Lessons Learned

I had a small set back today. I know that in the grand scheme of things that this moment will become small and benign but for now it's throbbing tumor on my pride.

A look into Adzuki beans

My energy tank is on empty. It feels like my body is fighting something, that could have something to do with my massive Sunburn from Sunday. I have adzuki beans and chickpeas cooking on my stovetop. I couldn't find an Adzuki bean recipe that really looked very good but I'm planning on experimenting with some of the flavors from the bag of rice and Adzuki bean chips from Boulder Canyon chips I picked up at Costco the other day. They are a wonderful snack if you haven't tried them you really should. They have a chipotle and cheese flavor to them. I plan to incorporate a sort of chipotle and chili powder flavor. My chickpeas are for hummus. We are going camping this weekend and I think hummus will be a perfect camp meal. Man skills (my new name for my significant other) seems to be extremely excited about camping. He managed to drag every piece of camping equipment out all over our apartment and I spent the better part of the morning trying to find my floor again.

I have a boat load of cherries which are really great right out of the bowl. I have been reading other blogs with an intention of finding something else to do with them. My CSA newsletter came with a recipe for cherry ice cream that looks really intriguing. I have come across two problems with this. 1.) I don't have an ice cream maker. 2.) I can't figure out how to efficiently get the pits out of my cherries. I tried the paper clip method and I ended up having to cut all of the cherries in half like I would a peach. Now I'm not sure the undersides of my fingernails will ever be a normal color again.

These are a few of my favorite things

Art is an egotistical form of expression. At least I feel like it is for me. My Puritan roots create such a conflict of interest between me and my art. This is probably why I have both stopped writing and taking photographs. For me, my art is not complete with out the admiration of an audience and an audience has the power to break me down. I haven't been feeling very strong nor very confident and the thought of putting myself in the windfall of criticism is a daunting challenge that I not sure I'm really up to.

Creating art with food, however, has become my passion. I can grasp the hull of my knife and create the maximum meditation as I dice through an onion or whisk through a sauce or taste the fruits of my labor and creativity. I can close my eyes and drink in the smell, allowing the taste to devour my tongue, tingling the appropriate taste buds until it reaches the final destination. I can pour over cookbooks and cooking resources and newsletters and websites. I can negate my very existence to choosing the perfect ingredients and carefully planning my menu delegating old standbys to work in between exciting opportunities of decadence virgin and unpracticed.

Endorphins are released at the thought of a trip to the bulk bin aisle of my organic grocer. My CSA box arrives at my door and I can hardly wait to get out of bed and lay the contents on my counter. For me, Christmas comes every other Tuesday and really, I can't think of a Christmas that can compare with my CSA boxes.

My politics rest on fresh and local and I follow the teachings of the venerable Michael Pollan, resting on his every word and secretly longing for more intuition and at the least, the ability to apply what he knows to my life.


Outside of my kitchen the only thing that comes close to making me as happy is my garden. Small and potted my array of fruit, vegetables and herbs is the most beautiful garden I think I could have created in my outdoor space.