My Boyfriend, The Vegetarian

His being vegetarian isn’t his only redeeming quality. He’s smart, funny, compassionate, handsome, and he believes in our relationship. He believes in making us work as much as I do. 

Air & Space Museum (see us?)

For the better part of 2013, he was my best-kept secret. Only a handful of people in my family and friendship circles even knew we were dating.  In fact, let me narrate the following conversation between my cousin and I:

Her: So Morri, I saw from Facebook that your relationship started in December of last year (we had made it Facebook official in August).

Me: (sheepish grin forming) Yeah, about that…

Her: So my question is… Why didn’t you tell me?

Or, better yet, I would mention him in passing and people would say, “Woah, woah! Hold the phone! Your boyfriend?!”

In truth, with my last relationship ending last year and being absolutely devastated by it, I was hesitant to bring this one under the Meals with Morri radar. In my logic, it was kind of like tattooing your sweetheart’s name onto your body, daring the Universe to do its worst. But the more and more we talked and spent time together (he was abroad for the majority of our relationship, teaching in Italy) over the summer, the more confident I felt that this was the person I wanted to be with as my partner. 

Our First Mead.

The ultimate lesson I am getting from this relationship is taking things in stride. Nothing is rushed. For the first time I didn’t feel like I had to be going one million miles a minute, and it was a glorious feeling to sleep in, watch Babylon 5, and make delicious food. 

Gluten Free Chicago-style Pizza

... Or at least delicious messes.

Pumpkin Uh-oh Waffles

That’s the other lesson I learned: cooking is extremely important to me when it comes to love. When he came to visit in December, he taught me to make cheese from scratch. It was the sort of moment, watching us cook together in perfect synchronization in an out-of-body sort way, that I realized I wanted this relationship to work with all my heart. I realized I was in love with him.

Koester Potatoes with fresh dill from my garden

I’ve also come to understand that there is no limitation to how much you love someone. I know this because I find ways to fall in love with him more and more each day. I find that even with hard conversations, I feel better for having them. We work to come up with solutions and not argue about who is right. We turn little things into traditions, like Waffle and Koester potatoes on Saturdays or reading to each other during long drives. We teach each other our passions, such as his love for chemistry, philosophy, and all things geektastic and my love for cooking, health, and conflict resolution.

Finally, besides "Communication! Communication! Communication!", cooking together has become my favorite pastime with him. It’s the thing I hope we never grow out of and continues bringing us together. 

Veggie Sushi with Adzuki Bean Miso and Onion Soup

So the secret is out: I have a partner. One who loves peanut butter as much as I do. One who loves being in the kitchen and wearing silly aprons. One whose family is as supportive of our being together as much as mine. One who showed me the fascinating world of DnD and vegetarian cuisine. One who wants to take me places. One who makes me nourishing food when I'm feeling less than awesome. One who is all for this adventure we call a relationship.

Us.

Now, I'm not sure if I will go full throttle vegetarian at this point, but at the moment my body is enjoying limiting meat from my diet in exchange for eggs, cheese, beans, and high protein gluten free grains. We'll see how it goes. 

Self-Realization and Without a Plan

I have been wondering almost to an obsession why I have suddenly come to a standstill. Over a week had gone by and there wasn’t a recipe made, a photo taken, or a witty post written. I came back from my long weekend in Florida and discovered something daunting and rather terrifying: I lost my plan.

It didn’t occur to me until a few days ago what my breakup would mean in the long run. Here I was at twenty-two (a month shy of turning twenty-three), in a relationship with a man I thought was the forever kind, and poof! All the plans and dreams that involved "us" were gone, completely thrown out the window as if it never existed. I was feeling, for lack of better words, lost, because for 2.5 years I didn’t have a plan without him in it.

“We must be willing to get rid of the life we've planned, so as to have the life that is waiting for us.” (J. Campbell)

Flash forward to today, with hormones and emotions flaring up, and I have been looking into new plans, short and long-term goals for what I want to do in life. My friend in Florida and our mutual friend in Italy have shown me from their past heartbreaks that the heart does heal and the world will not implode in on itself while being single. By no longer having a plan that includes another person at this point in my life, I can focus on my studies, my health, my passions in conflict resolution/food justice/sustainable development, and learn the beauty of solitude and inner quiet.

 "By creating a strong body and emanating good health, we attract more of the same in our lives." (R. Mars)

The world seems so vast and new, raw and intimidating. I have started to see how much of ourselves we give to others, intentionally or not, and the positive and negative effects it can have on you as a whole. You start to question yourself: Did I make this decision for me or because it was expected? The scary part is wondering whether or not you would know the difference.

You think you know everything in your early twenties. You think you can handle whatever trials the world decides to throw at you, because it is what is expected. I can’t believe how much self-inflicted stress I endured because I felt I didn’t have the plan that suited the expectations of everyone else  (Rosenberg and Gandhi’s (2003) Nonviolent Communication has really helped in this department). Once my old plan literally fell to pieces, the one that consisted of pleasing everyone along with unrealistic goals and expectations I had put upon myself, self-realization and an inner calm overtook me.
 
In a lifetime of gasping for air, in asking for the right to breathe, I could feel my entire lungs utilized and I breathed deeply. I’m sleeping throughout the night and eating healthily. I’m finally acting my age and having fun doing it.

So what’s my plan? To keep doing what I’m doing, and learning all I can along the way. I’m going to continue being inspired by the people life puts on my path, love them and honor them for the lessons they bring. I’m going to give generously, receive fully, and pay it forward whenever I can.

And naturally, with an assortment of recipes coming your way. 

Missing my Kitchen Groove

After the various “Oh, crepe!” moments mentioned in my last post, you could say I’ve lost my groove in the kitchen. Z from Z’s Cup of Tea called it her “kitchen confidence”, and I could relate to what she was going through. My various pancake recipes smoked up the house. My experiments lacked something crucial in every recipe I tried. Multiple meals stuck to the bottom of the pan. Even my fitness regimen seemed to be lacking something.

"You threw off my groove!" (source)

I don’t think I’ve lost my kitchen groove (mojo, confidence, or whatever floats your boat), but it has been misplaced and I miss it terribly.

Despite being thrown off my game, I do what I can to remain positive. For instance, my runs seem less exhausting, and although my face is often the color of a sunburned tourist who couldn’t tan to save their life, my breathing is less haggard and I’m running faster for longer periods. As for rock climbing, I seem to have hit a wall (ha.), but I can go up and down E4s – E6s in seconds and I’m falling significantly more gracefully than before. There’s a V0 that requires transferring from one wall to another with a protruding corner, and then using that wall to get to the incline with the remaining holds to reach the top (this is the same one that I fell off of and my chin and chest collided with each other) that I want to conquer next week. That, and the E5 right next to it that is similar in difficulty, only without an incline.

Anyway, it’s Sunday. It’s daylight savings. We’re one hour closer to next week, and one hour closer to getting my groove back. In the meantime, I want to share a lunch I had earlier in the week that’s high in protein, keeps you full, and isn’t wasteful of leftover batter.

I was intrigued by Ashley’s use of leftover French toast batter and turning the “cinnamon eggs” into scrambled deliciousness or a fruit-filled omelet with yogurt on top. Still in a crepe-y mood, I wanted to embody that waste-not mentality. Thus, after lightly breading egg washed chicken tenders in almond meal, I combined the remaining amounts of both and turned it into a wrap for my chicken, green beans, and leeks.

Garnish with tomatoes, and you’re good until dinner.

Almond Meal Omelet with Chicken Tenders, Green Beans, & Leeks

3 (187 g) Chicken breast tenderloins
1 (52 g) Egg
52 ml Water
25 g Almond meal
Pinch of salt
85 g French cut green beans
50 g Leeks, thickly sliced

Preheat the oven to 350ºF.
Cook the green beans and leeks together until tender over medium heat and set aside.
Mix together the water and egg thoroughly to make the egg wash, and set aside in a bowl.
Pour the almond meal in another bowl of the same size and also set aside.
Generously dip the chicken tender meat into the egg wash and transfer them to the almond meal to cover with “breading”.
Lay them on a baking pan lined with greased tin foil and bake for twenty minutes*, flipping them over midway (you can also pan-fry them, in which case the oven is not needed).
Combine the remaining egg wash and almond meal together, and place a skillet pan (or in my case, a cast iron griddle pan) over medium heat.
When ready, grease with your cooking oil of choice and cook as you would a crepe (the crepe is very delicate, so I found it handy putting it under the boiler instead of flipping it).
When cooked all the way through, plop the crepe onto a plate, line the center with the greens and the cut up chicken tender pieces, and cover the edges.
Garnish with tomato wedges and your favorite savory condiments like sour cream or mustard.

Serves 1.

*Note: the meat came out a tad dry, and I'm not sure if it had to do with me leaving them in the oven after it was turned off or if it needed something else to keep it moist. Thoughts?

Self-Confidence and the Realities of Summer: Chicken Waldorf Salad

“At the center of your being you have the answer; you know who you are and you know what you want.” Lao Tzu said that over two millennia ago, but it has only resonated with me this summer. All the same, I say this every year: this is the summer that I am changing the most significantly. It was the summer before college that I said was the most significant in my life. It was the summer after my freshmen year that I said was the most crucial to how I perceived the world. The summers after my sophomore and junior years were the most important in defining family. And what about this summer, the summer before my last semester as an undergrad, the summer that is over one-thirds over?

This is the summer I grow into myself.

I would say that this is the summer I grow up. I would also say this is the summer I become an adult, but that just isn’t true. I have had adult grievances and responsibilities and joys for a while, situational or otherwise throughout my twenty-one odd years of life. Adulthood is just a metaphor, because I don’t think adults even know what it means to be one. But for some reason, children have childhood perfected, until someone comes along and tells them they aren’t doing it right. Then these children are forced to grow into themselves prematurely or a little late in the game into skins too large or too small, because these adults thought it was best, because they believe they are the only ones who know best. Maybe they do know what’s best the majority of the time, maybe all the time, but maybe I do too.

Then again, when everything is happening at once, you have to turn to those who’ve been doing this a lot longer than you. At the same time, you desire balance and compromise. You want to appear competent, responsible, and reliable in all the things you’ve set out to do. You want to be respected as the adult you’re growing into, trusted into doing it your way.

To quote my younger self whenever Mama Dazz asked me why I was crying: “I’m upset because I am not getting my way.” Ah, the honesty of toddlerhood. If only the “adult” me was so honest and insightful.

The universe is a precise and consistent entity. Ask and you shall receive. It doesn’t always give you what you want when you want it, but it can give you what you need when you need it… if you’re observant enough to recognize it and patient enough to wait for it.

I may want to do it all my way, but I also have to trust in others when they’ve had experiences similar to mine. At the same time, a little confidence in me wouldn’t hurt either.

Chicken Waldorf Salad

32 oz Cooked skinless chicken breast meat, cut into manageable chunks
2 Granny Smith apples, cored and finely chopped
30 g (1/4 c.) Raisins
40 g (1/4 c.) Almond slivers
3 Celery stalks, diced
1 Red onion, diced
3 Garlic cloves, diced
1 tbsp. Ginger, crushed or finely chopped
2 tsp. Black sesame seeds
6 oz Lassi (or Kefir)
1 tsp. Dijon mustard
1 Lemon, juiced
1/2 tsp. Sea salt
1/4 tsp. Pepper

If the chicken has not been cooked already, steam the meat until fully cooked, let it cool, then chop it up and put into a large mixing bowl.
Fold in the chopped apple, raisins, almond slivers, onion, garlic, ginger, and sesame seeds to the chicken until thoroughly combined.
In another bowl, blend together the lassi, Dijon mustard, lemon juice, the salt and pepper.
Pour the sauce over the dry ingredients and stir until coated.
Serve on top of lettuce.

Makes 6 – 8 servings.