As winter takes its last few roars before slinking into the shadows, I think it is a good time to give some love to carrots. And not the pretty slim carrots, all fresh and new with springy, curly tops and possibly available in a rainbow of colors. Those are, of course, wonderful. But those are a discussion for another day. I am talking about those strong and hardy ones we have in winter. Possibly available by the kilogram in plastic bags. Those ones.
Winter can be a haunting time. Some days, the world becomes alien and unfamiliar. Color is drained from the sky, the forests, and the earth, leaving behind only a scale of gray. Darkness lurks behind every corner. And sometimes, it drags a bit of sadness with it.
Fun rituals can help, however. Every Wednesday we have "Super Cozy Science Happy Hour," in which we try new beers, light candles, and watch astronomy/physics shows on YouTube. Tackling a new project also helps - I am currently trying to needlepoint a table runner with constellations. Because dork. And food definitely helps. Definitely.
Almost all of those warm and comforting foods - the meals that are a refuge for a winter-weary soul - start with carrots. From beef bourguignon to spaghetti bolognese to shepherd's pie to coq au vin - those classic dishes all have carrots. Those long, thick orange root vegetables, once cooked, become the basis of winter's sanctuary right there in your own kitchen. Their buttery soft, orangey sweetness becomes part and parcel to home. A beacon of hope and love in the darkness.
Showing posts with label produce. Show all posts
Showing posts with label produce. Show all posts
Tuesday, February 16, 2016
Tuesday, January 12, 2016
On clementines
It has been said that beer is proof that god loves us and wants us to be happy. Perhaps so - as an agnostic, I suppose I could find the reasoning compelling! But if it is indeed true that there is a god, then I submit the existence of clementines as proof that said higher power has a profound appreciation for beauty.
The clementine possesses an exquisite beauty - so wonderfully deep and orange and vibrant (especially when one finds them with the leaves still attached), standing as a contrast to the season's quiet darkness. Amidst the fog and the mist and the snow and the darkness, these small orbs of joy remind us that color and sun will be returned to us. It is this contrast of life and stillness, color and lack thereof, joy and sedation that makes one convinced that it had to be planned.
Clementines not only possess beauty, but taste and ease and portability. Only a perfectly ripe clementine can give one that delicious rush of sweet and sour juice, a most energizing and invigorating force. And it arrives in its very own packaging, it is so easy to peel and take anywhere without worrying about it becoming mush at the bottom of your purse - this is, without a doubt, a most special kind of fruit.
A world without clementines would be a bit dimmer, a bit less vibrant, a bit less delicious, a bit less marvelous. At the end of the day, I can't actually know that a higher power exists just based on the presence of clementines in our world. But I like the idea.
The clementine possesses an exquisite beauty - so wonderfully deep and orange and vibrant (especially when one finds them with the leaves still attached), standing as a contrast to the season's quiet darkness. Amidst the fog and the mist and the snow and the darkness, these small orbs of joy remind us that color and sun will be returned to us. It is this contrast of life and stillness, color and lack thereof, joy and sedation that makes one convinced that it had to be planned.
Clementines not only possess beauty, but taste and ease and portability. Only a perfectly ripe clementine can give one that delicious rush of sweet and sour juice, a most energizing and invigorating force. And it arrives in its very own packaging, it is so easy to peel and take anywhere without worrying about it becoming mush at the bottom of your purse - this is, without a doubt, a most special kind of fruit.
A world without clementines would be a bit dimmer, a bit less vibrant, a bit less delicious, a bit less marvelous. At the end of the day, I can't actually know that a higher power exists just based on the presence of clementines in our world. But I like the idea.
Tuesday, January 5, 2016
On hidden treasures
Some produce is inherently charming. Strawberries, blueberries, clementines, shiny green apples, romanesco cauliflower - all of these draw you in so easily, so readily. How can one not resist those juicy red berries, those fun little dark blue orbs, those bright and happy citrus fruits (especially when sporting cute little green leaves on top), those crisp and proper apples just waiting to be picked, the bizarre and captivating brassicas - they are all so easy to love and eat and bring home and adore.
Others sitting in the produce aisle or at the produce market lack these innate charms and instant lovability. Some are even prickly - both figuratively and literally. Like, for instance, the pineapple - an alien-looking creature that is quite difficult to grasp and sports a brownish-yellow coat. Or the artichoke - so sadly green and pointy. Or the kiwi fruit, looking like fuzzy pieces of poop. Or the turnips and rutabagas and celery roots - the lowly root vegetables whose outward charms are so lacking that we generally overlook them, rendering them invisible.
As much as I am a sucker for the produce in the first category, my heart truly belongs to the produce in the second. The ones that need some love and care, to hack away the nasty hard parts to get at the delicious goodness inside. The ones that need some extra prep to make them stand out and proud. The ones that need a bit of extra oven time to sing. Today, I will be sure to fill up my basket with the hidden treasures of the produce world.
Others sitting in the produce aisle or at the produce market lack these innate charms and instant lovability. Some are even prickly - both figuratively and literally. Like, for instance, the pineapple - an alien-looking creature that is quite difficult to grasp and sports a brownish-yellow coat. Or the artichoke - so sadly green and pointy. Or the kiwi fruit, looking like fuzzy pieces of poop. Or the turnips and rutabagas and celery roots - the lowly root vegetables whose outward charms are so lacking that we generally overlook them, rendering them invisible.
As much as I am a sucker for the produce in the first category, my heart truly belongs to the produce in the second. The ones that need some love and care, to hack away the nasty hard parts to get at the delicious goodness inside. The ones that need some extra prep to make them stand out and proud. The ones that need a bit of extra oven time to sing. Today, I will be sure to fill up my basket with the hidden treasures of the produce world.
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