Taina-chi

Sweet & Sour Veggies

2010-03-28T11:13:00.000-07:00

Something like this: (not yet tested!)

1 yellow or white onion, sliced
2 small sweet potatoes, cut into thin half-circles
3 cloves garlic, minced
1 cup baby button mushrooms
14 oz. shitake mushrooms
1/2 cup broccoli
1 small container (about 1/2 cup) water chestnuts
1/4 cup cashews
oil for sauteeing
rice
cilantro or orange for garnish

1. In a large pan or wok, sautee sweet potatoes for 5 minutes to soften, stiring occasionally. Add onions and sautee another 5 minutes until soft and somewhat brown. Add garlic, cook a minute more, and then add mushrooms. Allow water to cook off, then add broccoli and cook just until bright green. Stir in cashews and water chestnuts.

2. Meanwhile, prepare the sauce:

3 T. soy sauce
2 T. sesame oil
3 T. orange marmalade
2-3 T. honey
1 T. lemon juice
1/2 t. chili with garlic sauce
1/4 t. salt
2 T. corn starch
1/4 cup water

Mix corn starch and water together in a small bowl, set aside.
Mix all remaining ingredients together in a sauce pan over low heat. Add corn starch mixture and turn up heat to a simmer, then reduce heat to low.

3. Stir sauce into vegetables and heat through. Serve with rice, garnished with cilantro or an orange slice.

Healing the Inner Child

2010-02-15T07:46:00.000-08:00

I had a hard time sleeping last night. I tossed and dreamed intermittently for hours. Mostly I layed awake with the heavy yet sharp, expansive consciousness that only exists late at night. Laying there, wide awake in the middle of the night, I can't help but think, "This must be the heart of darkness." I remember reading that book back in high school.. What was it about? Some Amazonian tribe of canibals, I think. Maybe I should read it again, pick apart the metaphor a bit....... There's a ball of anxiety in my chest. I watch it, allow it, breath with my darkness. Night-time can be a great time to meditate.

My mind drifts back to the beach. We'd driven out to have a ceremony at Crane Beach to celebrate and explore Lightness and Darkness. On the beach I'd felt a deep happiness to be sharing sacred space with friends. I had been anticipating the day for weeks, and I was nervous in a way you can only be about things you care deeply about. We set up a cloth on the ground, lit candles, and arranged flowers, sage, and rocks in the circle. When I encounter nature in solitude, I always feel in communion with God. This is very simple. I can find God anytime- outside my window, or on a walk, in the mountains or downtown. The experience of sharing this with others is relatively new, but something I've deeply yearned for. Usually time spent with people (in nature or otherwise) follows your usual social script of chatting and meeting goals and exclaiming "Oh, it's so beautiful!" at the appropriate moments (sunsets, vistas, gardens, etc.) Which is exactly what we need 90% of the time (don't check my stats). The remaining 10 or so percent of the time, I realize, I yearn for sacred space, a space which is specifically reserved for allowing for union with God, when the mystic in each of us steps forward. But this quality of experience so rarely extends to group encounters. Now I realize- the bridge is ceremony.

Together, with intention, we can honor nature, our own inner spirit and the great outer spirit. We can share our journey with others. With support, we can find strength, move toward our highest good, and touch deeper truths. At that beach, I spoke my truth to the best of my ability- I want to love fearlessly and meet challenges with courage. We five adults and one child all offered something in the form of ritual, prayer, song, or presence. I was grateful for my companions, deeply grateful for their wisdom and experience. I was proud of our determination in trekking to the beach in February. And I was freezing.

So, why this anxiety? I realize that I've found something about which I care deeply, and want to cultivate in my community and with friends. But I don't know how! And I don't know what I'm doing! And oh the evil triad of judgement-shame-anger (in the form of self-directed criticism)...These things which flatten the tires of my ride before I can even set out journeying. I criticize myself, I perceive criticism. From this place, my heart is clenched, doubting. It's that feeling that at the core I'm not good enough....

::I see myself as a six year old, clueless to the rules of kickball, standing there on base as my classmates run by me. What am I supposed to do? Maybe no one will notice me.. And I see my eight year old self unable to answer the math problems in front of the class to gain points for my team. And I see myself forgetting my lines in the third grade play and standing frozen in front of hundreds of pairs of eyes. And I hear my voice crack in my long-awaited church solo. Being in front of people, bearing my soul, is risky, I must have decided at some point. The evil triad convinces me I'm not a leader, not a person who can express myself with ease in front of others. Or maybe I wasn't, but could I be? Maybe I wasn't, but am I? In any case, seeing myself in a position of leadership (even just a perceived position of leadership) is triggering some old stuff. I want to move forward, but there's fear.::

I hear a bird chirping, a single bird singing its song at the frigid break of dawn. The song is brief, but full of beautiful, unapologetic determination. Each day the bird carries out its duty to fly, to sing, to nest, to feed, because that's what it was born to do. Is it possible that as a human being, I must first figure out what it is I'm born to do... then do it with unapologetic determination? With radical acceptance? With the ability to experience and live my flaws and not be shattered? I can only hope.. Maybe I'm just reaching the point where I can crack my shell and begin to stretch my wings.

Only through the cracks of my flaws can light flow in. If I can deeply accept these flaws just as they are, perhaps the darkest corners of my heart of darkness will see light.

To all the inner children

2010-02-10T10:43:00.001-08:00

As it comes around to Valentine's Day, I realize I'm not really into the bright red and pink plastic sentimentality of the holiday anymore. Not to bash it, it's a lovely holiday, celebrating love and all. I've just decided I can make my own meaning out of it.

In my supervision group today, we ended up talking about love and how in other cultures there are a number of words for "love". There certainly are a number of experiences associated with the single word! I know that, if you pay attention, and your heart is willing, you can feel a lot of love in a single day. Driving into work this morning, I saw my client on the corner, sipping his Dunkin Donuts coffee, probably somewhat anxiously enjoying the falling white snow flakes. And my heart fluttered with gentle affection.

Then as I was leaving work, a client inquired at the desk about when I'd be seeing her. We checked her appointment time and it was actually scheduled for tomorrow. By this time she had been waiting for close to two hours. I saw anger cross her face, and tears well in her eyes. In that moment, my heart ached for this woman, who in so many ways is just a child in an adult's body. She, and many clients, remind me that we all have an inner child to tend to who feels angry, sad, afraid and unsure at times.

I believe in many ways I have been trying to defend against coming to deeply care for my clients, maybe even for the people in my life. Real love is so inconvenient! When you love, you naturally put others' needs ahead of your own. Maybe something about this is terrifying, like if i surrender to love, my needs won't be met. And when you love, you will feel some pain.

Love and pain: Two sides of the same coin? The same currency at least. There's pain in loving people we lose or who are far away, pain in feeling that love is imperfect. There's pain in having to endure the struggles of those we love. But I guess I'm willing to risk it, for the sake of wholeness. To shut down the richness of this human experience seems a great tragedy. As I traverse the reaches of this conscious-emotional universe, I hope not to turn away from the dark moments, because these too contain love. But I will savor the moments of lightness. Maybe I'll take the cheesy candlelit dinner after all.

$30 Enlightenment

2010-01-04T15:51:00.000-08:00

Going to one of the holiest places in Burma after 40 hours of travel turned out to be pretty discombobulating. Shwedagon Pagoda is a feast for the senses, a buzzing spiritual carnival of sorts. Looming gold cones, finely detailed archways, and ancient, gnarled trees lend an air of enchantment. Innumerable Buddha statues flash with Las Vegas-style light-up halos. Spaces seem so open, the outdoor air mingling unabashedly with indoor air, walls serving to hold the roof more than to create a boundary. The tiled ground beneath my feet is cool, then warm. Children run past me, exuberant on a sacred full moon night. People chant, meditate, and splash water over themselves and the Buddha statues.

I find myself suddenly alone in the center of this dizzying scene, equally aware of my fatigue and my desire to really take in the experience. I already feel shaken because earlier I'd been asked to make a $20 "donation." "Five, right?" I'd asked, thinking it was the entrance fee. I later had to pay the actual $5 entrance fee. The twenty really was just a donation, going right into the pocket of the military dictatorship. The government spends millions of dollars re-covering the surfaces of the Pagoda with delicate gold leaf every few years, only to have the precious metal sheets wear away again and again. A streak of resentment shoots through me. "I need to be more careful," I think. "I need to watch out for people who are trying to take advantage of me." Watching this armored reaction of my mind, this cultured mistrust- or is it appropriate cautiousness?- I wander slowly through the grounds.

A monk approaches me and asks where I'm from. Small talk progresses and "Guru" walks me through the site, providing semi-comprehensible information about this tradition and that statue. I feel special: He chose to show me around! I feel wary: I do not like being in dark places with strange men. Feeling the need for a good, grounding sit, I suggest we stop to meditate. Guru shows me to a meditation "cave"- a tiny, linoleum-tiled room with a flashing Buddha at the back. I sit a bit awkwardly on the hard floor. I close my eyes, take a breath and feel the rush of my monkey-mind: "Do I get enlightenment points for meditating with a monk?- Wow those lights flashing behind my eyelids are tripping me out- How long has it been?- This is torture, I need to sleep." Deep breath, deep breath. My legs fall asleep. I meditate on suffering. On exhaustion. Something runs across my leg. "Don't open your eyes. Observing reaction, observing curiosity, breathing, breathing." I open my eyes. It's a cockroach, presumably also in a state of suffering. I close my eyes for an unbearably long stretch of time. I know it's been more than twenty minutes. I make some noise. Guru opens his eyes as I try to stand without falling over. "Donation?" he says. I hand over a five, too jet-lagged to really protest.

I'm so far from home, sleep deprived, out 30 bucks. I want to cry. Peter, a friend from the group, reminds me to "stay with it" and then let it go. You can only manage your own karma, not other people's, he reminds me. Ok, so what if I've been taken advantage of, I think. That's their problem to deal with more than mine.

Back in the hotel, I reflect on my first night in Burma. I have a lot to learn about generosity, about stinginess and what I feel is "mine." And about being a savvy traveler. This is an opportunity.

Little Peter

2010-01-04T10:39:00.000-08:00

I opened my eyes to the panoramic view of Mandalay- flatlands leading to hills rising up in the distance. It was nice to meditate in the midst of the late afternoon bustle of sunset seekers. A young girl approached me, selling a plastic sleeve of postcards. She wore a dress with cartoon bears and the words "Cookie Bear" splashed all over it. I was getting used to the experience of interacting with young Burmese vendors. I looked up and smiled at her, unperturbed. She sat down next to me and let the postcards drop into her lap. The usual friendly banter I used to disarm child-vendors was unnecessary. "Where are you from?" she asked. "The US," I told her.

Kittie Zan, as my group came to know her, told me about her five siblings and about losing her father last year. Kittie Zan's rich brown eyes shone and her smile spread easily across her face. She seemed to take great joy in speaking English and emitted a confidence and ease I rarely encounter in people. I bought some postcards.

Twenty four hours later, Kittie Zan is still with us. We've all fallen in love with her. After leaving Mandalay hill last night, she accompanied us to dinner. When she found out there were two Peters in the group, she began calling us all Peter. White Peter, in his white shirt, Black Peter in his black shirt, Smoking Peter, who quit smoking last week. Today, I'm still Yellow Peter, though I'm wearing all blue. She's our Little Peter, our translator and Bodhisattva. Her laughter lifts our hearts and her tiny hand- could she really be thirteen?- slips easily and tenderly into ours as we explore Mandalay. We've been teaching English at Phaung Daw Oo (Pan, like Spanish word for bread, DA, OO), the school Kittie Zan attends one day a week. We converse with students and teachers and provide tips on pronunciation. Yet, after meeting this young, brilliant, barely educated child, I can't help but wonder what it really means to be a great teacher.

Golden Rock Pilgrimage

2010-01-02T12:03:00.000-08:00

The driver gestured for the women, already jammed in like cattle, to make room for me in the back of the truck. My group had been holding things up, debating whether we should head up the mountain so late in the day. We would have to hike down at night. Our group leader's words rang in my mind: You're only dumb once. Seven of us decided If this is true, you oughta have the experience to find out for yourself. So there we were. I stepped into the truck bed and sat on the tiny, low bench amongst a group of women. They all turned to grin at me. "Mingalaba!" I said, to giggling and more grins. I've been told the greeting means "Auspiciousness to you." I came to love this word while in Burma. It never failed to elicit deep, connected smiles. Some of the women burst into conversation. I shook my head, not understanding. Even a simple phrase like "Where are you from?" in Burmese is incomprehensible to me.

The truck choked to life, finally ready to set out up the steep, winding mountain road. My companions, Spencer, Dyllan, Daniel, Eliot, Peter, Aaron, and I were heading for Golden Rock, one of the most sacred Buddhist sites in Burma, perhaps in the world. I realized that the Burmese people crammed in the back of this truck may be making this trip for the first time in their lives. I felt deeply honored to be part of their pilgrimage. My companions in the back of the truck continued to gaze at me, smiling and reaching out to shake my hand. The woman sitting in front of me held her daughter in her lap- a beautiful little girl, probably about five years old. "I want to give them my amber ring," I thought.

Just then, the truck stopped abruptly, pulling into a covered terminal. A government official stepped onto a platform and began giving instructions in Burmese. People handed him money, somewhat reluctantly. I reached for my money pouch but my new friends turned to me, discreetly shaking their heads No! Apparently this was a government donation point. As a foreigner, I could get by without paying, but they would surely feel obligated. We pulled back onto the road for the last part of the drive, the late afternoon sun mixing with brilliant leaf greens and sky blues.

As we neared the top of the mountain, the woman with the young daughter reached back and took my hand. She was admiring my ring. I wrapped my arms around her, pulled off the ring and handed it to her. She put it on her finger, smiling with gratitude, and I at her.

***

The bus stopped in a village near the top of the mountain. It would still be an hour's walk to the Golden Rock at the top. Along the way, vendors sold noodles and rice to snack on, betel nut- a stimulant commonly chewed in Burma- and millipedes and other insects for their oils. Women carrying baskets on their heads strolled easily up the hill. Men offered to carry passers-by to the top on sedan chairs. The seven of us walked on. As we approached the site of the rock, we could hear the sounds- loud chanting emitting from a loudspeaker, bells chiming. The sounds floated over hundreds of people, maybe thousands-I couldn't be sure. There were monks and nuns, families with small children running gleefully through the crowd, a few Westerners, and Buddhist pilgrims from all four directions.

The rock sat, precariously balanced on the edge of the cliff, a giant golden boulder glinting in the light of the setting sun. A single Buddha's hair, the story goes, is enshrined on the tall spindly stupa atop the Rock, lending supernatural powers. In any case, the air around the Rock is magical- filled with incense, chanting, and centuries of devotion. We took our time, wandering, taking it all in.

***

As darkess fell, the atmosphere around Golden Rock came even more to life. Fires burned, and the Rock shined brilliantly against the dark starry sky. The needle atop the rock seemed to channel cosmic life energy, like a giant antenna pointed at God. Only men were allowed to press tiny gold-leaf squares onto the rock and sit on the closest platform, but there were many women lighting candles and incense, running prayer beads through their fingers in deep concentration.

We circled up in preparation for the five hour walk ahead of us. The final bus down the mountain had already departed at 7. Most of the people visiting Golden Rock would stay in one of the villages nearby, or remain at the site to meditate and chant through the night. We selected Cassiopeia, the mountain-shaped constellation, and renamed one star Golden Rock, to guide us on our walk. I felt the profoundness of the moment, of the whole evening. We began the journey, chanting om namah gaia- a chant to mother earth. I glanced at the sky and saw a shooting star, and wished for a safe journey.

Going forward,

We were sheathed in something mystical.

***

Songs carry our group as we call upon ancestors to walk with us. Coming to a bridge, we reflect on what we could leave behind upon crossing. As I walk slowly across, I hear the voices behind me singing:

The river she is flowing, flowing and growing,

The river she is flowing, down to the sea.

The voices grow quieter until I can hear only my own voice. Walking on, I begin to hear my companions waiting on the other side of the bridge singing, as if the single droplet of my voice were joining again with the river.

Portuguese song: I am the shine of the sun/ I am the shine of the moon/ I give my light to the stars/ Because they all follow me/ I am the shine of the sea/ I live in the wind/ I shine in the forest/ Because it belongs to me.

Standing on the dark mountain path,

Night forest-sounds envelop us and

The moon rises over the mountains.

Singing: We are one with the infinite sun, forever and ever and ever. We are in tune with the cycles of the moon, for ever and ever and ever.

This is so out there, I think, so fabulously new-age-spiritual, cooky-koom ba ya and all that. And it feels so fucking good! I can't believe I'm walking through the forest, under the moonlight, in Burma, with people who will sing songs. So absolutely fantastic, I think.

We walk for a while in silence, mindfully, with intention, I savor the contact with the nature of night-time, such a different entity from day. I feel safe, at peace, purposeful, walking.

***

The night wore on; many miles tread, many conversations had, many songs sung. We faced new challenges. I sensed fatigue in my companions. Shadows suddenly look like who-knows-what-kind of Burmese animal, and What the fuck was that sound? I felt my inner strength, my position in this group, a mother, a warrior, a protector. I pulled out my stash of granola bars.

***

Just before we hit "civilization"- a few bamboo huts, some fires, - Spencer leads us in a chi-gong exercise, and I offer up vibrating, positive, loving energy to the universe. We pass a group heading the other direction, just beginning their journey up the mountain. They'll be at the top by sunrise. We greet them warmly. Walking, we sing a final song, "Around the edge I am traveling, in a circle we are traveling."

Around the edge I am traveling, in a circle we are traveling. I am traveling through this universe with no guide but my heart, sometimes with no idea where I'm going, and no map but an insight here and there. Yet i have companions, some who will even sing songs. I exist within this incredible mystery unfolding every day. This circle I travel is an eternal circle and I walk the infinite line, balancing as best I can.

There are some people playing the guitar, singing by the side of the road. "Mingalaba!" we call, and they call back, "Hello!"

Back in the hotel I climb into the bathtub to soak my tired, sore body, my spirit soaring high.

Cool Cucumber Salad

2009-10-10T20:29:00.000-07:00

This post comes late, I know, as Fall is already well underway and here I am sorting through summer recipes! Well here it is anyway. Super simple, quick and easy- and tasty!

2 cucumbers, thinly sliced

for dressing:

2-3 T. sugar

1/4 c. rice vinegar

1 T. red wine vinegar

2 T. water

1 T. sesame oil

1/2 t. salt, or more to taste

2 T. chopped fresh dill

2 t. sesame seeds

1. Mix together all ingredients for the dressing except sesame seeds. Stir well so the sugar dissolves completely. Pour over cucumbers and stir well.

2. Refrigerate for at least an hour to allow the cucumbers to soak in the flavor, stirring a couple of times. Sprinkle on the sesame seeds and serve. Tastes even better over time as the cucs sit in the dressing.

I think that's it... Feel free to test it and let me know if it tastes good because I'm writing this recipe, trying to remember back to the summer days when i made it....

Jed and Taina's Macaroni Casserole

2009-10-10T12:30:00.000-07:00

1 box penne pasta, cooked al dente

1 tomato, chopped

1 summer squash, sliced into half moons

1 small onion, sliced

3 green onions, sliced

4 cloves garlic, minced

variety of cheeses, I particularly like smoked mozzarella

cream sauce- You're on your own here, this is Jed's part of the casserole. Try stirring some combination of milk, butter, cheese, and a bit of flour over low heat.

salt and pepper

1. Sautee the onion in oil until tender and browned, add squash, green onions, and garlic and cook a minute more.

2. Add tomatoes to veggie sautee. Stir and season with salt, pepper, and italian herbs.

3. Stir together veggies, sauce, and pasta. Pour into a glass pan and top with parmesan and any other cheeses you like.

4. Bake at 350 for 30-40 minutes. Brown top under broiler.

Hummus

2009-10-10T12:21:00.000-07:00

1 can chickpeas, drained with liquid reserved

3-5 T. lemon juice

1/4 cup good olive oil

1 clove garlic, sauteed

2-3 T. sesame tahini

salt, pepper

Blend all ingredients together in a food processor. Taste and adjust lemon, salt, tahini. To attain desired texture, add more olive oil or reserved liquid. You can add spices, or things like roasted red peppers to this basic recipe.

Drizzle some more olive oil on top and serve with crackers, toasted pita, or veggies.

Healthy Bowl

2009-10-10T12:02:00.000-07:00

To make two servings...

toss together:

1 bunch steamed kale, coarsely chopped

1 carrot, shredded

1/2 cucumber, sliced

1/2 cup chopped herbs, any variety

1 block marinated cubed tofu, cooked (see instructions in Pad Thai-na)

6 new potatoes, cut into chunks and sauteed in garlic and oil until soft (add garlic toward the end)

1 boiled egg

whisk together:

3 T. hot water

1 T. honey

1/3 cup peanut butter

3 T. mayo

2 T. rice vinegar

1 t. soy sauce

1 t. sesame oil

salt to taste

Pad Thai-na

2009-09-30T17:54:00.000-07:00

Traditional pad thai contains bean sprouts, which lend a nice crunch. I substituted bean sprouts for a nice purple pepper from my farm share. There are many many recipes out there for this simple, essential Thai dish. I've made it a couple times and tried to tweak it-just sweet/tangy enough with the faintest hint of salty fish sauce. It's always a work in progress.

13.2 oz bag rice noodles, or whatever size bag you can find (you may need to adjust amounts)

5 cloves garlic, minced

1 purple pepper, very thinly sliced (you can reserve a few strips for garnish)

1/2 a white onion, thinly sliced (can use thinly sliced green onions in place, of or in addition to)

3 eggs

1 lime, cut into wedges

Cooked marinated tofu

1/2 cup cilantro leaves

3/4 cup salted peanuts, chopped or ground

**To make tofu, wrap the block in a couple paper towels and press between two plates with something heavy on top for about 20 minutes. Slice the tofu into cubes of a size which is pleasing to you. Marinate in a mixture of rice vinegar, soy sauce, and wasabi.... about 1/4 cup vinegar, 3 T. soy sauce and a teaspoon wasabi would be my guess. Sautee in oil until the cubes are browned on several sides. I usually add the marinade at the end to really soak up the flavor.

Mix together:

1 T. tamarind paste

1/2 cup vegetable broth

1 T. fish sauce

4 T. brown sugar

1 T. rice vinegar

1 T. fresh lime juice

1/3 cup hot water

1/4 t. red pepper flakes

1. Soak the rice noodles according to the directions on the package. This step is key! I let them sit in hot water for about 15 minutes. You can always cook them more but you can't uncook them.

2. Cook tofu and remove from pan- they can break apart if you mix them too much.

3. Sautee the onion in oil for a few minutes, until soft and translucent. Add garlic and pepper strips and cook a minute more. Add eggs and cook briefly until they begin to set. Add noodles and sauce. Stir fry until sauce is absorbed and noodles are soft.

4. Stir in 1/2 cup of the ground peanuts, and the tofu.

5. Serve sprinkled with ground peanuts, cilantro, and pepper strips. Garnish with a lime wedge.

Loaded Potato Fritters

2009-09-30T16:57:00.000-07:00

A more "advanced" recipe. This one takes a bit more time, effort, and trial-and-error in technique, and lots of patience. But it's worth it- this recipe is one of my favorite farm share creations of the season.

4-5 cups shredded potato

1 medium white onion, shredded

5 cloves garlic, minced

3 ears corn, roasted

1 t. curry powder

3 eggs

1/2 t. baking powder

1 t. salt

salt + pepper to taste

lots of oil for frying

1 cup chopped cucumber for garnish (but not an optional garnish)

For sauce:

1/2 cup sour cream

2 T. chopped cilantro

1/4 t. garlic powder

1/4 t. onion powder

salt + pepper

1. Mix shredded potato and salt together in a colander. Let it sit over the sink or a bowl while you prepare the other ingredients. Occasionally press the potatoes with the back of a large spoon to squeeze out liquid.

2. Mix together eggs, curry powder and baking powder in a large bowl. Sprinkle in a bit of salt and pepper. Add all ingredients except cucumber and stir well.

3. Put a large pan over medium heat and add enough oil to cover the bottom of the pan. Let the oil get hot, and then drop in spoonfuls of potato mixture (not too hot-they'll burn before cooking all the way through). Press into 1/2 inch thick fritters. Let the babies fry until golden brown. This step takes PATIENCE, because if you try to flip too soon, they're likely to fall apart. Flip each fritter carefully.

4. While the fritters are a'fryin, make your sauce by stirring together all ingredients and adjusting seasonings to taste.

5. When a batch of fritters is done, set them on a paper-towel lined plate. You'll probably have to do several batches.

6. Serve fritters topped with sour cream sauce and chopped cucumbers.

Beet-Carrot Salad

2009-09-30T16:46:00.000-07:00

Something like:

3 cups shredded carrots

juice of 1/2 orange

1 t. fresh ginger, finely grated

3 beets

1/4 cup golden raisins

1/2 t. salt plus more to taste

1. Boil beets until soft (check by poking with a fork). This takes about as long as boiling a potato. Let them cool a bit then peel and slice into half moons. Sprinkle some salt on the slices.

2. Meanwhile stir together orange juice, ginger and salt.

3. Combine all ingredients. Stir gently.

4. Cover and refrigerate for 1 hour, stirring halfway through.

Stuffed Zucchini

2009-08-09T17:27:00.000-07:00

1 large zuccini or summer squash

1/2 cup cooked rice

2-3 cloves garlic finely minced

1/4 cup boiled or steamed packed collard greens, chopped

1 small diced onion

2 heaping T pinenuts, toasted

2 heaping T golden raisins

1/2 veggie bouillon cube

1 lemon wedge

1/4 cup parmesan cheese

2 dried sage leaves or 1/2 t, crumbled

1 cup mozzarella cheese

olive oil, salt, pepper

1. Preheat oven to 350. Hollow out the zuccini, leaving 1/4- 1/2 inch thick walls. Reserve the zuccini innards. Rub the inside of the zuccini with olive oil, salt, and pepper. Place zuccini shells on a baking sheet and put in the oven while you prepare the other ingredients.

2. Sautee the onion until soft and transluscent. Add collard greens, cook a few minutes more. Add the garlic and stir until fragrant, another minute or so. Add the zuccini innards and cook until the liquid reduces.

3. Stir in rice, pinenuts, raisins, parmesan, sage and bouillon (you may need to soften it in a bit of hot water). Squeeze in the lemon. Add salt and pepper to taste.

4. Remove zuccini shells from the oven and stuff with the rice mixture. Bake in the oven for 20-30 minutes, until zuccini is softened. A few minutes before you take them out of the oven, sprinkle on the mozzarella, and bake until the cheese is melted and golden.

Great plain or with a little barbeque sauce!

Grilled Fava Beans

2009-07-07T14:37:00.001-07:00

1. Oil 'em, salt 'em, season 'em, grill 'em, pop 'em out, eat 'em.

Israeli CousCous

2009-07-06T19:10:00.000-07:00

This recipe is adapted from the recipe on the back of Trader Joe's Isreali CousCous box. I've made it with corn and sweet potatoes- just about any veggie combo will do. Try using some curry powder for an interesting twist, or substitute dried cranberries for the raisins.

2 T. oil
8 oz. Israeli couscous (large grain, or "pearl" couscous)
1 small yellow onion, sliced

2 cloves garlic, minced

1 carrot, thinly sliced into rounds

1 zuccini, quartered

1/2 cup pine nuts

1/4 cup golden raisins

2 t. fresh lemon juice

1 veggie boullion cube in 1-3/4 cups boiling water

1 fresh or dried sage leaf

1 fresh or dried bay leaf

tumeric, cinnamon, salt, pepper

1. Rub the zuccini with olive oil, sea salt, and any spices you'd like on there. Grill or broil until the zuccini begins to char in spots. When cool enough, slice into bite-sized pieces.

2. Heat a dash of oil in a small pan and add pinenuts, swirling until slightly browned.

3. Put about 2 T. oil in a saucepan and sautee the onion until it begins to soften and brown, about 4 minutes. Add the garlic and sautee a minute more. Add the carrots, bay leaf, and couscous and give everything a few swirls with a spoon until the couscous begins to turn toasty.

4. Add the veggie broth, lemon juice, about 4 dashes of tumeric, 2 dashes cinnamon, and a dash of salt (optional). Bring to a boil, then turn down heat and simmer until all the water is absorbed. This takes just a few minutes. Stir in pinenuts and raisins.

5. Spoon onto a plate and top with zuccini, crumbled sage, and fresh black pepper.

Summer Salad with Creamy Red Wine Viniagarette

2009-07-02T10:39:00.001-07:00

For the salad:

Chop up whatever kinds of greens you have, such as lettuce, endive, mustard greens, etc. Herbs such as cilantro, basil, mint etc are great too. Add thinly sliced radishes and carrots, and whatever other veggies you're inspired to throw in. I also added frozen roasted corn and sliced black olives.

For the dressing:

Whisk together 3 T. mayo, 2 T. olive oil, 3 t. honey, 3 T. red wine vinegar, 1/4 t. onion powder, 1/4 t. garlic powder and salt & fresh black pepper to taste. If it's too vinegary, add some more olive oil or mayo. Crumble in one dried or fresh sage leaf.

Pile greens on a plate, and serve with dressing and a halved hard-boiled egg sprinkled with salt and pepper.

**For perfect boiled eggs, put eggs in a saucepan so the water completely covers the eggs by about an inch. Put the pan over heat and bring to a boil. Right when the water boils, turn off heat, and cover the pan with a tightly fitting lid. Let the eggs sit for 8 minutes, drain and cover with cold water. Peel right away.

The Battle of the Bus

2009-07-01T08:54:00.000-07:00

We arrived in NY three minutes before my bus was scheduled to leave. I ran to the terminal and bolted past the line of people waiting. "Is that the bus to Boston?" I asked the man loading bags into the luggage compartment. "Yeh," he nodded. "Can I get on?" "You gotta wait in the line." As I stood in this line, I realized that many of my fellow passengers had tickets for a 4:00 bus. Mine was a 3:30. I watched, regretfully, as the 3:30 pulled out of the terminal. As I got some life safers from the vending machine for lunch, I rehearsed what I would say when I reached the ticket-taker. I was infuriated that they'd filled my bus first-come first-board. I would never expect this on a train or plane, why should it happen on a bus?

When I reached the front of the line, I spoke up. "Sir, I had a ticket for the 3:30, can you please tell me how, in the future, I would be permitted to board the bus which I purchased a ticket for?" This was my attempt at assertiveness, addressing a slightly different issue from the one at hand. The ticket taker, a short black guy, didn't respond, didn't look up. "My ticket was for the 3:30 bus," I tried again. "You can git on the bus," he said finally, looking up, confronting me. "What is your name please?" I asked, anger escalating. "Why?" "Because when I call Greyhound I want to let them know who I spoke to." "You can speak to the supervisor, or you can git on the bus." Deep breath. I'm losing this one. "Fine, I'll get on the bus." Realizing I'd be traveling for at least 10 hours, I felt the anger in my chest transform to defeat and frustration. The feeling traveled to my eyes. I've never, since childhood, been able to inhibit this automatic response to stress: crying. I tried to suck it up, opening my novel and pretending I was deeply moved by the story.

The ticket-taker turned out to be the driver. He walked past me briskly, checking the seats and aisle. I'd probably be pretty snippy if I had to drive a bus between NY and Boston for a living, I thought. Just one dose of rush hour traffic on either end is enough to drive a person mad. I began to feel sorry that I had taken out my frustration about missing the bus on Driver. We began our journey as Driver honked and hollared his way out of NY.

I was distracted from my novel by the angry letter to Greyhound I was fashioning in my mind. I am clearly not good at letting things go. "How dare I be inconvenienced?!" part of me was shouting. And then on a side note, "Do I have an inflated sense of intitlement?" My mind was in a mental tug of war. Around dinnertime, Driver turned off the highway and pulled into an Arby's parking lob. Arby's, why? I thought, as if this were a direct affront of my dining sensibilities.

I got out of the bus and everyone filed past me to stretch and get some fast food. Driver and I were left outside alone. "Hey, how you doing?" he asked, walking over to me. "I'm fine," I said, not knowing quite how to answer this question. "Really?" he seemed genuinely concerned. "Yah, it's just been a long day." I felt irritation lift, as if sucked out of my body by a giant emotion-sucking vaccuum cleaner. I noticed Driver had a large mishapen lump on his head, and wondered how this cranial deformity has influenced his life. He smiled at me and disappeared into Arby's. I spotted a convenience store across the street and headed over to get some cheese sticks and gum.

As I climbed up the steps to board the bus again, I told the driver, "Thanks, I really appreciated that." "Yah, no problem," he said, "I was worrying about you." I sat down in my seat, struck by how much impact total strangers could have on each other. I managed to fight and make up with someone I'd encountered for only a few short moments. I figured he probably saw me tearing up.. Separately, we'd taken a conflict and wrestled with it- me angry, tired, but understanding; he tired, nerves spent, but caring. If only there was more of this open emotional commerce in the world, allowing us to make peace with our fellow human beings, things might not escalate to the point of angry letters.

Yum-Yum Teriyaki

2009-06-30T16:28:00.000-07:00

Whisk together for the teriyaki sauce:

2 cloves garlic, minced

1 T. minced fresh ginger

3 T. sesame oil

1/4 cup soy sauce

1 T. red wine vinegar

2 T. Japanese rice vinegar

4 T. brown sugar

red pepper flakes (optional- if you want some kick)

(can be increased by a quarter or a half if you like things super saucy)

1 small sweet potato, cubed (I know, I put sweet potatoes in e-v-e-r-y-thing)

1 small yellow onion, sliced

2 small or 1 medium carrot, sliced into rounds

3 garlic scapes, chopped (optional- I wouldn't go out looking for these unless they show up in your farm share)

1/2 cup snow peas, which I forgot to use, but would probably be good.

1 package seitan faux beef strips. I like Trader Joe's beefless strips, or if you want to put in some real animal, you could use grilled steak strips.

1 head bok choy, chopped

1/3 a cup or so roasted cashews

sesame seeds

white or brown rice, cooked according to instructions

1. Put some oil in a large pan or wok over medium-high heat and begin to sautee the onion until it softens and is slightly browned. Lower heat and add sweet potatoes and carrots, sautee a few minutes more. Add garlic scape and (faux) beef, sautee, sautee, add snow peas, sautee.

2. Add teriyaki sauce and cook until the sweet potatoes are tender, at least another 5-10 minutes, stirring occasionally. Add cashews. Place the bok choy on top of your sautee, cover, and allow to steam for a few minutes. Stir, and serve over rice sprinkled with sesame seeds.

My Absolute Favorite Quesadillas, Bordering on My Favorite Thing of All Time

2009-06-19T18:42:00.000-07:00

This recipe truly did come from having a LOT of farmer's market kale, and my love for Mexican food. It can be made pretty basically (without the potatoes) or with additions like guacamole or roasted red peppers. Really, it comes down to the sauce. As in all my recipes, amounts are approximate.

2 bunches of kale, chopped- best if it has been blanched (briefly boiled) and squeezed dry first. It should come to about a cup of condensed, vitamin packed greens. You can also use swiss chard, spinach, collard greens or any combination of these. Frozen spinach works well too.

1 small yellow onion, sliced

1 sweet potato, halved, then sliced into half circles (about 1/4-1/2 inch thick)

2-3 cloves garlic, minced

1/2 cup roasted corn, fresh or frozen

2 cups shredded cheese- cheddar and jack is a good combo

3 or more flour tortillas

Wicked good sauce- 1/2 to 1 t chipotle chile puree, depending on how spicy you want your sauce (see note about this magical condiment), 1/4 cup mayo, 1-2 T fresh lemon juice, 1 t brown sugar

Cumin, salt, "bayou" seasoning (salt, paprica, garlic powder, cayenne, black pepper, mustard powder, fresh lemon peel)

1 lemon wedge

To make chipotle chile puree, get one can of chipotle chiles in adobo sauce, available in the Mexican foods section of grocery stores, and puree in your food processor. Freeze the unused portion and use to add kick to soups, sauces, eggs, just about anything.

1 Heat about 3 T oil in a pan over medium, add sweet potatoes. Stir occasionally, and season with a good amount of salt (a couple good all-over shakes), cumin, and bayou seasoning (spicy, go easy). Cook until the potatoes are softened, about 8 minutes, and add garlic. Cook 1-2 minutes more, season to taste.

2 Meanwhile, heat oil in a separate pan and add onions. Allow them to brown. Add kale, season with a bit of salt and squeeze in lemon juice. Stir in corn.

3 Spray a pan (yeah I tend to use a lot of pans when I cook) with cooking spray and lay one tortilla in the pan. Cover one half with cheese (1/2 cup or so), a couple spoons of sauce, and a couple scoops of the potato mixture and kale mixture. Cook until cheese is melted and the tortilla is crisp. Transfer to a plate, repeat, go mmmmmmmmmmmmmmm.

Chopped Green Stuff with Homemade Ranch Dressing

2009-06-19T18:29:00.000-07:00

About 4 cups chopped fresh greens- I used red butterhead lettuce and Napa cabbage

2 carrots, thinly sliced into rounds

1/2 cup roasted corn, fresh or frozen

1/2 cup sliced canned black olives (optional)

garlic croutons- easy to make, easier to buy

"Ranch dressing"- combine about a quarter cup of mayo with 1 T. milk or more until you like the consistency, 1 T. lemon juice, 2 T. parmesan cheese, and lots of freshly ground black pepper. Salt to taste. I don't know if these are the measurements to be honest. It might taste good.

1 Combine all veggies, toss with dressing.

6-Layer Tex-Mex Eggs

2009-06-19T18:04:00.000-07:00

3 eggs

1/2 onion, chopped into bits

4 chives, sliced

2 garlic scapes

2 six inch soft flour tortillas

1 cup cheese- I used smoked mozzarella, cheddar, and a bit of pepper jack..whatever you have will do

guacamole- Mash one ripe avocado with: juice of a quartered lime or eighthed lemon, 1 clove minced garlic, 1/4 t. cumin, 1 T. minced red onion, 1 T minced cilantro, salt and pepper and extra citrus to taste

4 T salsa, your favorite kind, i used Green Mountain Gringo roasted garlic

1/2 cup corn, defrosted if frozen- I always keep some of Trader Joe's frozen roasted corn on hand- fresh roasted is even better!

2 dried or fresh sage leaves

chili powder, salt, pepper

1 Heat oil or butter in a pan, add onions and allow to soften, about 3 minutes. Add garlic and garlic scape, cook one minute more.

2 Drop the eggs into the pan, stirring the yolks so they break. Sprinkle the top of the eggs with the chives, salt, pepper, and chili powder. Two passes over the top with each spice should do it. You know how to cook eggs, I don't really need to explain this part.

3 While the eggs are cooking (I guess I should've told you to start doing this already) spray a separate pan with cooking spray and set over medium-low heat. Lay one tortilla in the pan and spread on 1/2 cup cheese (or more, really, go ahead). Allow cheese to melt and bottom of tortilla to brown, set on a plate. Repeat with second tortilla.

4 On top of each tortilla, layer guacamole, eggs, corn, salsa, and crumbled sage leaves. Top with some fresh pepper.

Happy Garden Veggie Curry

2009-06-16T18:20:00.000-07:00

1/2 yellow onion, sliced

1 carrot, cut on 1/2 inch diagonals

1 sweet potato, in 1/2 inch cubes

2 large or 3 small cloves garlic

1 T finely minced ginger

3 sliced garlic scapes

1 package faux "chicken" seitan strips

1 can lite coconut milk

1-2 t good curry powder

1 good veggie bouillon cube

2 t. brown sugar

1 head bok choy, coarsely chopped

1 head tatsoi, coarsely chopped

oil for sauteeing

brown or white rice, cooked

1. Sautee onion, carron, and sweet potato in 2 T oil for about 4 minutes, until veggies begin to soften.

2. Add garlic, ginger, garlic scapes, and faux "chicken" seitan strips. Cook about 2 minutes more.

3. Add coconut milk, curry powder, bouillon cube, and brown sugar. Stir until blended togther. Simmer until potatoes are tender.

4. Add bok choy and tatsoi. Heat through, about 1 minute. Adjust spice to taste. Enjoy over rice.

Cultivating empathetic joy

2009-04-03T08:23:00.000-07:00

In Buddhism there is a concept called "empathetic joy." Empathy is the ability to experience what someone else experiences, to "put yourself in someone else's shoes," so to speak. I've been thinking a lot about this lately and was inspired by a chapter about it in Sharon Salzburg's book Lovingkindness. She describes empathetic joy as essentially the antidote to feelings of envy, inadequacy, and low self-worth, all products of the human tendency is to compare ourselves to others. Am I better than this or that? A lot of energy goes into keeping up a certain level of status in our own minds.

Envy is not a pretty emotion, so we either try to hide it away and it eats at us, or we become negative, resentful, unpleasant human beings. People envy all kinds of things~ other peoples' homes, their looks, their good relationships, their jobs, their happiness. It can lead people to feel badly when others are doing well, and feel good when things go poorly for others, as if this changes our situation at all.

Empathetic joy is a practice of being open to these feelings when they come up, and beginning to allow true joy for others into our hearts. There are a couple reasons this would be beneficial. For one, it can counter the powerful negative emotions of envy and resentment. It can create a genuine gladness for friends, strangers, even enemies. I think of it like this, there is so much suffering in the world, if there is anyone experiencing joy, success, peace or happiness, we have reason to rejoice. (Why don't non-profits ever send out pictures of people laughing along with those pictures of poor children?)

I have been practicing cultivating empathetic joy for a few months, and I do see a difference in the way I feel toward others and myself. Sometimes what used to arise as resentment and self-loathing now has a quality of deep yearning. (Yearning is a much easier feeling than resentment and self-loathing, so it's a start.) I can be informed by this yearning: What is it about another person's life that has triggered yearning? Is there something I can learn about what I need? If yes, mental note, if no, I can release the need to chase something that is not genuinely what I need.

Sometimes, I just feel happy to be in the presence of someone who is feeling good. I can be happy that someone laughs, has a loving moment, has nice posessions, without feeling as though this means they're better than me, or thinking, "Why can't I?" This is not always easy... I still find it almost impossible to have empathetic joy if I'm feeling just miserable, or if something touches on a very deep and out-of-reach yearning. But I do like a good challenge.

We all have our own challenges and pleasures to encounter in this life. It seems we can only do our best to genuinely stand with each other through both the suffering and the joy.

Chi

2007-11-16T11:43:00.000-08:00

Human-Computer Interaction, otherwise known as Computer-Human Interaction (CHI)

Chromosomal crossover, in homologous recombination, a viral DNA sequence called a "crossover hotspot instigator" (CHI)

Chi (letter), the Greek letter, Χ

Chi (kana), a letter used in the Japanese language Hiragana

Qi (also spelled Ch'i; traditional: 氣, simplified: 气), the word roughly meaning "life energy" and written qì in Pinyin

art and science

2007-11-16T11:28:00.000-08:00

Which is greater: art or science?
In the purest sense, art is creation- there is no right or wrong. It does not even have to be conventionally beautiful to be art. It is expressive of life and that is beautiful. (Certainly, some personal expressions are more appealing or aesthetically pleasing to you.) Art moves through chaos and structure like the winds. A breeze, a hurricane, a tormented moment, peace.

Science imposes structure and order. It organizes this world. We understand the elephant, one inch at a time, until aha! the elephant emerges, and we realize that the elephant has internal structures--we must go deeper. Then, upon closer inspection, the elephant seems to love its baby- what do we do with that? And why is this elephant here anyway? And the wheels of science turn on and on.

Most things are neither pure art nor pure science. They loop together, intertwined like lovers.

Cooking, were it pure art, would be entirely unpalatable. (Sauces strewn with hasty passionate spices then thrown against the wall.) Therapy as pure science would be bereft of heart. Most art involves science: the mixing and precise application of paints. Most science involves art: creative thought leads us by leaps and bounds.

The human life: art and science wondering how to be artful and scientific when in fact we are both. Finding one's truth is an art. Living by it is a science. Or perhaps it is the other way around.