Eating

My love affair with mangoes goes way back to summers spent in Mexico. Late afternoons on the plaza, after the rain had doused everything, fidgeting with anticipation as the mango man peeled me a big ripe one with his blackened steel knife, pierced it with a stick, then drenched it with lime and sprinkled on salt and earthy red chile. Sweet, slick, soft almost to the point of slimy and oh, so juicy. These flavors reach back inside me and conjure up memories of bustling markets, the smell of burning leaves, the delight of a pirulí—that brilliant red elongated pyramid of a lollipop that I twirled and twirled in my mouth. Ah, childhood. Every year at this time I can get it back for a moment when I eat my first mango of the season.
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Life is so short. And every year it seems to slip by more quickly, doesn't it? So I try to focus mostly on doing what I want, being with those I love and feeling as good as possible. This doesn't mean I don't have the occasional hissy-fit or melt-down, but I've worked hard to create a life that keeps those to a minimum. Recently, I read an article that ran in New York magazine about the popularity of Xanax and how anti-anxiety drugs are so commonplace and essential in these fraught, post-911 times. We're all deeply aware that the economy has collapsed, the environment is not far behind and terrorists could strike any time, any place. As the article, written by Lisa Miller, says, "The crises people face in these early months of 2012 are individual and circumstantial, yes, but they’re global and abstract as well, stemming largely from the haunting awareness (it’s certainly haunting me) that the fates of everyone in the world are intertwined and the job of protecting civilization from assorted inevitable disasters seems to have fallen to no one." But I'm wondering: is the world really any scarier than when we were afraid of "The Bomb," or of AIDS, or of polio, for that matter? How did people get through the Great Depression without Ativan? And why is everyone now so sure that relief lies in taking a pill?
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I was hell-bent on eating poi during my Hawaiian vacation. You know me, always determined to have that authentic experience. Guess what? No luck. The restaurant scene on the Big Island is kind of bleak. The place voted the island's best was resoundingly mediocre. Lilikoi (that's passionfruit) is ubiquitous, except it wasn't in season and overly-sweetened concentrate was being used for everything from cocktails to custards. Just not the same. And why not serve the amazing guavas, mangoes and strawberries that were colossally fresh and delicious? Well, because many Hawaiians, like their fellow mainlanders, have let go of much of their traditional, locally grown food and now rely on processed crap. Poi, a starchy paste made from fermented taro (or sometimes breadfruit), and traditionally eaten with fish was not on any restaurant menu. I didn't see it at any of the markets we visited, either. Foiled! We ended up cooking at home quite a bit since our rentals were equipped with pretty good kitchens and we ate well, mostly thanks to the beautiful farmers market in Hilo.
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Home again, home again. As much as I love to travel, sometimes I think coming home is the best part. Especially when the transition from balmy Hawaii to balmy New York is so smooth. (Minus the jet lag, of course.) Our trip to the Big Island was extraordinary, and I plan to tell you all about it, but I hit the ground running and have not yet had a chance to sort through all the photos, much less my thoughts. So that's for next week. For now, a few glimpses of spring's first signs—it's arrived fast and furious in these parts—and links to some of my latest discoveries. I'm chomping at the bit to start foraging and have a long list of wild edibles I'm determined to find this season. By the way, I've missed you madly and realize all over again what a wonderful creative and social outlet this blog is for me.
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We leave for Hawaii on Sunday and I can't think of a time when I was more in need of a vacation. A long and unsatisfying winter (virtually no snow) has left me eager for outdoor adventure. The Big Island is full of volcanoes, caves, black sand beaches and pristine rain forest and I want to see it all! Millions of things to get done before I go, so today's post will be a short one. I've been wanting to tell you about this great way to use up shrimp shells. I always buy whole shrimp, wild-caught and not previously frozen if possible, and I save the shells in a bag in the freezer. Sometimes I use them to make a quick stock for seafood stews and sauces, but the other day I had so many that I was able to make an incredibly rich and flavorful soup from just the shells plus some vegetables and aromatics. My riff on stone soup.
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I've been feasting on blood oranges lately, ever since I ordered 20 pounds of gorgeous Taroccos from here. Many consider this small, thin-skinned variety the best because of its beautifully balanced sweetness and copious juice. It is seedless and incredibly high in vitamin C, with a gorgeous burgundy interior that develops its color when temperatures drop at night. That's why winter is the time for this fruit, so take advantage now. It's among the season's finest treats. Wondering what our little family of two was doing with 20 pounds? Read on.
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Last week's visit to my nutritionist was extremely edifying. Sally is such a font of wisdom and information, I always come away feeling energized, newly motivated and armed with a plan. I brought a food log that chronicled every morsel I had ingested for the week prior and we discussed my ongoing uphill battle with my weight, as well as with a general malaise that I could describe only as "a loss of faith." Sally advised me on food, supplements, exercise and meditation, and then she practiced iridology. This is similar to reflexology, in which the feet are held to contain a blueprint of the body, except for the blueprint is in the irises. It's truly amazing what can be discerned through this ancient practice. Sally also uses kinesiology to gauge food sensitivities and supplement doses. If you have no idea what I am talking about or think this all sounds nuts, I recommend you check out Sally's book, Vibrant Living, and her series of DVDs, which fully explain her holistic approach to health and wellness.
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I awoke very early this morning to a melodious cacophony right outside the bedroom window: scores of red-winged blackbirds! They migrate back at this time of year, arriving as spring's heralds, their brilliant flashes of scarlet so striking against the recent snowfall. It was the perfect cap to an overflowing week that included a trip to the city and another to the Berkshires. Lots of driving, but the white wintry landscape was poetic after so many drab grey weeks. I got infusions of culture and nature in equal measure, including deeply satisfying snuggles with a few newborn lambs. What could be better?
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Not a lot of cookies get baked in this house. What with the chubbiness issue and the gluten factor, desserts, at this point, when they're even offered, tend to run more towards that chia pudding, a refreshing scoop of sorbet, some gussied-up tofu or simply a piece of seasonal fruit. Occasionally, however, the imminent arrival of company or some other deserving event does give rise to a batch. A good gluten-free cookie is almost as elusive as a good man. For a time, our cookie jones was sated by Whole Foods' house brand, which included a chewy ginger-molasses, a rich and crumbly peanut butter and the highly coveted nutmeal-raisin, but for some reason these disappeared from their shelves never to return. The (faux-helpful) staff tried to gaslight me when I asked about them, acting as though these divine confections had never existed. I vowed to G that I would try my hand at my own version of the nutmeal cookie, but so far I have not been true to my word.
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I have an appointment with my nutritionist this week and in preparation have been keeping a food log. It's made me more aware than usual of precisely what I eat and, though I want to present a realistic scenario, I've been on good behavior (most of the time). We had friends over for dinner this weekend and things got a little out of hand, yet still I wanted a treat while watching the Oscars last night. Something creamy and rich but without dairy or eggs, something to lick leisurely off my spoon as I cackled to G about this one's dress and that one's cosmetic enhancements. Hollywood on display is a golden opportunity for the ultimate bitch-fest and it requires either gin or ice cream. In the absence of both, try this delightful pudding made with chia seeds. Yes, those of Chia Pet fame. They are intriguingly delicious. It's a kinder and gentler alternative, though I was neither.
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