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Vegan Corn Chowder

Dec 8th, 2011 by

I’m writing this at 5:30AM, after having eaten a leftover pumpkin biscuit, a spoonful of peanut butter, and a bite of baklava for breakfast. This spread is most certainly not my ritual oatmeal, but it’s rather demonstrative of my recent lackadaisical lifestyle.

Solitude soothes me. When stressed, I  savor the opportunity to be alone with my thoughts on a long run or stay home on the weekend and write. I’m also an avid planner and list maker, I like to have control over my schedule. And so my current job really stretches me at times because I am often never alone– 6 days a week, 17 hours a day, my life is intimately tangled with the lives of my employers (whom I love, don’t get me wrong). It has required me to give up a great deal of control, and I’m getting the hang of it, as shown in this morning’s hodgepodge.

I find these daily sacrifices parallel my release of control on a larger scale– my surrender to God. The fall of my junior year (2009) I decided I’d done enough poking and prodding at my future; my methodical plans weren’t getting me anywhere, they were just sterile little to-do lists with no attention paid to the desires God had placed on my heart. So I shed my law school aspirations, began navigating the unfamiliar channels of my heart, and two years later arrived here: stupidly passionate about poetry and applying to 13 creative writing MFA programs.

Once I allowed God to reign, I was presented with an array of possibilities; I began discovering passions I never knew I had, opportunities I never even knew I wanted, but which transformed me nonetheless. Like my summer internship at a church in Minnesota which ultimately produced this blog  and landed me here in Tucson.

As I surrendered more and  more of my life and looked my fear of failure straight in the eye, I felt (and still feel) this indescribable sense of freedom. I have learned to listen to the quiet desires of my heart and to follow them no matter how unconventional they may be, trusting that no matter my successes or “failures,” my life will never be irredeemable.

Because of the sacrifice of the Messiah, his blood poured out on the altar of the Cross, we’re a free people—free of penalties and punishments chalked up by all our misdeeds. And not just barely free, either. Abundantly free! He thought of everything, provided for everything we could possibly need, letting us in on the plans he took such delight in making. Ephesians 1:7 The Message

Holding my life loosely, relinquishing control, taking risks– this is living in the abundant freedom given to me by Christ. As I encounter daily anxiety related to grad school applications, the sacrifices required by my job remind me that I am not in control, and I don’t need to be. I have been freed by an ever-faithful God and life will continue regardless of my successes or missteps along the way.

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Vegan Pumpkin Biscuits

Nov 6th, 2011 by

There are two types of people in this world: people who like brussels sprouts and those who do not.

You can probably guess which category I belong to.

Statistically, lovers of this mini cabbage are more open-minded, creative, and popular with their peers.

Ok, I’m kidding, no research actually exists to suggest such things, but I do think someone’s willingness to eat a brussel sprout says something about them. We grow up learning to avoid vegetables and opt instead for white bread, iceberg lettuce, and food from a box. If we do happen to eat a green or two, we drown them in sauce or butter… because veggies are bland and boring, right?

Somewhere along the way vegetables got a bad reputation, and brussels sprouts bear the brunt of this hatred- they are the poster child for our nation’s anti-whole-food movement. In order for someone to ingest one of these delightful sprouts, they must first overcome decades of societal slander. This is why I think they’re more open-minded.

Contrary to popular public opinion, vegetables aren’t scary, slimy, bland, boring etc. If you’re willing to reject these lies, you will discover that vegetables can provide us with infinite, fresh flavors. We can either continue to feed ourselves with the lie that “if it’s good for me, it must be gross,” or we can venture out into the world of real world and refine our taste buds.

One Biscuit at a Time

Luckily, the couple I work for likes brussels sprouts, and so far my theory is proving to be correct. Despite the fact that they comment on my “strange” eating habits 5x per day, they are open to trying my food. Last week I made them split pea soup with biscuits. Biscuits are a favorite of theirs, so I decided to make them the old fashioned way so as not to disappoint them—i.e. with truckloads of butter.

Then my conscience got the best of me. Sure, they tasted good, but they were so heavy and rich. I knew I could do better.

I saw a recipe on Happy Herbivore for vegan pumpkin biscuits and decided to make up a savory version. I was nervous about how they would be received, but in the end the recipe made six biscuits and I only got one. They were light and flavorful, crispy on the outside and yet totally moist upon first bite, thanks to the pumpkin puree. Home run.

I’m a bit territorial when it comes to my food, so I was a little upset at first, but then I realized what was happening. They loved them. These meat and potato eaters who categorize butter as just another condiment were inhaling my vegan pumpkin biscuits.

I’m on a mission; biscuit by biscuit, I will change the world.

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Roasted Butternut Squash, Caramelized Onion and Cabbage Galette

Nov 1st, 2011 by

Fleet Farm. Flannel. Fish fries.

This is my life now, or at least for the next few weeks. I’m currently living in a small Wisconsin town as a caretaker for a man with Parkinsons and his wife. I have been craving solitude and simplicity and that’s exactly what I’m getting. My heart hasn’t felt this full or content in quite some time.

One of the best parts of my job is that I get to cook for someone else everyday. Each time I sit down to eat a meal I’ve made, something along the lines of “I love myself” or “Boy am I lucky I can cook” runs through my head. I’ve realized that cooking is one way I intentionally love myself– a way of slowing down and saying “You are worthy“– so being able to share my creations with someone else 3x a day is such a blessing.

Last week I was on a Hulu movie kick, I really have no idea why, and it quickly ended when I got caught up in a string of serial killer movies. Prior to the freak fest, however, I watched the documentary Fat Sick & Nearly Dead. The plot involved a man on a juice fast who was traveling around the U.S., demonstrating the power of whole fruits and vegetables and exploring our country’s crumbling state of health. It was basically another movie chastising the American diet and attitude towards food. It made me angry. And then it made me sad. And by the end I was emailing my friend Ang, telling her that we should start a food truck and embark on a journey to feed the world with good food.

I cooked lunch for a high school teacher of mine this past week, and in thanking me she said, “While I am thrilled that you are an aspiring poet…I would certainly keep chef on the back burner. When I eat meals like the one you sent in, I am reminded of what you emphasize on your blog …that food is so much more that just a mindless calorie source.” Yes. Can I get a Hallelujah from the congregation?

I think we sometimes pay more attention to the quality of gas we put in our car than the quality of food we put in our bodies. Behind each hurting body in that documentary, I sensed a hurting heart. Our fast food, fast paced society just doesn’t foster happiness. We are so disconnected from ourselves and others and we don’t feel noticed. What we feed ourselves is important not only for our health but for our hearts. We all want to be noticed, to be loved and made to feel that we are worthy of that love, and when we take the time to make something good for someone, that is incredibly validating.

When we invite friends for a meal, we do much more than offer them food for their bodies. We offer friendship, fellowship, good conversation, intimacy, and closeness. When we say: “Help yourself … take some more … don’t be shy … have another glass,” we offer our guests not only our food and our drink but also ourselves. A spiritual bond grows, and we become food and drink for one another other. -Henri Nouwen

God gave us an incredible tool in food to love and serve ourselves & others…good food can do great things for our bodies and minds alike. I want to cook for you, or at least inspire you to cook something for yourself through this virtual table. And in the meantime, Ang and I will be accepting applications for food truck drivers. Our food truck would inflict more harm than help if either one of us were behind the wheel.

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Roasted Lemon Salmon

Sep 27th, 2011 by

I’ve been thinking a lot about what it means to live our lives as people who love others and want to share the love of Christ with the people we love. As I was reading C.S. Lewis this week, he reminded me that everyone is someone to be loved.

One passage that I simply cannot shake from my conscience asked the question, do we live as though each person we meet is destined for either of two places? Thinking deeply about how to reconcile my life with Christ’s mission always leaves me exhausted and helpless, but I know how important it is to never stop thinking, “these people around me, they are immortal”.

And that immortality that we all possess is at once a blessing and a curse – we cannot allow ourselves to throw opportunities to reflect Christ’s love away. It reminds me John Piper’s mantra, “don’t waste your life”.

All of the sermons in the world could never clarify that axiom enough. I need the constant nudging of what I am reading or the people to whom I listen in order to feel the urgency of God’s work. The swirl of responsibility need not make me feel overwhelmed, because it is God working through me and nothing less.

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Sweet Potato Gnocchi with Creamy Tomato Basil Sauce

Sep 23rd, 2011 by

Friday is usually a housekeeping day for me, when I finally tackle those undesirable items on my to-do, make my bed for the first time all week, and concoct new dishes with an eclectic mix of produce leftovers. So I suppose I should also do some “housekeeping” here and bring you up to speed on my life.

Last weekend I completed another marathon.

Surprised? Bet you didn’t even know I was training! But it wasn’t a marathon of the 26.2 variety. This particular race took place in my (mom’s) kitchen. In one afternoon I managed to make homemade pumpkin applesauce, African peanut soup, spicy parsnip soup, pumpkin chocolate chip cookies, butternut squash “mac and cheese,” and spicy pinto beans. And then I got scolded for using all my mom’s tupperware and cluttering our refrigerator.

When I’m stressed I head straight to the kitchen. I feel most relaxed when I’m chopping onions, mincing garlic, or seeding bell peppers. And while this blog may not reflect the copious hours I spend in the kitchen, I’m working on it! I promise.

Movin’ to Tucson

No, this is not another clever joke. I’m moving to Tucson at the end of November. Its not permanent, I’ll only be there until May, but I’m really excited. I’ll be living with an older couple as a caregiver, and of course cooking, writing, and exploring beautiful Tucson in my freetime.

  I am sad, however, to be missing out on winter running in Minnesota. Who wants to babysit my ninja suit?

 

MFA Madness

I’m applying to a million MFA programs (translation: Master of Fine Arts in creative writing with a poetry emphasis). Yes, 1 million. No hyperbole here. I spent the summer discerning whether or not I should apply, and now that I know I’ll be commitment free next fall I’m moving forward in the application process. I’m taking the GRE next week and I’ll be crafting personal statements as well as assembling my portfolio for the next month or so. Its a bit overwhelming. Guess I’ll just need to continue upping my kitchen time.

 

Well, I think that’s all I have. I’ll leave you with this delightful gnocchi recipe in celebration of the first day of fall! I always thought gnocchi was too difficult to make on my own, but I found that if you can stir ingredients in a bowl and boil water, you can make your own gnocchi. Try it!

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Roasted Root Vegetable Pie

Sep 1st, 2011 by

I watched the documentary No Impact Man a few weeks ago– a film which follows a man and his family as they live a year in New York City with virtually no impact on the environment– and it made me question my own behavior in unexpected ways. They adopted a number of lifestyle changes in order to reduce their ecological footprint, such as ceasing to use their cars and public transportation, going without electricity, and composting. They also restricted their diet to include only food grown within 250 miles of their home, meaning they could only eat what was local and in season. I think there’s a lot of sense to that, but I was quick to dismiss the idea as soon as I felt convicted to apply it in my own life. Give up my daily banana? Sever my relationship with quinoa? No thanks.

But as I began to examine my entitlement when it comes to food, I felt silly. Why must I have constant access to brussels sprouts? Why do I insist on a cup of coffee each morning? These things simply aren’t necessary. I would indeed miss certain foods if I ate locally and seasonally, but I would also discover the sweet and the savory realities of the present season while past crops fade from memory.

And here comes the shift from food to life. You knew it was coming. It always does.

All summer I’ve been mourning the loss of my college identity. My friends, my independence, my accomplishments & plans for the future…they were all striped away upon graduation. I’ve been lonely and uncharacteristically hopeless, but rather than go forth and rebuild I’ve insisted on the impossibility of returning to the past. This summer I was like an ostrich, moving through life with my head buried deeply in the dirt– my college crops had withered but I refused to replant for a new harvest.

Am I becoming lazy? Have I lost all my talent? A few weeks ago I would’ve said yes, but now I’m starting to see that this is just a season. I’m not operating at a 12 on a 1-10 scale, but that’s okay. God is teaching me something through this lull in my life. I can either embrace the silence and uncertainty, accept my feelings of mediocrity, and learn how to love and work with this season, or trade its undiscovered sweetness in favor of a bitter heart.

When you think about it, seasoning is really just a bunch of herbs and spices which allow us to access certain out-of-season flavors. A meal doesn’t rely on seasoning for its substance, the absence of seasoning is not detrimental to the success of the dish, because food is already wonderfully flavored as is. Seasoning isn’t meant to be the meal but rather compliments the food already in front of us.

I’ll go on into this next season of life appreciating the relationships and rhythms that developed while in college, they don’t have to die, but I need to stop obsessing over the past. Rather than attempting to feed off the meager remains of my college experience, I’m now desiring to work with what I have in the present because I believe there is something here worth discovering.

 

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Chicken Korma

Jul 12th, 2011 by

Hot!

Providence is hot and life is a mess. But I’ve been finding time to pray, read and cook. Cooking especially has become part of my escapism – at 6pm I put down my homework and head to the kitchen, not to return for at least an hour or two.

During the past week, Sarah and I have entertained four group meals, ranging from a pasta dinner to a Brazilian style Churrasco (shoo-HA-skoo). For the first time, our cooking helps in bringing people together around a meal.

All of these visitors reminded me of food’s special presence in our lives. It frames occasions but rarely takes them over. It undergirds our experiences, laughter, and sometimes, our coming together to learn about Jesus’ love. It helps support us physically and in some amazing ways, spiritually as well. I don’t mean to overstate my epicurean fanaticism but I think God appreciates the discussion often catalyzed by our stuffed faces and unchewed theology.

So, alongside my developing faith life, I hope God continues to bring people together through the food of our kitchen.

That is why I am sharing my favorite dish of all time (that I can make)! I hope you can appreciate the intensity of my love for Indian food and even during this very very very hot summer, take a moment to let the savory flavor of Garam Masala grace your kitchen – it will certainly bring more than just you to the dinner table.

Ingredients:

  • 2 lbs. white meat of chicken cut into cubes
  • 6 oz. raw cashews
  • 2 tsp. chopped garlic
  • 2 tsp. chopped ginger
  • 1 cup plain yogurt
  • 4 tsp. garam masala
  • 1 medium onion
  • 4 Tbs. vegetable oil
  • 3/4 c. light cream
  • 20 oz. Sanjeev’s curry
  • 1 tsp. raisin
To Make:
  1. Rub the ginger and garlic on the chicken. Pour yogurt over the chicken until it is coated, then add 2 teaspoons of garam masala and mix everything. Let this sit overnight.
  2. Heat the oil over low heat in a pan. Finely slice the onion and add to the oil. Stir the onions but do not let them brown. Add the chicken and stir for about 5 minutes (you do not need to cook the chicken beforehand).
  3. In a blender, blend the cashews and the cream until it forms a paste. Add the curry to the chicken and let everything cook for 10 minutes. Add the cashew paste, rasins and garam masala. Bring to a boil. Season with salt to taste.

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Raw Chocolate Truffles

Jul 3rd, 2011 by

As I sit here typing, a collection of colorful book spines stare back at me, each title irritating the growing ache in my heart. I remember every book I read over the past four years, and I recall not only the content but how it made me feel, the conversations I had with professors and classmates, the paper-writing process, the jokes and friendly debate over highly fictitious literary worlds (“Finding Your Me-ness with Toni Morrison”). I want to return to that reality.

However, college is over. That era of my life is over. And so my question is: how do we say goodbye to seasons of our life while still preserving the person those seasons grew us to be? As I shed my student skin, how do I make sense of and give form to what remains?

I want to chronicle this process of self-discovery, to capture this strange and sometimes ugly process, because I know its important. So the day after graduation I sat down to write and began a little experiment in serial poetry. The basic idea was to write something everyday during the month of May; each day I wrote a new piece, and now that I’ve had some distance from the project I’m going back through them to edit and make sense of what I produced.

I don’t envision the Risen Loaf ever becoming a platform for my poetry, but today I feel like sharing a snippet of this ever-evolving project.

II.
there is a limit
to how many times one can circle
a pot before it knows
and no longer
boils then God
will hang pleated
napkins at your waist,
weed you
from your mattress, to find
a well— will leave you
to tidy grief

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