Bouncing Bologna

Carefully Tom selects not-too-firm kiwi. He places them gently into a plastic bag, gives it a mild spin, and sets it in the hard, cold shopping cart. Same thoughtfulness with the bananas, the apples, the broccoli, the garlic, potatoes, and strawberries.

The egg carton is opened for inspection - twelve orbs, unbroken. Perfect.

Dates checked on dairy products.

Stooping for a closer look we study fresh, free-range meat behind the butcher's window selecting the choicest cuts. The kind butcher neatly wraps them and hands them over the display case with a smile.

Labels on oils are studied, cheeses sampled, even the chocolate is examined for rogue ingredients.

This is shopping for Tom and me at the farmers' market and our favorite specialty stores.

Then, to Winco we go. The big grocery store where we buy staples and household supplies is Saturday-crowded. Ridiculously over-sized shopping carts block aisles as people check lists, scold fussy children, plop bags of sugared cereals into carts already heaped with processed foods. Stunned was I to see a package of cheap bologna flung across my path from the refrigerated lunchmeat section to a cart where it literally bounced a couple of times before it quieted. The shopper crossed it from her list. Her husband, leaning on the cart, began to move again, her child continued spastically jumping, white sucker-stick protruding from red-sugared lips.


Sure, there were other conscientious shoppers in the market places, people better at selecting foods than Tom and I. Those people inspire and encourage.

It dawned on me right about the time I saw the bologna bouncing that treatment of groceries reflects general attitude toward food. This dawning was affirmed at the checkout stand where I appreciatively bagged my groceries in my reusable bags (I actually remembered to carry a few in with me!). I stood across from a woman who seemed a bit furious at her food. She was throwing her items into white, plastic, bags. No exaggeration. Not setting them hard, not dropping them, but throwing them. Processed foods, vegetables, everything. She snatched her bags and walked wearily from the store.

I felt sad for her. Something was not right and I wished I could make her feel better. A kind, understanding smile awaited her if only she'd look up. Life is sometimes really hard. This I know.

Refined, overly-processed foods as the bulk of a diet can cause aggression, this has been proven. Beautiful, natural foods calm, invigorate, encourage robust health. Proven. Naturally I wondered if my fellow-shopper's irritation could have been food-induced.

I used to be a bologna bouncer, I did. I didn't enjoy cooking or food as much as I do now that I treat my food with joyful hands. My perspective is completely different these days. It's reflected in the recipes I prepare, my shopping list, and even where and how I shop.

It sounds snooty, I know, to talk of specialty stores, of reusable bags, and the shock of bouncing lunch meat. But it's not really snobbishness, it's a newfound humility. I have harmed my body, I have mistreated God's creation in my shopping choices, and I've addicted my children to sugar. Thankfully, the kids are wise and keep their addiction in check - most of the time.

Would that all the world could eat well for awhile and come to know the difference. It's not currently possible, this I realize. But is is possible for me and mine. We eat with gratitude. We think of those less fortunate and pray for them. We allow their trials to temper our Western food-misuse and misunderstanding of the purpose of food. We learn from their quiet struggle, from their genuine appreciation for every meal that they are able to put before their loved ones. While they wrestle with too little we wrestle with too much. There must be a balance in effect. Perhaps someday we will all have enough beautiful, real food and we'll look back on these days with thankfulness for lessons learned.

Until then, I will continue my quest to educate through example the joy of eating real food while remembering gratitude for these good years.

Gwyneth and Me

When I find my creative juices drying up I click on over to Goop.com, Gwyneth Paltrow's website. I love her ideas, her freshness, energy, and spunk.

I just finished a seven minute video of Gwyneth preparing a lovely Roasted Chicken and Potatoes dinner for her family.

I particularly love how she describes the relaxation she finds in thinking about food and ingredients. That's me, too. My daughter, Cassie, is the same way. Lying in bed at night dreaming up new dishes with ingredients we've just met or have befriended years ago.

I hope you'll take the time to head over to Gwyneth's sight. It has something for everyone as it's not just about food but about living.

Ciao!

From the Quieter Place

In cooking sometimes too much technical training can get in the way. Too often we cook with our heads. There's too much noise in our heads. We must learn to cook - and live - from the quieter place, the place deep inside.

Each food prepared is a gift to our guests. The food becomes a part of them. It contains our spirit, in a way, and that's why we must see the meals we make as expressions of pure love. Gifts from the heart.

The Italians say, "You never age at the dinner table. When it comes to food, nothing is rushed."

Tradition in Italy is to stop for the mid-day meal, to light candles, play sweet music, to joyfully prepare, serve, and enjoy good foods and beverages together with loved ones and friends. This stopping of life's busyness for food clearly demonstrates priority of health, joy, relationship.

Imagine if we, in the United States, adopted that perspective? How much more enjoyable would our jobs be whether we work in our homes or are employed elsewhere. To rest, to share, to eat. To then resume work with laughter and beautiful food in our bellies, kindness in our minds, joy on our lips.

To move this way, suddenly life is not lived only on or for the weekends. Every day is full of life! Each day an adventure, a recreation, an opportunity to show our love.

From the quieter place.

Such a Tart

Cassie made a Blackberry Tart using mascarpone which is an Italian cream cheese with very unique flavor, and Vino Santo (holy wine) a style of Italian dessert wine.


Using a brush every berry was drizzled with delicious sauce.


Mint leaves for garnish.


Upon the very first taste...


...my taste buds were born again!

Agave - 'Honey Water'

Agave nectar comes from the Blue Agave plant in Mexico. It's very similar to a cactus, but is called a Dragon Lily. While agave (pronounced ah-GAH-vay) is best recognized as the plant from which tequila is made, it has also been used for thousands of years as an ingredient in food. The nectar made from the plant is known in Mexico as aguamiel, or "honey water."

The Aztecs prized the agave as a gift from the gods and used the liquid from its core to flavor foods and drinks.

Agave nectar (sometimes called agave syrup) is most often produced from the Blue Agaves that thrive in the volcanic soils of Southern Mexico. Agaves are large, spikey plants that resemble cactus or yuccas in both form and habitat, but they are actually succulents similar to the familiar Aloe Vera.

If you have blood sugar issues, or want to avoid issues in the future or just want to live a healthier lifestyle agave nectar is a friend. Blue agave contains healthy bacteria in the form of inulins which are naturally occurring oligosaccharides that are healthy for your digestive system.

It's true that volcanic agave nectar contains close to the same calories per tablespoon as sugar (45) but because it is so sweet to your palate, you can use less. In fact, you can use about 1/3 cup of agave nectar to each cup of sugar thus reducing your caloric intake.

Because agave breaks down fats easier it improves the functioning of the gall bladder. It also helps remove the blockages in arteries associated with high cholesterol levels.

I use a swirl of this syrup on my homemade yogurt in the morning or evening. A colorful, long, shallow dish filled with yogurt drizzled with a long twist of agave (instead of the traditional honey) gives your guests the feel of Greece or Italy. Simple! This southwestern nectar is perfect on hot cereal and in tea. Sometimes a drop is squirted onto my fingertip for a taste of sweet when a sweet tooth complains. I also use it instead of brown sugar to sweeten my homemade granola before I bake it. I've used it in bread baking, replacing honey and molasses, and in other baked goods.

I love it! And it's good for me.

Agave. A beautiful food.

Pizza from the Heart

So many pizza commercials on television! The craving began. Though hungry and out running errands, still, my sanity prevailed. I knew the ingredients for a satisfying pizza pie were in my cupboards and fridge at home.

Cassie made a crust.

I simmered up fresh marinara, browned chicken with garlic, chopped some thin asparagus, and chunked some fresh, soft mozzarella cheese.

Caroline prepped a pan, preheated the oven, and helped assemble.

In less than 45 minutes, start to finish, we had a hot pizza and, man, was it good. MUCH better than any pizzeria in the vicinity.

Patience. Oh, so worth it.

Slow Succession - One Italian Woman's Breakfasting

Our countrymen could learn much from cultures far away. Such as how to eat. By this I mean what is eaten and how it is eaten.

My husband snarfs. He dishes his food up at the table as though he is the only one present. Then he eats quickly as though in a race, head down start to finish. Inadequate chewing then gulping. He says he thinks it's because when he was a kid - an only child - he had to hurry to get his share and then get out of there before the parents began to rag on him. Trouble is, he can't stop eating that way now.

Oh, he tries now and then. It's painful to watch. He sets down his fork, tries to chew more, to recognize flavors, enjoy the food. It's like observing a dog who's been told to sit and stay when he knows there's a chunk of sausage waiting to be devoured. Poor man nearly trembles. I give him kudos for trying, though. I have high hopes that he'll figure it out one day. In the meantime it's very hard for me to eat the way I prefer - slowly and mindfully - while he's noisily slurping, shoveling, and stuffing his cheeks in his race to the finish line.

An Italian blogger describes her breakfast manner in the following. It resonates with me.

I am not a breakfast person: when I get up, the first thing I crave is something hot and liquid, which translates into a cup of black tea, followed by another cup of black tea, followed, an hour or so later, by a cup of coffee made using my stovetop coffee maker. It is not until mid-morning that I turn my attention to something solid and that something has been, for more years than I can remember, una mela (an apple).

Una mela al giorno leva il medico di torno (an apple a day keeps the doctor away), you may remind me. The reason for my breakfast choice, however, is really my lifelong love for apples. It is certainly a great bonus that apples are good for my health. What has changed in the years is my favorite kind: that spot has been occupied for some time by the Mutsu apple. This time of the year it is not available in the stores, so I am currently breakfasting mostly with a Pinova apple and sometimes with a Golden Delicious. Just yesterday, I purchased some Ambrosia apples but have not yet tasted one.

So, here is the recipe for my apple-based breakfast. Take an organic apple of your liking and wash it carefully. Bite into it and savor the juicy morsel in your mouth. Chew slowly and concentrate on the texture and flavor. Repeat until you are left with just the core. Place it in your compost bin. Wait a few minutes, enjoying the apple's aftertaste, then cut yourself a small piece of excellent quality extra dark chocolate (at least 70% cocoa content) and break it into 2-3 morsels. Eat them in slow succession, savoring each one by letting it melt slowly in your mouth. Feel good.

 Above excerpt taken from the blog Briciole


Imagine if everyone could eat just one meal a day with such ease, patience, attention, and enjoyment.

The world would surely become a kinder place.