One Year Closer

I did it. One year of grad school over, and another to follow. I don’t like to think about it very much, simply because the idea of leaving academia in search of a career scares the heck out of me. School was my only focus for months, and as a result my work at the community center suffered, as did my overall health and social life. I wrote my final papers and proposals in a haze of fatigue and tear-filled vision, my walls finally crashing down and hard. How long have I been like this, you ask. Too long, dear friends. Too long.

The Meals with Morri front page was up on the screen of my laptop on a daily basis yet untouched, a neglected hobby you once couldn’t tear me away from. At one point I had so many recipes and photos it took, I kid you not, weeks to get them all down. It’s been over three weeks, and not one recipe was recorded, with only one meal photographed. I didn't even celebrate my site's second anniversary back in April. Something was seriously wrong. 

Mother's Day Dinner: Grilled scallops & crispy polenta salad

I don’t take the idea of depression well. It’s a phenomenon that happens to other people, whereas all I experience is a funk that won't go away. All the stress and the obligations and the things I simply wasn’t doing were purposefully replaced with over-activity and worrying. I wasn’t eating enough, sleeping enough, or being enough… and people noticed. All I wanted to do was sleep and read, a red flag telling me to slow down if I ever saw one. But I didn’t slow down. I just kept going and going and going.

I know I said I wouldn’t use the “h-word” early on in my writing, but I’m using it now. I hated it. I hated that I couldn’t do it all. I hated that people and activities I loved with every essence of my being were left in the dust while I scrambled to make everything work. The past wouldn’t stay where it was, and the future was a mixture of uncertainty and terror. Never mind the present, I said to myself, because if I work my butt off now I will have everything in place for later. That’s the thing about time, though: it’s always the present.

So with summer school starting next week, I’ve decided to change my focus. I’m not working at camp this year, sadly, but I will have the energy to get through school and also spend these months being with friends and family, starting new hobbies, and going on adventures. 

After all, Life isn’t about how much you do but how much it means to you doing it.

Down-to-Earth Vegetarian Gumbo

Quite a few people were surprised at my lack of celebrating Earth Day. To them, I’m this all-loving, tree-hugging hippy chick that has a gluten free blog. And while I do happen to love quite a lot of things (and yes - I have, on occasion, hugged a tree), I treated Earth Day like any other day. I went to work, rested from Sunday’s epic climb, and slept. Graduate school has me napping like a champ these days.

To be fair, I had planned on posting something in the name of Earth Day: a recipe symbolizing the coming together as a global community to work on the environmental issues we have today. But for some reason I have too tired to focus on anything but school and work this semester to do anything else. It was marked on my calendar and everything.

(source)

I remember early in the semester watching The 11th Hour in my Environmental Conflict Resolution class. We didn’t get to finish the film, so I left the room absolutely horrified by what the world has dealt with. True, the movie is meant to stress the consequences of pollution, overfishing, and taking more resources than we give back, but it definitely hit home for me. For the first time, this hippy was very angry at humanity… and feeling very insignificant in how she could make things better. How in the world could my attempts in using energy-efficient light bulbs or turning off the thermostat once in a while solve anything? That's the point, though, isn't it. We can't do it alone.

The reason why food has become my focus in conflict resolution has much to do with environmental awareness. I’ve become fascinated by the sustainable and “know your farmer” movement, which is why I’ve decided to devote a post every week to a farmers market outing starting in May. Each week will be a different market highlighting the amazing farmers that make them unique and delicious.

It may not save the world of all its problems, but it’s a start.

Vegetarian Gumbo

21 g Unsalted butter (or olive oil for a herbivore friendly dish)
21 g Olive oil
30 g Garbanzo bean flour
1 qt. Veggie broth or water
1 Carrot, finely diced
1 Celery stalk, finely diced
2 Yellow onions, finely diced
3 Shallots, finely diced
2 Garlic cloves, coarsely chopped
454 g Chopped bell peppers (I used a combination of green, yellow, and red)
794 g Canned whole and peeled plum tomatoes, drained and coarsely chopped
3 tbsp. / 7 g Dried parsley
1 tsp. Dried thyme
1 Bay leaf
1 tbsp. Coconut aminos (or gluten free Worchester sauce)
1 tsp. Sea salt
1 tsp. Ground pepper
283 g fresh/frozen okra (cut into 1/4-inch slices)

In a large pot on medium-low heat, melt the butter with the olive oil until it begins to bubble.
Slowly stir in the garbanzo bean flour and once thoroughly combined and slightly browned (there should be a distinct nutty smell), followed by carefully pouring in the vegetable broth in manageable increments.
Add in the vegetables and spices to cook on medium heat for forty minutes to an hour.
Turn off the heat and remove the bay leaf.
Ladle into bowls over rice while hot.

Makes 6 – 8 servings.

The Birds and the Trees

A couple of years ago, I rescued a nestling from one of my cats. Miette (i.e., the Abyssinian Ninja Assassin) has this habit of coming to the kitchen window with something in her mouth, sometimes alive but usually not. I’ve seen it all: mice, voles, huge insects, and small birds barely contained in her small mouth. She likes chasing dogs, and her battle cry sounds like a banshee wail whenever another cat enters her territory. She has food sensitivities like I do, but whenever she brings something alive home I do what I can to rescue them from an otherwise dreary fate. It's not like she eats them, anyway...

I appreciate the birds that roost in our trees, especially as they sing their songs in the morning when spring comes around. In my opinion, it's a pleasant alternative to a beeping alarm clock scaring you awake.

This nestling seemed to be learning how to fly and hadn’t quite gotten the hang of it when Miette chased it into one of our yucca plants. I get a rush saving other things from the feline authoritarian regime that runs our house. After I put Miette inside, mad that I ruined her fun, the bird sat on my knee, trusting me enough to close its eyes after such an ordeal. And finally, as I had an amazing summer day ahead of me, I put it on a branch and wished it well.

I still look back on that memory fondly. Not the killer Abyssinian part, mind you, but the part about watching the bird’s inactivity and savoring the calmness of the moment shared.

Two Fridays ago I fell and bruised my tailbone (a nicer way of saying I fell on my butt) so badly my entire spine was affected. The initial bruise a few inches below the inflamed tailbone was black, and sitting upright and lying down hurt like no physical pain I’ve ever encountered. The funny thing about back injuries is how unaware until that moment how much you use your back, and how much energy it takes healing such an injury. The initial shock left me feeling fragile and vulnerable, and for one brief moment I could relate to the terror of a nestling that fell from its nest… or a tree that had been uprooted without care. Such trauma brings out pain from other places, and what is a tree without a sturdy trunk but sticks and leaves and not much else.

When I hurt my back, I was uprooted and had to reconsider so much about myself. Why do I have to be overactive and stressed out to feel like I’m actually doing something useful? Why do I not savor the breaks in the day and enjoy inaction as it was intended? For what it seemed like an eternity since the last time I relaxed, I slept and ate and dealt with my insecurities in quiet contemplation without distraction. And I don’t know if anyone else has experienced this, but as my stress levels went down, so too my tolerance of it.

Sentience is too fragile and vulnerable to be in a constant state of stress, and regardless whether or not my injury was a divine intervention or a “sh*t happens” occurrence, I received the message loud and clear. My body is not impervious to injury, and thriving on stress can only take you so far. But there is strength in being uprooted, because it gave me the mindset to evaluate all the traumas and dramas I had experienced up until this point. It sucks, royally and painfully so, but it is necessary and liberating to not hold onto them anymore. Luckily, despite being uprooted (or having fallen from the nest), I’m healing quite nicely and actually have the energy to make recipes happen.

With all this talk of birds and trees, I felt it was appropriate to share my version of peanut butter Easter nests. These were my only favorite Easter sweet besides the solid chocolate rabbit as a kid (I had an aversion to Peeps). I loved the confection’s combination of sweet and savory, creamy and crunchy, peanut butter and chocolate, and I wanted to recreate a healthier version of the treat to indulge when a craving struck. They turned out so well, I brought them to one of my graduate classes along with my Early Grey shortbread for my colleagues to enjoy. Not only did they enjoy them, they wanted the recipes for both!

It’s the little things that make bloggers happy.

No-Bake Bird Nest Cookies

68 g Puffed rice cereal
252 g Honey (or maple syrup)
192 g Creamy peanut butter (salted)
15 g Hulled hemp seeds
15 g Cacao nibs
15 g Toasted whole flaxseeds
25 g Unsweetened shredded coconut
15 g Sesame seeds
Thompson raisins, optional

Place the dry ingredients in a large bowl and set aside.
Combine the honey and peanut butter in a small saucepan, and cook over low heat until melted and the edges begin to bubble slightly, stirring until smooth.
Pour mixture over the dry ingredients and thoroughly coat using a silicone spatula or a wooden spoon.
Using a tablespoon (you can guesstimate with your hands too, but I felt this was a less stickier alternative), form mixture into tight balls using 1 heaping tablespoon of mixture per ball.
Make an indention in center of each ball to resemble a bird’s nest, and place them on parchment paper to cool and set completely.
Place two or three raisins or other egg-shaped candies into each nest.
For storage, stack them in an airtight container in layers with parchment paper in between to prevent sticking and staling.

Makes up to 30 cookies.