New Priorities

As I worked to finish my midterm by the deadline, another week between posts went by. The realization of no longer having a plan still lingers in the back of my mind, but a new realization has taken its place for introspection.

That is, I’m going through the process of deciding what my priorities are. 

Tell me, has your Mara come to Tea lately?

This can be an ever-consuming venture, as I’m the sort of person with a plethora of big dreams, seemingly bigger than my life can permit simultaneously. To an extent, my dreams are too large to manifest themselves at the same time in the here and now, but I still dream and want and need.

The Burt-man, being ever observant in my turbulent changes these last few months, provided me with his Pennsylvanian Dutch wisdom the best he could (Dad figures tend to do that). He told me that life was like a chessboard and I was chess piece on that board. As a singular chess piece, I only have a certain number of options of squares to which I can move to, and each piece on the board plays the game differently. You play the game with the options you have, and work with the strategies to move from square to square to ultimately assist in best playing the current game.

In where I ultimately plan to be, I cannot move through life thinking “if only I had so-and-so’s life” or “why is it easier for so-and-so to do this or be that.” They’re just a different chess piece in a different game.

I bring this up because I still struggle with wanting to do everything and do it right the first time. I want[ed] to be a full-time graduate student with a full-time job of my dreams (with benefits), live on my own, heal whatever is conflicting my body, become amazingly fit as I excel at rock climbing, weight lifting, running, and yoga, blog beautiful posts and recipes five times a week, have an active social life and time for a significant other, learn the cello, sing jazz, travel often, have daily enlightening meditations and philosophical realizations… 

And this all had to happen at the same time in the course of a year or I viewed myself a failure to all Morri-kind.

I still want to do and be all these things, and I am confident that at the right time and place I will. It’s a matter of priorities, of deciding what move on the chessboard you position yourself first.

Not surprisingly, the personal growth my blog has nourished has become a top priority. This isn’t about the site itself, but more what it had manifested: self-awareness, confidence, the evolution of my passions, and a focus of my creativity. And though I have a few of the things I want to do in life underway (part-time graduate school, part-time work, part-time social life, working to become awesomely fit and healing holistically), fueling and nurturing my creative outlet has taken center stage.

For one, that means taking photography seriously and actually understanding why I produce the photos I take, and how to make them more professional looking. It also means taking the recipes to a higher standard.

Here goes everything.

Pumpkin Chai Latte

480 ml Filtered water
2 Chai tea bags (or loose tea equivalent)*
120 g Pumpkin puree
1/4 tsp. Cinnamon
1/4 tsp. Nutmeg, plus a dash as garnish
1/4 tsp. Allspice
1/4 tsp. Coriander
1/2 – 1 tsp. Unrefined apple cider vinegar, optional **
Sweetener, to taste ***
120 ml Almond milk (or whatever “milk” you prefer)

In a medium saucepan, cook the water on high heat until it simmers, and add the tea bags to steep for three to five minutes.
Remove the tea bags and lower the heat to medium-low, and add the remaining ingredients save for the almond milk.
Pour the chai tea into two mugs and set aside.****
In a separate cup, froth the almond milk with an immersion blender, milk frother, or simply put in a lidded jar and shake rigorously.  
Pour the milk on top of the tea and garnish with nutmeg.
Serve hot.

Makes 2 servings.

*I used Trader Joe’s Rooibos Chai Tea
**When I was sick this time last year, the old boyfriend put apple cider vinegar in my rooibos tea and it tasted like a tangy hot apple cider. He had read somewhere that it helped with sore throats and the overall feelings of crumminess.
*** I used honey, about one tablespoon per serving. (I get such a sweet tooth for my tea as it gets colder.) But this can be easily made herbivore using maple syrup, stevia, coconut sugar, date sugar, or left unsweetened.
****The pumpkin puree has a tendency to separate and sink to the bottom. Simply stir until you add the almond milk.

Being Full

It seemed to come out of nowhere. Little by little, bit by bit, I felt it after every experience that I have mentioned (and not mentioned) on this site. For the first time, what seems to have been years, I am full. Contentedly, ecstatically full. I haven't been this happy or this grounded in such a long time.

From the breakup to meeting people that have become chosen family to farmers markets to fermentation and soaking to the death my family experienced last week, it has led me here: I am satiated, absolutely and wholly, because I know where I am going. I know who I am for me, and I know what I’m going to do to make the world a better place.

My sleeping better has quite a few variables, though I’m not sure which one is the main reason for my SMI going away: it could be I’m living life for myself, that I’m taking my second dose of Armour Thyroid earlier in the day, or, most likely, because I’m eating.

I’ve officially moved from “eating to live” to the “living to eat” category, and that doesn’t necessarily mean gluttony. It means that I’m able to pick up my body’s elusive cues, and trusting those cues, knowing that I’m hungry and why. I’ve started eating more, and as a result, my body is filling out. I’m still the around the same weight, less even, but my curves are more defined and for the first time ever I am accepting of my body.

Then of course there are those days I do wake up before 6 a.m., and I think to myself: “I have the choice of eating more and sleeping longer, and thus weighing “more”, or the choice of eating the amount I think I should, and thus waking up earlier and ‘weighing less’.” It’s that old voice of what I should be doing and what I should look like that gets me still, because it thinks of food, eating, and body image as “right or wrong”. It’s that old voice’s logic that I have to choose between sleep health and nutritional health, when my health as a collective is what I feel to be the most important. Finally, it’s that old voice that tries to rain on my parade that my body is filling out, because I had worked on controlling my body to be what I viewed as Beauty By Thinness for so long.

From this I learned that I’m surprisingly okay with this change (much to that old voice’s surprise and disdain), because I am still Morri: the girl who cooks, is progressively getting better at both yoga and rock climbing, is applying for grad school, and yes, is definitely going places.

So if that means I have the curves my body has tried for years to show what health looks like for me, I accept those terms unequivocally and entirely to their fullest extent. Now comes the challenge of eating when hungry over eating because of habit (as in, not eating at 9 a.m. because I’m no longer up at 3:30), and thankfully I have the tools and support to know the difference.

Swiss & Fig Grits Cake Squares

200 g CGF White grits
45 ml Whey
Filtered water
1 tsp. Sea salt
8 Large eggs
120 g Swiss cheese, sliced or grated
8 Fresh Black Mission figs, sliced vertically into fourths

In a bowl (preferably glass), combine the grits, whey, and water and let it sit covered at room temperature overnight to twenty-four hours.
Pour the contents of the grit mixture into a medium-sized saucepan, and pour additional filtered water so that it tops the grits halfway between the joints.
Preheat the oven to 350ºF.
Cook at medium-low heat until thickened, and then turn it off to cool slightly for thirty minutes.
In another bowl (possibly the bowl you used for soaking the grits), beat the eggs thoroughly, and while stirring the grits, slowly pour and integrate the ingredients to avoid curdling.
In a greased 12 x 12” baking pan*, layer with half the eggy grits mixture, cheese, fig, and top with the remaining grits. (If you half leftover fig slices, simply place it on top.)
Bake for 1 hour, until golden brown on the top and cooked through.
Turn off the oven and let it sit for fifteen minutes or so before cutting and serving.

Makes 16 servings.

* I have a preference for "tall" foods, ones with layers and stacked high rather than spread out. This recipe would also work with a larger pan, with one layer of the eggy grits topped with the fig and cheese (or whatever other ingredients you want to add).

Choices

Has it really been a week? Seven days flew by like there were twenty-four minutes in a day instead of twenty-four hours. So much has been happening lately, and because of it I haven’t felt much like blogging.

In an attempt to regain some sort of control of my destiny, I decided to increase my fitness regimen. Yoga has sort of slipped from my daily routine, but rock climbing six times a week along with my attempts to run three miles five times a week (the latter is new) outside or on the treadmill/elliptical has brought much frustration. In truth I was expecting miracles, hoping to see my “problem areas” melt away and a lean, strong, and confident Morri would show herself in the mirror. But because I’m working out more, I am waking up early again, hungry and tired and doing what I can to stay in the present through partially closed and exhausted eyes.

From last Tuesday to today, I have done what I know makes me feel in control: cooking and baking, exercising and eating. But it’s a little better now… kind of.

Looking b.a. with my B.A., but really...

I know I said I finished school in December, and received my diploma in February, but I participated in my school’s convocation ceremony last Saturday. To think I had considered not walking across that stage in my cap and gown, cheering and being cheered by friends and family. Grinning ear to ear, I was inspired by the speakers and their speeches, and I fell in love with my discipline all over again. There was a feeling of closure as I moved my tassel from the right side of my green cap to the left, embracing my peers, both graduating and not. And because of this memory of facing the stage and listening to these beautiful people speak, and shaking hands with the Dean, and being photographed and smiling all the while, I decided to apply for grad school in the Spring.

... I'm freaking ecstatic!

Wish me luck.

I learned this week that life is all about choices, and how the choices you make not only affects you but everyone around you. Sometimes these choices are hard, and you need to see where your priorities lie and conflict. (This is conflict resolution in its intrapersonal form: what are you willing to negotiate or compromise or give up for another priority or choice? Are you even able to?) Sometimes the choices you think are easy turn around and show you another choice that takes you down another path entirely.

We had a full house!

My biggest fears are the fear of regret and the fear of time, (and I’m terrible at decision-making when both choices are equally grand and amazing), especially when I have put upon myself a schedule of the times in my life said choices are to be completed. It’s silly, it’s exhausting, and I’m done with focusing on the uncontrollable things and making the things that are controllable not good enough.

I have a good life with numerous options. I have my education, my loved ones, my health, and my passions. That’s really all anyone can ever ask for. 

There are times, though, when comfort is needed on a plate, something rich and filling, diverse and healthful, and sweet and savory. Risotto (or any rice dish that has a creamy consistency, really) has become one of my favorite dishes to play around with, and I wanted a recipe that had ingredients synonymous to spring.

Sweet Rabbit Risotto

800 ml Water
1 2 lb/32 oz Rabbit, whole or in pieces
1 tsp. Sea salt
292 g Arborio rice
2 Carrots, grated
1 White onion, coarsely chopped
1 Garlic clove, coarsely chopped
2 Green onions, thinly sliced
120 g Petite peas, frozen or fresh
45 g Walnut halves, coarsely chopped
50 g Dried currants
1 heaping tbsp. Dried parsley
1/2 tsp. Dried tarragon

In a pressure cooker (or large pot) on medium-high heat, cook the rabbit in the water (along with the teaspoon of salt) until the meat can be easily removed from the bones (for a pressure cooker, this will take about an hour, while in a regular pot it will take significantly longer.
Remove the rabbit from the water and place it on a cutting board, shred the meat with a fork, and place the meat in a bowl to use later.
Pour the Arborio rice into the rabbit broth and cook as you would normally prepare rice.
In a large cast iron skillet on medium heat, grease the bottom with your choice of cooking oil and add the remaining ingredients (except for the parsley and tarragon) to cook until soft and slightly colored.
When the rice is done, fold in all the other ingredients until completely integrated.
Serve hot over French-cut green beans.

Makes 8 servings.

Aha! Moments & Recipes by the Book

I don’t know where my mind has been, but I have my theories. Rumor has it she has left the confines of my skull in pursuit of better things, such as running off with a Latin Love God, working at a local café, and making it as an actress in b-rated horror flicks. Without her, I’ve made rookie mistakes, mathematical mistakes concerning recipe calculations or forgetting to acknowledge where acknowledgement is due (Like Erin of The Sensitive Epicure for example, the lovely hostess of this month’s Gluten Free Rally for pâté a choux). I know my two wrongs don’t make a right, but I’ve fixed where I could without my mind in her proper place.

That’s the beauty of being alive, though. We don’t always have a “do over” button or a way of making our mistakes magically disappear like the backspace button on our keyboard when we misspell a word. We do, however, have the ability to correct our errors in the present, as well as the difficult choice in deciding whether to fix them or leave them be. Even if my mind has wandered off to goodness knows where, probably Scandinavia of all places, I turned the wrongs into rights.

But it doesn’t stop there.

It was well past midnight when I found myself unable to settle down. In the darkness I stared out into the dark terrain of my bedroom, filled to the brim with boxes. There were mountains of clean and dirty laundry, boxes of memories that weren’t even mine, even going so far as things yet to unpacked from my semester abroad in Sweden. Within a year, to which I am including my anticipated move to the house I’m renting with friends this August, I’ll have packed and unpacked my life nine times. You heard me right, people. Nine. Times. No wonder my mind ran off without me.

It was time to unpack. It was time to declutter. It was time to get my mind back.

There was a severe imbalance towards my path of Being. I pretty much had the health thing down. I was physically aware with what my body was telling me, at least where eating and exercising was concerned. I started to find things I enjoyed doing to keep my mind focused and busy. But still, something was missing. Something wasn’t right.

There was too much clutter physically manifesting itself in my space, that peaceful haven from the boisterous world that awaited me outside. Where there should have been feng shui, there was congestion, and it was affecting me on a spiritual and emotional level. Where there should have been stillness and quiet, there was chatter filled with incessant rambling concerning life paths I didn’t want to take. With all that clutter I had lost a sense of stability and Self that I felt only other people ultimately knew what was best for me.

 Funny. That all seems to change when you start to throw things away, when you finally unpack last year’s adventure. It turns out your mind was there the entire time, but its voice is significantly louder than it used to be, certainly louder than the fading prattle that used to torment you before.

On a completely different tangent, this could explain why I don’t do recipes by the book. I prefer to treat them like guidelines, friendly suggestions more than anything, and tend to add what I think it’s lacking or omit what I think it doesn’t need. Sure, I’ll keep to the same or similar preparations and I’ll give credit to the origins of the recipe, but cooking is an evolutionary process. What works for others may not work for me and vice versa, so adapting to your needs is not only essential but also a great way to experiment with an already delicious concept.

Except for modifying one thing (okay… maybe two, to make it gluten and refined sugar free), I made a recipe exactly as it was written, and I learned a lot from doing so. I learned that it’s okay to do a recipe differently where you see fit, and that doing something just as it was written or said or done may or may not work for you. I learned that having guidelines made by other people are nice to have when you are looking for perspective or a starting point, but not so much to live by right down to the letter.

You’ve made it this far, right? Go on. Give yourself some credit and listen to yourself for a change. You deserve it.