Alphabet food and faux Korean

For a while I was focused on external food. And by external I mean what delicious looking thing someone put on my plate. It was all about restaurants…mostly upscale but not exclusively. Really I’m a slave to my taste buds with marginal attention to my wallet. But mostly taste. Taste and company if I’m eating out.

Cuy- otherwise known as guinea pig (delicious!)

My recent trip to Peru seems to have cured me of that. Not that I’ll look a good meal that I didn’t have to cook in the…pan? (ok, so the metaphor fell apart but you get my drift) But I ate out in Peru…a lot. And while I had some amazing food…alpaca, chicken in banana leaves with olives and rice, guinea pig…I came home craving vegetables.

For about a week I took a short vacation in the land of veganism. It wasn’t a permanent move or even a long-term journey (not to mention, one or two times I simply forgot and picked up something with cheese or meat and munched thoughtfully…habits are hard to break) but my body was asking me for something simple and I tried to oblige. And so I made mushroom balls, and quinoa with chimichurri sauce. I ate a lot of beans and I stayed away from cheese and butter. 

And when it was all over I didn’t go screaming for steak, instead I added dairy first; and I was reminded that veganism will never be me. 

Even a few weeks out, I’m easy on the meat. Like Raven Simone, I don’t want to be labeled- at least not for the foods I eat…or don’t. These days I’m trying to listen to my body more. Returned from three weeks at high altitude with my dad, and cooking has become a focus.

A few weeks ago I joined a Community Supported Agriculture (CSA). Back in 2008 I had one, but then I wasn’t so interested in cooking and so the food would sit judgmentally (oh how vegetables mock)in my refrigerator, taunting me every time I opened the door to retrieve some small snack that was not a bundle of beets or a misshapen squash.

This time I find myself gleeful in my anticipation of what the week will bring me. Last week’s haul, a little small, forced me to get creative with my, including for the first time ever- turnips. It was something different than I’d usually do but that isn’t a bad thing. And even though I’ve learned that turnips aren’t my favorite – the fresh basil that was also part of my box made amazing pesto with the simple addition of cashews, garlic, olive oil, and a small whirl in my blender. 

Peruvian ceviche that I made.

Part of my push to cook stems from actually buying kitchen appliances. For years I’ve maintained my nomadic sensibilities and thwarted the acquisition of stuff. Oh the contemplation and struggle over the purchase of a cutting board. “I can use a plate,” I argued. But eventually I purchased one and I left it at that. 

This move to the Bay has inspired me to buy a crockpot, blender, and food processor. I have an intense need to justify (to myself) their purchase through their continued and constant use…otherwise what is the point? And so I made my mushroom balls in the food processor and my sauces in the blender…and with the weather cooling down, there’ll be food in the crockpot wafting savory scents down the hall to greet me when I arrive home.

But for tonight…tonight I tried out a recipe Cahiso sent me. It reminded me of bimbimbap sans the crunch of browned rice on the bottom. This recipe called for a mixture of brown rice and quinoa as a base. Layer that with cooked kale (it called for steamed but I quickly stir-fried it with onion and garlic) and sprinkled with a ginger and sesame dressing. The whole thing was finished off with avocado, boiled egg, and kimchee…and a few other odds and ends for taste and flourish.

I was exhausted when I finished but it was healthy and filling and satisfyingly different from my usual cooking fare. And really, that is what the CSA does for me, it forces me to move beyond kale (ok, maybe not in this particular meal but still…) in the best possible way. 

This week’s homage to beets should be interesting, a challenge to my skills and creativity…I’ll keep you posted on what they become.