at all), tarragon, mustard, and sherry. Add additional broth as necessary to reach desired consistency of sauce for pie. I like a medium thickness that isn’t too runny when I cut into the pie, but not so thick that it stands up on its own like pudding. Somewhere in between. Adding the sherry helps to thin the consistency too, but too much sherry can make the flavors bitter. But taste as you go! That’s what spoons are for. Continue stirring over medium heat until the sauce is how you like it. Turn the burner to its lowest setting to keep the sauce warm, and occasionally stir, while you work on the rest of the pie.

Roll out the bottom crust to the desired size of the pan. This recipe makes one 10-inch pan or 3 5-inch individual pans, or 5 3-inch pans double crusts. It’s pretty rich so consider the smaller pies to serve yourself, or the one big pie to serve your friends.

On the bottom of the bottom pastry lay out the smoked and poached salmon broken into 1-inch pieces. Spread the mushroom mixture on top of the salmon. Vegetable of your choice on the next layer. Spoon the sauce over the ingredients.

Roll out and place the top crust on the pie. Crimp edges decoratively or mash with a fork. Bake at 425 degrees for 35-40 minutes, or the crust is golden brown and a knife jabbed in the center comes out steaming hot.

Invite friends over to laugh and give hugs.