My Almost Vegetarian Moment in Making Stuffat Tal-Fenek (Rabbit Stew)

I still can’t get over the fact that I’m living on my own and by myself. No parents. No Significant Other. No cats. No plants. Every day I come home and it’s just me to look forward to.

For the last month, I have had to deal with a lot of things. While Skyping and connecting with people online or in person, I have struggled with learning to live with myself. It has been both exhilarating and painful, but I’m starting to see my value and honor who I am as a person. It’s sad that I had to move halfway across the world to finally get to this point, but there you have it.

But then you split them into three categories: emotional, mental, and physical. It’s the mental part of the struggles I wish to share a story with you.

Now, everyone who knows me personally is aware that I am fond of rabbits (see photo to your left for proof). As a child, I grew up with rabbit toys I could put into my pockets or cuddle up with at night. Even the live-in nanny I remember the most had a rabbit for a while. In high school, I had this doodle I made called Super Bunny whenever I wrote in yearbooks or drew in class. Besides having kitties as part of the family, I sincerely hope I get the chance to give a rabbit a loving home when I have the ability to do so.

But here’s the thing: I also enjoy rabbit as a protein source. Rabbit is practically all white meat and the industry of producing rabbit for eating isn’t as industrialized as the others (chicken, beef, pork, etc.). In Malta, it’s a very small farmer sort of deal. For one thing, there just isn’t the space to have a lot of animals on any given farm, and for another, rabbit seems to be only available by demand. You don’t have factory-like conditions for slaughter. You just have single families making ends meet.

For weeks after I came to the island, I was so excited to make stuffat tal-fenek, or the traditional rabbit stew of Malta. But every time I went to the store and inquired about getting a rabbit, they were always out. By chance I went to the Lidl by my work and found the butcher nearby to be open (I still haven’t perfected when stores are actually open… there really isn’t a specific time or day). I walked in to find two young boys and their father behind the counter. The man looks like the stereotypical local butcher: tall, big (like a bear or an ox), muscular, and very friendly. I briefly looked around and asked about rabbit, and he said he had some on hand. Ecstatic and not really observant, I purchased one, and he cut up the carcass while I played peek-a-boo with his little boys (two and four) who were giggling behind the counter.

The rabbit was put into the freezer and saved for a day when I wanted to make it. It wasn’t necessarily labor intensive, merely time consuming. I opened the bag and marinated the thawing rabbit in red wine, garlic, salt and pepper. Again, I didn’t really pay attention or think anything was amiss, and did other things while the meat soaked up the liquid.

After eight hours (I should have done longer like the recipe stated, as the meat was still a little dry for my taste), I cut up the veggies and heated up my large pan to brown the meat. I drooled at the lovely smells of searing meat with the tantalizing aromas of the wine and garlic as I placed them one by one in the pan. And that’s when I realized I should have paid more attention to what the butcher put into the bag instead of letting excitement blur my observations.

He gave me the head.

I stared at the pan for a brief moment in absolute horror, resisting the urge to have the infamously comical “Eek! A mouse/spider!” moment. I looked at the glazed look of the long dead eyes, the teeth with the little tongue lolling to the side, and feeling my stomach turn as I considered the possibility of the brain still intact. And I was still dealing with what I thought was the ears. 

(source)

Yup... definitely ears.

Maybe if I had paid more attention and was aware of the head being included as part of my purchase, I wouldn’t have freaked out or almost lost my appetite. But I wasn’t and I  pretty much did. I was suddenly faced with a borderline-vegetarian experience. That head put a face to the meat I was consuming. It wasn’t just a nameless protein source, but once a living thing with a cute twitching nose, floppy ears, and my one of my favorite animals on the planet. A complete being had been in my freezer for a couple of weeks and I hadn’t known.

This is probably the first time I experienced cognitive dissonance so powerfully. I couldn’t handle having a head browning on the pan and threw it away, its eyes looking up at me from the garbage like a horrible zombie nightmare. Then the idea of having a head in my trashcan was even worse, and so I put it out on the curb and went back inside to resume cooking my now faceless meat. As I put the now browned meat, veggies, and the rest of the marinade in a large pot (note: Maltese recipes tend to make copious amounts of anything), my appetite was practically gone. The tantalizing smells were now nauseating. I felt guilty for how easy it was to simply throw away what made me feel so uncomfortable.

Luckily, I had CK and our mutual friends were online and talking on our group conversation via Skype.

Me: So... I'm strongly strongly considering vegetarianism.
CK: Why?
Me: It's because of this stew I'm making. Rabbit stew. The butcher left the head and I didn't realize it. It... startled me.
CK: Eeew.
Me: Yeah... I don't know if it was due to putting cute fluffy thing and dead thing to eat together or that I was legitimately startled by it. I think I'm experiencing cognitive dissonance...
CK [forever the teacher]: Learning is going to happen!
Me: I actually feel the struggle of turning the rabbit into a faceless chunk of meat now…
CK: I'm sorry.
Me: … that I threw away its head because it made me uncomfortable. This is... so new.
CK: Still doing the stew?
Me: Yes. I'm just feeling reflective. And besides, that would be wasteful… and it smells yummy. But it still affected me in a way I've never felt before. I mean, I've seen meat with the faces. I have. In freezers, and when Uncle R roasts a whole pig. But for some reason, this time it affected me. I am more grateful.
CK: *nod*
JS: It may have rattled you because you weren't prepared for it, like you were with the pig roast. You knew that was coming.
Me: yeah...

Later, after much reflection:

Me: Am I a bad person for choosing to eat meat even though I had this realization?
CK: What do you think?
Me: No. I'm not a bad person. [Sudden realization] CK, the reason why I don't eat meat while we visit one another is because I don't -need- to eat it. I enjoy it from time to time, and I can go without it. It's like you and eating gluten free... it's real food regardless. But I'm starting to see that meat was once a living creature with a gender and a life.
CK: I've never thought ill of you for eating meat, Love.
Me: I know that. I'm just worried about thinking ill of myself, which I'm not.
CK: Just be sure that, whatever choice you make, you do it because it is what feels right to you.
Me: Of course, CK. I'd only make a decision like that -only- because it's for the betterment of how I live my life.

The truth is, at this moment I don’t feel the need to go vegetarian completely because it’s so rare for me to eat meat unless I have leftovers. After my experience, I still ate the leftover chicken I had in the fridge. I still heated up the stuffat tal-fenek after a chilly walk home to warm my core with. I still have milk with coffee. I still use eggs in my pancakes. I still add honey to my tea. When CK and I are together, we make vegetarian and gluten free delights because making the foods we love is a way to connect. When we go out to eat, sometimes the only thing I can eat has meat whereas his only option is gluten and/or soy. We don’t think less of each other for it, and it makes enjoying the foods we can eat together that much more special.

But I get it. I do. I understand that there are a number of studies that try to prove that their diet is The Right Diet. I understand why it’s important to know where your food comes from, whether it’s from an animal or from the ground. I also understand this awareness is starting to alter how we look and feel about what we’re eating. There was a passage I read from Jaclyn Bauer’s (2014) “Marshmallow Dilemma: A Vegetarian’s Argument for Realistic Expectations” that really helped me deal with it:

“In the end, I told her everything only mattered as much as she believed it to matter and cared to think that it did. It is of the utmost importance to establish within your own mind your ideologies and morals, but it is equally vital to be flexible to the extent that you don’t drive yourself crazy and make yourself miserable on account of some external thought, idea or action.

Hold on to who you are, but let yourself transform with the passage of time instead of hanging on desperately to one idea you once held on to.”

My concern with going vegan is turning it into a form of control of my diet, and further restricting nutrients and making it a form of disordered eating. With orthorexia just behind me, it has been a slow but steady process from removing ‘good’ and ‘bad’ as labels for food and simply honoring what my body needs. And I know there are many practices out there that are absolutely terrible in regards to raising, maintaining, and slaughtering animals for sustenance. I’ve seen the pamphlets. I’ve read Upton Sinclair’s The Jungle. But it doesn’t necessarily make me want to become 100% vegetarian/vegan, although I respect and honor those that do take that path. If anything, it wants me to help create a better environment for animals that happen to be used for food: less process, more compassion, and with human caretakers that treat them with dignity and respect. Those photos and videos simply show what cruelty humanity is capable of, and how important it is to create localized farming movements and dispatch factory farming practices. It makes me want to show the importance of quality farming practices, perhaps basing the sales by orders and need instead of killing in mass quantities to maintain uniformity and expected waste or loss. 

And it also depends on what you grew up with. Family pets in certain places are part of the cuisine in others. Some people see animals as part of the labor force or as nourishment, and some see animals with the same rights we have.

Perhaps it’s only typical in the United States, but I don’t think the average person thinks of the cow that became the hamburger, or the countless chickens used for spicy chicken wings. And to be fair, we don’t ask what goes into our fruits and veggies either. But something shifted in my awareness, because everything I’ll ever eat from this point on had a path before it ended up on my plate. It had roots. It had a face. It lived. It died.

And for what went into this dish, animal and plant alike, I am grateful for the sacrifice in nourishing me.

Stuffat Tal-Fenek (adapted from this recipe) 

1 rabbit, (approx 1.5kg, cut in small portions)*
Sea salt and freshly
500ml red wine
1 tsp. olive oil
4 garlic cloves, coarsely chopped
2 Red onions, finely chopped
1 790 g can/5 large tomatoes, finely diced
2 tsp. kunserva (tomato paste)
5 potatoes, cut into small (1 cm) cubes**
3 carrots, coarsely chopped
200 g peas, fresh or frozen
6 bay leaves
Pinch mixed herbs***
Marinate the rabbit eight hours to overnight in the red wine, garlic, salt and pepper in the fridge.****

In a large pot, heat the olive oil, and add the rabbit until slightly brown.
Add the onions, carrots, potatoes and the tomatoes, and pour half of the marinade on the ingredients.
Bring to boil on a high flame for about 15 minutes
Add the remaining wine, peas, bay leaves, kidney and liver and simmer on low heat for about 2 hours, stir occasionally and add some more wine if the sauce begins to dry up.
Serve hot with grated Parmesan cheese.

Makes 6 - 8 Servings.

* Mind the head and organs. While the head startled me, I was excited to have organ meat (such as the heart and liver) since they are so high in nutrients.
** Naturally Maltese Derbies. The original recipe called for peeled and quartered potatoes. While it depends on my mood how big I want the potatoes to be, I hardly ever peel potatoes (unless I’m making gnocchi). I’m of the personal opinion that the peel is the best part.
*** Mixed herbs: parsley, rosemary, thyme, mint, basil, oregano, marjoram, pepper husk
**** I would recommend marinating the meat for at least 12 hours or more. Since rabbit meat is so lean, it can be on the dry side. 

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.

Chuck Steak and Vegetable Stew

I have been busy. Wonderfully, fantastically, borderline overwhelmingly busy. It’s the kind of ‘busy’ that gives me breathing room, time to stretch out and do nothing, time to do a certain chore each day, time to work, time to meditate, time to play, time to climb. Within two weeks or so I’ve never felt so in tune with the current in which my life flows; and with school starting up again next week, not to mention possible career/volunteer opportunities to pursue, I will want as sturdy a foundation as I can.

Then there are the unexpected things that happen, the kind that don’t make themselves visible to you until someone else mentions them. The planner that I am and the Bisy Backson I tend to be, the recipes /adventures/product reviews in my posts are almost always preplanned with the intention to share on cyberspace.

This recipe was not a preplanned post. This post had no preconceived theme. In fact, I wasn’t intending on posting anything at all until tomorrow. But there was this rather insistent voice (i.e., Mama Dazz’s) to provide this recipe on Meals with Morri. And you would think by how persistent she was in my posting this it would be this elaborate meal with complicated directions to get it "just so". This could not be farther from the truth.

It’s the easiest thing you could make.

However, I do admit to using an ingredient that may bring a quizzical expression to your face (or at least a “Say what?” expression, although I have no idea what that would look like): black garlic.

Look at the difference!

I first heard about black garlic when I was watching an episode of the Food Network show Chopped. Almost a year later as I was visiting friends in Toledo after Thanksgiving, I saw bags of it at the store while shopping for dinner items and bought it on an impulse.

To say I was hooked on the sweet and savory, smoky almost teriyaki taste would be an understatement. And when I brought the rest home to share with the household, one bite and Mama Dazz ordered sixteen bulbs online. Apparently, someone loved the flavor more than I had.

Black garlic is that sort of ingredient to use sparingly, but is also that sort of ingredient you’re likely to put in everything. Gravies, soups, stews, curries, sauces, and marinades will be enhanced with such depth of flavor that it will be the ending note on the tip of your tongue that will have you wanting  second or third helpings.

Personally, soups and stews have (deliciously) never been the same in this house since.

Chuck Steak and Vegetable Stew

2 – 2.25 lb Chuck steak, cubed into manageable bite-sized pieces
1 Red onion, finely diced
2 Carrots, finely diced
2 Celery stalks, finely diced
142 g Baby bella mushrooms, finely diced
2 Garlic cloves, coarsely chopped
2 Black garlic cloves, coarsely chopped*
170 g Tomato paste
Sea salt, to taste
Cracked pepper, to taste
Water (Or stock, if you prefer)

Combine all the ingredients in a pressure cooker** and fill it with water until it almost submerges the meat and vegetables.
Place on medium-high heat until you can easily blend the tomato paste with the water, and then cover to cook on medium to medium-low heat for one hour.
Turn off the heat and allow the pressure to dwindle naturally.
Carefully remove the lid and stir the stew to check the consistency.
Adjust the taste with sea salt and pepper and pour into bowls.
Serve hot.

Makes 8 servings. 

*If you do not happen to have black garlic on hand (or simply do not prefer it), try using soy-free miso or coconut aminos instead. Click here to find it near you or order it online!

**This seems like the sort of recipe that would do well in a crock pot as well. So in case you don't have a pressure cooker, this may be an all-day make-the-house-smell-amazing sort of recipe. 

Spiced Butternut & Carrot Stew with Herbed Quail Egg Custard Cups

I must have thought up the following post over a dozen times, some of which I had written and some that I had thought up when there was time to spare. I thought of mentioning Mother Nature’s sense of humor, my travels, my hectic schedule, and other things that I feel may interest you (well, to amuse you, anyway). But for the moment, because I’ve missed blogging, I’m just going to say this: I’m glad I have a scale.

Artful Dodger makes a mean Americano!

When I visited the boyfriend in Harrisonburg (he’s at JMU for his job), I sadly left my scale behind. For one excruciating week I tried *shudder* baking by volume, and all my recipes that I had been successful in simply turned out floppish and unappealing. It occurs to me that when I bought my scale, I used it for cooking, yes. On a darker side, I also used it for portion control, so that I’d know just how much was going into my mouth and what. Recently, however, I realized that it helped me keep track of my eating in a positive way. I wasn’t eating nearly enough for my fitness regimen, and last week was quite all over the place. By Friday I couldn’t take it anymore.

I had a decision to make; either I drive two and a half hours to get my scale from him or buy a new one. After weighing the pros and the cons, I figured it would be easier and more economical (I mean, have you seen gas prices lately?) to buy a new one. It’s shiny and sensitive and has that new scale smell, but I still like my old one better. We have a history, it and I. Though I happily say I broke the new one in with not one, but two recipes, and it has become what looks like the beginning of a beautiful friendship.

The stew-soup hybrid (stewp, perhaps?) itself was something I’ve wanted to do for a while now. It’s not exactly what I expected, but it was still delicious. I plan on tinkering the recipe and trying again, because I think it needed more carrot and ginger, maybe an extra helping of coconut milk. But when you blend it, don’t put it all in at once! You’ll end up with a boiling hot mess all over the blender and counter-top. Believe me, I know this from experience.

The herbed quail custard cups were merely an experiment to celebrate the awesomeness of having a scale again. I can’t tell you enough how amazing recipes are with the accuracy of measuring by weight, and then assuring those wanting to try it out themselves that it will work for them also. I do think they were in the oven a little longer than they had to be, but it was something new and different to have for dinner. 

Spiced Butternut and Carrot Stew

567 g Butternut squash, peeled and cut
191 g/ 4 medium Carrots, peeled and cut
16 g Fresh ginger, peeled and cut
4 Garlic cloves, whole
240 ml Water
400 ml Coconut milk
1 tsp. Sea salt
1 tsp. Cinnamon
1 tsp. Turmeric
1/2 tsp. Cracked pepper
1/2 tsp. Cloves
1 Bay leaf

Put all of the ingredients in a pressure cooker or large pot on medium heat until the vegetables have softened.
Pour the mixture into a blender in batches until completely pureed, and then back into the pot to reheat.
Serve hot and garnish with homemade bacon pieces* and a dollop of sour cream.

Serves 4.

Herbed Quail Egg Custard Cups

183 g/ 18 Quail eggs
366 ml Water
1/2 tsp. Sea salt
1/2 tsp. Italian seasoning
1/8 tsp. Powdered rosemary
Dash of Paprika
Homemade bacon pieces*, optional

Preheat the oven to 325ºF.
Place 6 small oven-proof bowls or ramekins in a large roasting pan and fill the pan so that the water comes three-fourths the way up the sides of the ramekins.
Remove the ramekins and carefully place the pan of water in the oven.
Combine the ingredients for the custard (except the paprika and bacon pieces) and blend until the mixture is uniform and evenly fill the ramekins.
Bake for 30 – 40 minutes, or until the custards are almost set.
Remove them to a rack to cool, and either refrigerate to serve chilled later or serve warm.
Garnish with a sprinkle of paprika and bacon pieces on top.

Makes 6 small custards. Serves 3 – 6.

Bacon pieces*: For bacon I can eat, I simply buy thinly sliced pork belly at bake it in an aluminum foil lined baking sheet, covered also, at 400ºF until it takes on a bacon-y crispness. That’s usually when I season it with sea salt and cracked pepper.

Celebrating Summer with Good Intentions Chili

I’ve been wanting to blog since Wednesday, when it was my first official day of summer. It seemed, however, the Universe had other plans. I spent Wednesday moving out of campus housing (which I thought I had until Thursday, but then the RAs came and said I was to have moved out four hours ago), thanks to a friend who’s working for the Burt-man, driving one of the company’s delivery vans. By Thursday, I had made a great meal, but was too tired to do anything but take a photo or two. On Friday, we were expecting a great family friend to stay with us for the weekend, so I had to haul all of my unpacked college life into my bedroom and clean as thoroughly as eight hours would allow.

Naturally, I had to cook something fantastic simultaneously, but the consequence of crashing was not how I envisioned my first days back home would be like.

For the majority of the past few days, I’ve been in the reality between the waking and dreaming worlds. My head ached, my stomach and digestive system were topsy-turvy and tender, and I found myself lying on my stomach just so I could sleep through the discomfort. I was sneezing, lethargic, and all I wanted to do was curl up with the cats and read a Neil Gaiman classic or cook. When I cook, I feel more than useful; I feel needed, a respected member of the household, contributing to those who come under our roof in search of comfort and love.

Cooking, as I’ve discussed, is more than science, but a combination of magic and art and time that can have a repeated outcome if done properly. Cooking is just as therapeutic to the one in the kitchen as it is to those eating the meal. The emotions and mindset you have while preparing a meal is just as important as the individual ingredients going into it. A meal made with good intentions, with love and happy thoughts, tastes significantly better than a meal made with someone who puts their bad day into their food.

Trust me, you can taste the difference.

The reason why I love soups and stews, specifically the chili I’ve known since I was a toddler, is because you can turn it into a meal filled with so much love that whomever eats it will feel a sense of belonging and ease. For each bay leaf or garlic clove or individual spices I use, I like to think of something that I feel the household wants and needs. As I drop ingredients into the pot, depending on the day I imagine with all my being whatever comes to mind: prosperity, a happy home, inspiration, and countless others. By the end of it, not only will the meal taste amazing, but also I feel so much better than I had when I started. 

Good Intentions Chili

16 oz Ground turkey (or whatever ground meat you have on hand around that weight)
1 tbsp. Olive oil
1 Red onion, coarsely chopped
15 oz (1 can) Black beans, drained
15 oz (1 can) Pinto beans, drained
28 oz (1 large can or two regular cans) Diced tomatoes
8 oz Filtered water
2 oz Cabernet Sauvignon (or any other dry red wine)
1 Red bell pepper, finely diced
1 Green bell pepper, finely diced
2 Medium carrots, peeled and sliced into small pieces

For the Spice combination:
1 tsp. Chipotle powder
1 tsp. Cumin powder
1 tsp. Paprika
A pinch of Saffron
1/4 tsp. Pepper
1/2 tsp. Sea salt
1/4 tsp. Sweet basil

Pour the olive oil (or whichever oil you prefer) into a large pot over medium-high heat.
Place in the ground meat and, with a wooden spoon, stir and break apart the meat until completely cooked and separated.
Add the spices to the meat until thoroughly mixed, and then add the remaining ingredients.
Cover the pot and let sit over medium heat for at least an hour (I like the smokiness of cooking it for a period of 3 – 5 hours).
Garnish each bowl with your choice of sour cream, cheese, diced onion, avocado, or all of the above.

Serves 4 – 6 people.

"Love Incarnate" White Bean and Kielbasa Stew

To celebrate the one-month anniversary of this blog, I want to take a moment, step back, and really reflect what Meals with Morri has done for me. As Finals (with a capital “F”) are mere days away, other stresses have come at me in waves to the point that I’m questioning my place in this beautiful world of ours. For one brief moment I wondered if this blog was worth it, and the calorie counting and poor body image reared their obnoxious heads. I know people visit this site, and for that I am honored, but it suddenly occurred to me why I was doing this.

I’m not posting recipes and taking pictures of food for recognition or popularity. I’m not competing with other bloggers to see how many times my blog is visited for the rush of being heard. I have no ulterior motive other than sharing my experiences, insights, and recipes with the rest of the world.

This blog has been in the making for a little over a year. I would have started posting sooner, only I had been in Sweden and simply surviving abroad took up plenty of my time. Then, I dropped my point-and-shoot digital camera, so I waited until I had enough money to buy a digital SLR camera. In the meantime, I adjusted to life back at Mason, purchased a Bento box and food scale. I met up with old friends, making new ones along the way. And after my beautiful camera finally came… well, the rest is history.

On Thursday I witnessed something that upset me greatly. As I was walking to class there was a ring of students around an individual, laughing and calling out things I couldn't hear. The individual was a man who he and others like him go to colleges around the country to “Preach the Good Word”, essentially harassing the students with verbal abuse until one cracks and takes a swing. I kid you not, people use a good idea to sue universities.

It wasn’t the response from the students that angered me, but the fact they gave him the attention he wanted. This man was shouting out words of intolerance, so filled with the h-word and not at all what that philosophy was originally about. When the three-hour class let out for break, he was still there, shouting at the top of his lungs. The students laughed, and I was near tears.

Part of me wanted to buy the man some water (because all that screaming must be hard on the vocal cords). That same part of me wanted to get in the middle of the circle with the man, and do what he was not. I wanted to spread love and shout it to the heavens, to tell every single person (even the h-word driven man) that they are loved and cherished. Images of me spreading compassion and acceptance with encouraging messages tied to flowers came to mind.

I just may do that.

Please don’t misunderstand me, however; a “Good Word” of any idea, religion, or discipline that preaches togetherness and love for the world is wonderful. And I have no problem with people doing that on campus, be they Christian, Agnostic, Muslim, Buddhist, Jewish, Hindu, Pagan, etc. But this man was doing no such thing. He was preaching his agenda where the love should’ve been. What I saw was h-word in action.

You may have noticed that I am using "h-word" instead of spelling out the word that rhymes with plate. This unwelcoming and counterproductive word has no place on this blog (except for here, and it was to quote Charles M. Schultz). This blog is about what happens in my life revolving around health, food, fitness, and healing. That is why I don’t use bad language or discuss politics or religion in detail. Yes, I’m a spiritual person. Yes, I have personal opinions regarding my existence and the world around me. But my answer to that is: “Hey, who doesn’t?”

I want people from all over the world to visit this blog, regardless of age, ethnicity, religion, and political views, for the recipes and a brief moment or two knowing what it is like to be me. Nothing more, wonderful readers, and nothing less. Should I stray away from this promise, if I use the blasted h-word (other than to quote someone), send me an email and I will correct it.

After Thursday’s class let out, you can bet your bottom dollar I was bummed. It was dinner with the folks for the week, and the boyfriend was due to come by. I wanted to make something that was comforting and filling the void where the man’s words had dug into my being. There was so much change happening in my life, and I wanted the open arms only loved ones can give.

I wanted the warmth of a kitchen, and this recipe was exactly what a Down-in-the-dumps Morri needed.

Above all else, lovely readers, thank you for making this month such an enlightening experience, with plenty more months to come.

"Love Incarnate" White Bean and Kielbasa Stew

32 oz Veggie stock
8 oz Dry white wine (I used Pinot Grigio)
1 tbsp. Olive oil
30 oz (2 cans) White kidney beans
16 oz (1 bag) Frozen petite peas
14.5 oz (1 can) Roasted tomatoes with green chiles
3 Garlic cloves, coarsely chopped
1 – 2 oz Frozen chopped spinach
1 Medium white onion, diced
8 Frozen colossal wild shrimp, raw
12 oz Kielbasa, chopped into bite sized pieces
1/2 tsp. Sea salt
1/4 tsp. Pepper 
3 Bay leaves   
1/4 tsp. Sage
1/2 tsp. Italian seasoning
Pinch of Tarragon

Place the ingredients (excluding the shrimp and kielbasa) in a large cooking pot or pressure cooker on medium heat.
When the liquid comes to a boil, add in the shrimp.
Once the shrimp are fully cooked, take them out and set aside.
Place the kielbasa in with the rest of the ingredients and let the stew cook up to an hour.
After an hour (more or less), the beans will have thickened the broth, and will be ready to eat.
Serve with the shrimp and a dollop of sour cream on top (I heartily recommend eating it with gluten-free rice Pad Thai noodles, but it is delicious without).

Serves 4 with a definite chance of leftovers.