If you don't love where you came from, you can't love where you're going to...

                                                         

Ever since I left the island over ten years ago, the holidays have always been a bit sad for me. Growing up, it was always my favorite time of the year.

Even though there were always presents, it seems to me that it never was about the giving.  I don't remember anyone scrambling to get their "holiday shopping" done the way I hear people talk about here every December.

   It was more about being together.  And eating and drinking together.  I remember Abuelita N stopping by on a random weekday afternoon to deliver her famous apple cake. Always with a doyle underneath, always sprinkled generously with powdered sugar.  I remember aunt M's driver dropping off her fruit cake (the only thing that aunt M ever made that us kids would not even look at, so my dad could delight in it without worrying about it being gone before he came home from work).

   I remember music, and fairy lights, and beer, and rum, and punch (that we would secretly drink when mom wasn't looking).  I remember secret Santas that lasted for weeks,  with the weekly presents being fun and intricate April fool like jokes, exchanged at a different friend's house every week, around  a table full of deliciousness. I remember whole roasted pigs, and a few cousins fighting over who would get the ears or the tail.

                                                        

  But mostly, I remember love, and cheer.  So when December rolls around,  I inevitably always get a little sad and nostalgic.

  Last week, on Christmas Eve, I sat down to write two very special letters (well emails but they were written with the love that one writes a letter...).  One was for all my family and friends back home, letting them know how much I miss them every year during the holidays.

  The other, was for my American family,  none of whom are blood relatives.  They are family by heart.  Some I have inherited from my husband (his family) and the rest, are the friends I have made throughout my time in this country.

    They are the ones I have been with during all the celebrations (as well as the not so fun times) when I wasn't able to go home.  They are the ones that I was at work with, for those countless holidays when we didn't get the day off.  Through time spent together, we bonded, and through holidays, birthdays, breakups and other mishaps, we became family.  Some years, their families welcomed me for their celebrations, and took me in with open arms and open hearts like if I was one of their own. And for that day, and sometimes more to come, I was.  In that letter, I thanked them for that.

 As I reminisced of all those Christmases, Thanksgivings and New Year's spent away from "home" I realized how wonderful they all were.  All of a sudden, I was nostalgic not only for my Dominican family, but for all of my USA family (some of which are not American) that is now far away.  I thought of the many different family (and cultural) traditions I was a part of throughout the years. There was always so much love, so much laughter, so many delicious meals, special drinks, hugs and smiles.

                                          

  It suddenly dawned on me that I have been looking at it all wrong.  Yoga teaches us to be present.  The here and the now, is all that matters, as it is all that exists, and the only thing that is real.  It's not about where we are not, or where we would rather be.  It's about where we are.  Right here, right now.  It's about being present, and devoting all of my energy and attention, to the lovely people that I am fortunate enough to be spending this precious time with. 

  The best way to reminisce and to honor all of the amazing individuals that I have been blessed to spend so many wonderful times with, is to embrace and share the traditions they shared with me, with all of the new amazing people that I have crossed paths with.

I have been truly blessed, for there has been love in every holiday in my life.  And I now humbly share it forward with much gratitude. 

This year, on Christmas Eve, we were invited to our friend J's house.  Her boyfriend, his son, and her dear friend D finished off the guest list.
  She made her grandma's volcano ham for us.  Basted in gingersnaps, bourbon and Dijon mustard, it was unbelievable... 

                                

  Before we ate, J and I cheered with our forks, the way we learned from the W's (from his family's tradition). I made Abuelita N's cake, as I always do, and brought it as my contribution to the meal.

                                         

After dinner, we decorated Christmas cookies for dessert, as part of our host's family tradition...

                                               

On Christmas day, I made pozole in honor of my friend M and his family.  Every year,  his aunt makes it for Christmas eve, and it has now become something I think of every December 24th.

                                                  

  I made Egg Nog, and toasted to E and C as I realized I had forgotten the nutmeg...

And today, as I write these words, I have just finished making some bourbon balls (J's family tradition) to bring over to our friend H's Annual New Year's Eve dinner party, to which we are honored to have been invited to this year.
                             

  May we all be blessed with love and cheer in the new year, and may we realize that although our past is an important part of who we are, and our future holds with it a world of possibilities, it is only in the present, today, in this very moment, that we are able to fully connect with the essence of our true self.

And no matter where we are, or who we are with, may we be love, and may we be peace.
Namaste.

Preparation is Everything.

  When I was in culinary school, my alma mater's slogan was " Preparation is Everything".  I have always held the phrase dear to my heart, because being prepared saved me so much trouble on countless Saturday nights of service.  Whenever I wasn't prepared - whether I wasn't ready on time, didn't make enough of a certain garnish or dessert, or forgot my hair clip at home - things were just so much harder.  And instead of my night flowing with peace and with ease, I would end up running around like a mad woman, stressed out of my mind, hoping with all my heart that it would just end already.

                                  

              

  A few days ago, there was a winter weather advisory on the weather app on my phone.  Something about extreme low temperatures, and things freezing and what not.  Early in the morning, as I had my coffee, I looked at the temperature as I do every day, so that I know what to wear before heading out there.  This is what I saw:

   Incapable of understanding what that meant, my brain started throwing random thoughts at me (mostly of gorgeous sunny beaches and tropical forests with magical flowers).  So I took a sip of my coffee, took a deep breath, looked outside, touched the window, and then went back to the app.  In the settings, there is the option of switching the unit from imperial to metric.  I noticed something I found rather interesting.  It read: imperial - US, metric - World. 
  Seeing that I grew up in the world and not in the US, might explain why my brain couldn't wrap itself around what 2 degrees Fahrenheit means.  So I immediately switched to metric.  And now this is what the screen showed me:

  Upon encountering said image and information, not awake Me had this conversation with herself:
" Ok, so I know that 0 is freezing.  This is -14 feels like -21.  So what you are telling me, dear robot inside my phone, is that right now, out there, where I have to go in order to transport myself to work, it is 14 times colder than freezing, but it feels like it's 21 times colder? Ok, Got it!"

 

  With that in mind, I proceeded to get ready for work.  Needless to say, I took extra care in bundling up that morning, and to my surprise, once I was out there, walking to the bus stop, I wasn't cold at all.  Even though it was colder than I had ever been out in, I was warm and cozy inside of my multiple layers of awesome winter gear, my great winter boots, my lovely wool gloves and a few other accessories (courtesy of myself and some serious research, my dad, my mom, my cousin N, my friends M and S and a few others).  I really was warm, I am not just saying....

                                          

This was quite a revelation.  Preparation really is everything!  Sometimes it is the difference between a smooth Saturday night, and the worst night of your life, and others it is the difference between freezing your butt off or not.

  Sitting on the bus, nice and warm inside my coat, I thought about everything this can apply to and I immediately thought of how overwhelmed people tend to get during this season. And then it dawned on me, that during the Holidays , in order to stay grounded and healthy through the insanity of parties, presents, and last minute shopping sprees, one must be prepared!  And obviously, what better way to prepare than with a consistent yoga practice and some healthy food?

  As I thought of this, I realized that as it applies to food and yoga, preparation can be the difference between a delicious and nutritious balanced breakfast, or a snickers and a coke ( I've seen it!), and between a lovely energizing practice to start your day with, or no practice at all.

   If you think about it, one good choice trickles into another, and one bad choice usually generates another as well.  Which means that preparation can be the difference between healthy, energetic, balanced and pretty awesome day, and a day of feeling hungry, rushed and unsettled.

With that in mind, I put together a list of some of the steps that have helped me be prepared to practice or to cook. I hope these suggestions will also help you be prepared on the mat and in the kitchen. 

On the mat:

1)  Designate a place to practice and if possible, keep your mat unrolled.  If not, at least keep it there, with whatever props you use.  If you use videos to practice, bring your  computer or ipad or whatever your device of choice is to your mat the night before.

                                          

2) Set out your yoga clothes out the night before as well, so when you wake up, all you have to do is put them on. This also helps if you go to the gym or out for a run, while also preventing you from looking like a crazy person because you weren't awake enough to choose the right outfit.

                                                  

3) Determine how much time you have to practice or work out (realistically) and find a sequence that works for it.  Sometimes all you have is 10 minutes.  Maybe consider doing one restorative pose for those 10 minutes.  Remember that any yoga is better than no yoga at all.



In the kitchen:

1) Plan ahead! I know everybody hates this one, but trust me it is the most helpful.  Think of what the week ahead will look like for you and your family and plan accordingly. Don't wait until you come home tired from a long day at work to figure out what you are going to have for dinner. Go to the store on the weekend. If you know you will have to work an extra shift this week, or you have a meeting after work one day, prepare yourself with enough food and snacks to cover for it. 
Make a plan for the week, cook ahead if you can, and make enough for leftovers so you can stretch your meals for several days.

                                     

2) Save yourself some time when you are making lunch of dinner, by doing some of the prep work ahead of time.  If you  take lunch to work, pack it the night before.  When you come home from the store or market, wash and your vegetables right away: peel and cut the squash and put it in a Tupperware, clean and chop the kale and put it in the crisper, wash the fruit, etc....

On this same note, you can cook your vegetables and grains ahead of time and save them in the fridge.  When dinner time comes, you can toss some of the cooked beets, with some quinoa, the kale that's already washed in the crisper, a few slices of avocado and some walnuts, and you have a great side for whatever your protein of choice is, or a lovely filling salad if you are hoping for a lighter meal.
              

                                                                  
  Last but not least in this step is marinating your meats a few days ahead.  It saves you the trouble of trying to time the marinating with dinner time, and it will impart more flavor as it sits longer.

3) Think of preparing your food an assembly line :  If your snack of choice is fruit and yogurt, get a few reusable containers, pack them all with yogurt, throw some frozen cherries or peaches in each, and put them back in the fridge. You'll have all your snacks for the week done in the same time it would have taken you to pack one.

4)   Anticipate cravings before they happen.  If you tend to have a sweet tooth and are looking for sugar like a Tasmanian devil as soon as you are done with dinner (i.e.: me), keep something sweet that is also healthy around (like a bar of dark chocolate).  This way you will be much less likely to go into a binge and eat something you will later regret.  The same goes with snacks throughout your day.  Be prepared for when hunger strikes instead of all of a sudden needing some food and grabbing whatever is accessible (i.e.: that stale bag of chips your co worker left on the desk three days ago).

                                              

5 )  The freezer and the pantry are your friends!  Keep bags of frozen fruits and vegetables in the freezer. In the pantry, cans of beans and jars of tomato and/or pasta sauce are life savers.   If you are short on time and want to cook something tasty and filling in just a few minutes, chop some onions and garlic, throw a few cans of beans in a pot with some tomato sauce, whatever fresh herb you have, and whatever vegetable is in the freezer, season with spices, maybe thin with stock, and voila, a delicious and nutritious bean soup is ready!

The frozen fruit can serve you as either a breakfast emergency ( blender, fruit, yogurt or milk, nuts, and smoothie is served!) or an impromptu dessert (have you ever eaten frozen pineapple or banana? It's pretty much ice cream or sorbet!). And for a last minute healthy side you can boil some frozen corn, and then quickly sauté it in some olive oil and onions.

  These steps might seem like a lot right now, but as with everything in life, once you start practicing them on a regular basis, they will become second hand to you, and the trouble they will save you, will be worth the effort. 
  Much like these signs all over the side walks.  They might be a pain to take out and bring back in every day, but they are helping pedestrians all over Chicago be prepared for whatever might be falling from the sky today ...

' Tis the season to trust

                                                   

   It's snowing! Lovely little flakes are fluttering in the wind. It is technically still Fall, but in Chicago,  as far as the thermometer and the citizens are concerned, it's already full on winter.
  And with the temperature changes come all the logistical aspects of the season: the puffy coat, the over sized boots, the slippery sidewalks, the smartwool socks, the dry skin and nose, the abrupt change in temperature from inside to outside and back, and alas, the flu.

  This year, I am determined to boost our immune system at all cost so that we can hopefully avoid the abominable symptoms that come with the flu.
 I am making sure I fit in my daily yoga practice even on the busiest of days.  I made cranberry and apple sauce and have been eating it daily: vitamin c, vitamin a, antioxidants.  I am using the neti pot twice instead of once a day, and I an diligently taking my echinacea and elderberry drops, among other measures.

                                      

  Our meals are usually laden with plenty of fruits and vegetables regardless of the season, which when you mix them up can add up to a great amount of immunity boosting elements, but I also wanted to find a way for us to be consuming some probiotics on a regular basis.  Even though they don't technially boost the immune system, they do help the digestive system run properly, and after getting a pretty nasty stomach flu, I figured I might need a boost in the healthy bacteria in my gut as well.  However, I didn't want them in pill form, but in food form.

  My husband is currently not eating dairy, so yogurt is not an option.  As I pondered the question, I remembered that a few weeks ago I had gotten a beautiful head of Napa cabbage at the market.  As I wondered if they would still be available this week I made the decision: if I could get another head of cabbage, I would make some Kimchi!

                                                     

  Kimchi is something I have always wanted to make.  I enjoy eating it, and due to its natural fermentation process, it has some great bacteria (mostly Lactobacillus but there are a few others in there as well) in it that that would fulfill my probiotic wants.

  The problem with making it, is that if you are used to canning, fermenting pretty much breaks all of the rules:  instead of trying to kill and or prevent any bacteria from forming, you actually want to provide an environment where it will develop and thrive. When you are making jam, or even pickles, you get to taste them before you seal that jar.  You know for the most part what it's going to taste like when you open the jam a few months down the road.  When you are fermenting something, it will develop the flavor on its own, with the help of the ingredients you mixed together, the bacteria in the utensils you used, and the organisms that are in the air where you are making it.

  Although from an intellectual, chemical and biological standpoint I can understand why, and I can understand why it's good for us, from a practical standpoint all I can think  is: really? Should I really not sterilize this jar before I put this in it?  Is it really ok to just leave it out here even though there is garlic in it?  Am I really not going to get sick?

And it suddenly dawned on me that if I am willing to buy it at the store, in a jar,  prepared by who knows who, or to eat it a random restaurant with extremely questionable sanitation procedures,  why shouldn't I feel safe making it myself?  The answer came as an "aja" moment.  It simply is a matter of trust - or actually, lack thereof  -.

                                                  

My husband always calls me a "corrector". Let me correct him: It's not so much that I am a corrector, but that I am my father's daughter (he is always right) and my mother's daughter (she knows everything).  However, I think the real issue with my correcting nature,  is that like most of us, I just have a bit of a hard time trusting.

  Sometimes I don't trust people, other times I don't trust statements (where did you read that?), and then there are those other times, when I just don't trust myself.  The breakthroughs always come when I realize that more often than not, lack of trust is the direct result of  the need or desire to have control - conscious or subconscious - and that I must relinquish that need or desire in order to trust. Once I do, and I am no longer in control,  I have no choice but to trust - someone else, or life itself -.

   Even when the lack of trust is in myself, once I give in, and I am no longer in charge, I can then surrender to whatever the task is at hand, devoting myself to it, without the constricting and limiting thoughts that come with doubt.  It's as simple as that fun exercise we all did as kids where you let yourself fall in the arms of a buddy without looking back.  Once we let go of the fear, the fall is both liberating and exhilarating.

   A few years back I came across a sentence that has honestly changed my life:  " I trust that everything will unfold as it should as I loosen my grip and allow myself to be open".  For years, I have gone back to it almost daily, because the truth is, I really believe that.  Yet, I have to constantly remind myself that I believe that, in order to give myself a little boost in loosening my grip, and trusting that things really will unfold as they should.
                                                            

 So as I thought of making Kimchi, and I researched the different recipes and variations (like with any traditional recipe, every grandmother makes it differently, and her way is the right way...), I let go of my need to control.

  All I could do was mix the ingredients with care and with love, taste the mix before putting the lid on, and then waiting and watching as I let nature do its thing. As the pungent scent of fish sauce and korean chili powder filled my kitchen air, I started to trust that my Kimchi would be safe.  That it would be full of lovely microscopic organisms that my body would welcome delightfully, and that above all, it would be delicious.

Trust-ing Kimchi

1     ea          Napa Cabbage, sliced in 1 to 2 inch chunks
1     G           Water
1/2  cup        Kosher Salt
1/8  cup        Fish Sauce (omit for a lighter flavor)
1/3  cup        Korean Chili Powder
10   ea          Garlic Cloves, minced
2     TB        Ginger, minced
1     bu         Scallions, sliced
1     ea          Daikon Radish, peeled and shredded

                                                     

Preparation:

Dissolve the salt in the water.  Submerge the cabbage in it in a large bowl, and weigh down with a plate or lid.  Let sit for one to two hours.  Drain the cabbage and squeeze out the excess water.
                                          

In a separate bowl, mix all the ingredients together. 

                                

  Add the cabbage and using your hands (you might want to wear gloves here ) mix it very well. 

                                       

Transfer to clean jars with lids.

                                     

   Place in a cool, dry place (I put it in the pantry) to let it ferment. Check it daily for one to four days.  Once it starts bubbling it is ready.  Mine took 3 days.  Once it's ready, refrigerate, and consume within three weeks. Enjoy!

Notes: There are several different ways to make Kimchi. For my first time I decided to soak the cabbage in salted water, and to not use any dried shrimp.  If it's your first time as well, this recipe proved to be fool proof. The beauty of Kimchi is you can try a different version every time, and enjoy different, delicious probiotic results :)

Let go and let flow...

                                                                       

" In the end, only three things matter: how much you loved, how gently you lived, and how gracefully you let go of the things not meant for you."  Buddha

I read this quote a few days ago.  It resonated with so much of what I believe in.  I felt a surge of peace, knowing that I have been blessed to have loved so much.  In the grand scheme of things, I have lived rather gently as well.  But when it comes to letting go, I am not that great, at all.

In yoga, letting go is one of the most emphasized lessons.  We are urged to let go of our fears, of our expectations, of our pre-conceived notions of how things should be.  We are taught to accept, and allow.  To witness and to trust.

I am proud to say that when it comes to the little things, random banal daily challenges, my practice has helped me to let go.  I no longer obsess over the cleanliness of my home the way I used to (although I bet my husband would argue on this one).  I no longer stress too much  when I miss my bus, or when I accidentally make a giant mess while I am in a hurry.  I breathe, I let go, and I deal with the issue at hand in a calm and kind manner.

However, when it comes to more meaningful, life altering matters,  as hard as I try, there are just some things that I find extremely challenging to let go of.

  Even when my intellect can reason with me that everything happens for a reason, or that it's "good ridance" as Americans always say, I find myself holding on to moments, to words, to emotions, to experiences. 

A great yoga teacher once said " how you practice your yoga is how you do everything in life".  In many ways, I definitely agree with that, and to me, it also applies to cooking.  So, true to form, when it comes to food, I also have a hard time letting go.

I have a hard time letting go of a specific ingredient that I forgot to get and needed (or wanted) for a recipe or meal.  I have a hard time letting go when a dish that didn't come out just right.  I have a hard time quieting down my ego (and my taste buds) when I forget something and overcook it, or when I completely forget to serve something I prepared for a special meal (believe it or not that has happened on more than one occasion).  And I have a really hard time dealing with the fact that sometimes the kind of wholesome natural foods I eat on a regular basis are rather challenging to find.

                                           

   Last week, I was in Doral, Florida.  Northwest of Miami beach, this small community is best described as what my husband likes to call "strip mall Florida".  I was spending a few days with my mom, my grandma and my dad, as I helped take care of my mom after she had surgery to fix a broken wrist.  In my opinion, the most important element in healing both the body and the spirit, is food prepared with love. 

 So, one of my main jobs while in Florida was to cook for them.  I knew once I left, their diet would consist of ham and cheese sandwiches, and they are all fine with that.  But while I was there, I would make sure they had delicious and nutritious food to indulge in. 

   The first night, straight out of the hospital, everyone still very tired from their respective flights and in my mom's case from having major surgery, I scavenged through the cabinets in the apartment.  This apartment is used only when people in my family travel to Miami for a few days or weeks at a time.  Nobody lives there (my grandparents have had it for years) so the pantry is not very well stocked - a few boxes of wheat thins, a bag of chips, some random spices, tea, agave, honey, oil and vinegar and plenty of booze - the basics I guess.  One thing it does have however, is the most amazing vintage china EVER!

                                               

 I was lucky enough  to find an onion and some garlic in the freezer (thank you aunt Maggie!), some pasta, and some frozen tomato sauce.  I chopped the onion and the garlic, threw it in the sauce, added a cinnamon stick, some dried oregano, a little honey and some salt and pepper, and we were good to go.  Not my best meal, but pretty damn good for what I had to work with.
The next morning, my dad and I headed to Publix, which was the only grocery store less than a twenty minute drive from the apartment, in search of ingredients for my task.

  It's always interesting for me to see what is available at a classic American supermarket.
 When, like me, you are used to shopping at your local farmers market, or at a co-op grocery, or even at Whole Foods, a regular run of the mill American supermarket can leave you a bit lost.  There are at least 3 or 4 more processed food aisles than what you might be used to, there are no options when it comes to pastured or sometimes even free range meats (a lot of "natural" meats out there, which we all know doesn't mean anything...), and once you finally make it to the produce area, you may find that the fruits and vegetables displayed there are not at their best.  But, as I learned when I was a volunteer at the Red Cross in my early teens, you work with what you have at hand. 

As I prepared the various dishes I had decided upon (Tom Kha Ga, Curried lentils and Quinoa, Lime and Pomegranate Tuna Salad, Brown Rice) I thought about the choices I had made.  That tuna was most likely not dolphin safe,  those chickens were not even close to free range...The peppers weren't organic... But the fact of the matter was, there was nothing I could do about any of it.  I would prepare it with the greatest care, I would pour all my love into it, and the result would be delicious, and although not as nutritious as it could be, still nourishing.

You see,  if I held on to the fact that these ingredients were not the best per se, then I would have poured that negative energy into what I was cooking, and I would have depleted my energy by focusing on it, instead of using it to prepare these meals, and to focus on all the other extremely important tasks at hand (such as watching my perfect little niece nap).  Instead,  I really let it go.  I chopped, I seasoned, I seared, I tasted, I adjusted, I simmered, I tasted again.  Everything was great.  Everything was tasty.  Everything was nourishing.

                                                      

  Those meals made me realize, that if I could let go of that, I could certainly let go of all the other things I am currently holding on to. 
  Some are completely out of my control.  Others, no longer serve me.  And yet others are just really not that important.  By holding on to them I am wasting precious energy that I could be using for other, more important and beneficial things.  In contrast,  by letting go,  I will be free.

So, I choose to let go, or as my friend L told me once "Let it go, and let it flow..."

Letting Go Curried Lentils

1   cup              Lentils (any kind will do)
1   small           Onion, diced
2   cloves         Garlic, minced
1   ea                Cubanelle pepper, diced
1   TB              Curry Powder (I used Jamaican)
1   TB              Olive Oil
1   tsp               Apple Cider Vinegar
                         Salt, Pepper

In a small saucepan, heat the olive oil on a medium flame.  Add the onions, garlic and pepper,
and cook until they are soft and fragrant but not brown.  Add the lentils and the curry, and toss around with a wooden spoon until everything is mixed well and the lentils look shiny from the oil.  Add about 1 1/2 cups of water (enough so that the lentils are completely submerged and there is about 1/2 inch of water above them) and season with salt and pepper.  Taste the liquid and adjust the seasoning accordingly (you can add more curry if needed).  Bring to a boil and immediately turn down to a slow simmer.  Simmer gently until the lentils are cooked through (they will still be whole, but will be soft when you try them).  Add the vinegar and taste.  Add more if needed.
Serve with some cooked quinoa.  You can garnish with chopped cilantro and pomegranate seeds if you wish.

Take only as much as you give, and always give back more than you take...

                                                           

   A few years after I started practicing consistently, these words presented themselves to me during meditation one morning.  Ever since, I have closed my practice with them, contemplating all the different situations to which this sentence applies to: relationships, my body, my soul, the earth....As well as trying to apply them to as many of them as possible.

  We live in a world where we are constantly judged by how much more we have and how much we can: how much more can we buy, how much more can we work, how much more can we fit, how much more can we do.  Our worth or our success seems to be measured by how much in so many ways.

 But rarely is how much we are giving back considered.  How much do we give back to our bodies, for kindly operating the way that they do every day so that we can in turn do more?
How much do we give back to our loved ones for everything that they do for us? How much do we give back to our bosses, or our employees, or our coworkers? How much do we give back to our planet?

                                         

  And what is the relationship between how much we take and how much we return?  Those words  remind me daily to try and balance that energy.  To consider how much I am returning, and not only how much I am taking, for
" Your worth is not measured by what you have, but by what you give".

Years after these words entered my life,  on a morning like any other, as I closed my practice and repeated the mantra sending its sensory vibrations into the air, one of them shifted.  Instead of "give" the word "need" nestled herself in there.

    Take only as much as you need, and always give back more than you take...

huh... Interesting...
   I pondered how this change affected the meaning of the sentence.  I considered how much I take. Do I take only as much as I need? Not really... Do you? Probably not...  And again, to how many areas of my life can I apply this sentence? Relationships, check; work, check; my body, check; the world, check.

   I now change the word randomly, depending on what is currently arising in my life, and a few days ago, while I was at the farmers market, I was able to practice what I preach to myself everyday.

  It was probably the last outside market of the season.  The fall is in full swing, with rainbows of leaves fluttering in the wind everywhere I look, and yellow, brown and silver blankets crunching under my feet in every corner. But it is getting cold.  Really cold.   Winter will be upon us soon (maybe sooner than some want it to) and not only will the market move inside, but there will be less and less fresh produce every week.

    So, as I walked through the stalls, and saw the many fresh colorful vegetables still available,  I wanted to get them all.  I stood in front of the most beautiful yellow carrots I have EVER seen, and picked up a bunch.  As soon as I touched them I remembered I had just bought a bag of carrots two days prior at the store. I really don't need these, I thought as I carefully placed them back on top of the stack, while the other voice in my head kept telling me how absolutely beautiful they were, and how sweet and delicious they must be.  The next farm had some young fresh ginger.  Gorgeous!  This would be great for a chicken stir fry!  Wait isn't there an old shriveling piece of ginger in the crisper? Yes there is indeed...
               

   So, as the two voices inside my head had a bit of an argument, I used my third one (I have as many as I need for any given situation...) to run a list of the contents of my crisper and my pantry in my mind.  All I needed were some onions, and one vegetable.  Nothing else.  I decided on peppers, since realistically I won't see local fresh peppers anytime in the near future, while root vegetables still have a little bit longer to go,  and I grabbed some onions, and that was all I got (well, that and everything I needed for the day of the dead dinner I was cooking that evening but that's another story :)).
    

 Food is one area of our lives where we pretty much always take more than we need (and than we give for that matter).  On a large scale we are not taking proper care of the earth and the soil, we are not giving back to the people growing our food (proper wages, political support, etc. ...) we are not even consciously thinking about where our food comes from and what is going to happen because we keep taking more than we need and give.

                                                          

 On on a small scale, there is usually much more than we need on our plate, in our pantry, in our refrigerator.  My friend P's mom used to say that throwing away food is like throwing away money, but that no one would throw away a $20 bill.  She was right.  Money, energy, resources...

  Yet, we always tend to over buy, or cook more than necessary, or just simply forget that last little whatever we had in the fridge until it has gone bad.  Meanwhile, while we bathe in this surplus of plenty, there are so many people and places that don't have enough.  It's not a matter of guilt, it's a matter of respect.
  I think we really need to reconsider what we put in the cart, in the bag, and on the plate, and my market experience reminded me to do this as often as I can.

  Tonight I prepared a lovely chicken stew.  I used up the old ginger, and some sweet potatoes and cilantro I had from the previous week's market.  I used some leftover coconut milk and miso that were hanging around in the fridge. I used the carrots I had bought at the store, and last but not least the colorful peppers, last of the season.
  I was able to take my mantra off the mat and into my kitchen, and in return ended up with some delicious food,  and my crisper is now empty, ready for next week's market bounty.

I hope this will inspire me to  " take only as much as I need, and always give back more than I take" in many other areas of my life, one small step (or chicken stew) at a time...

                                     
Mantra Chicken

6      ea     Chicken Thighs, skin off
1      ea     Onion, sliced
4      ea     Garlic cloves, minced
1      TB    Chopped ginger (fresh or shriveled)
1      ea      Sweet potato, cut into 1" chunks
5      ea      Carrots, cut into 1" chunks
8      ea      Small mixed peppers, sliced (or 3 large ones)
2      cups  Coconut Milk
2      TP     Miso
2      ea      Limes, juice and zest
1      ea      Orange, segments and the leftover juice
1/2    bu    Cilantro

Note:  The miso is salty enough on it's own, so I only salted the chicken.  Depending on what miso you use or how much you add, you might need to also salt the vegetables as you sauté them.

In a blender, mix the coconut milk, cilantro, lime juice and zest, orange segments and juice and miso until thoroughly blended.  Reserve.

Pat dry the chicken thighs and season them with salt and pepper.
In a hot skillet sear the  thighs in coconut oil until golden brown on both sides.   Set aside.

                                 

                          In the same pan, sauté the onions, garlic and ginger until fragrant. 

                                            

  Add the peppers and cook until the peppers are soft but not brown.  Add the sweet potatoes and carrots and cook for about two minutes, stirring often.
     
                                     

 Add the liquid and the chicken and bring to a boil.  Immediately turn down to a simmer and simmer gently for about an hour, tasting and adjusting seasoning about half way through.  As the stew simmers, the chicken will get moist and soft, and you can use the wooden spoon or thongs to break it into small pieces.  Enjoy over brown rice.

Change is the only constant

                                                                                

  Growing up in an island in the Caribbean, one rarely experiences seasonal change.  Sure, there are certain flowers that bloom in May, and certain fruits that do best in the Summer, but it's pretty much hot and muggy all the time, and the vegetation is lush and colorful year round.  Maybe because of that, I have always been fascinated by the changing seasons.  I remember my first fall in Hyde Park NY. It was so energizing and fascinating to see the colors change almost daily, and to see in one street, several different colored trees, and the contrast of their leaves against the blue or grey sky. We lived close to a national park named Burger Hill, and I would go on early morning hikes to see the foliage from the top of the hill.  Breathtaking.

When I moved to San Francisco, although the weather patterns were quite different than those of the island, the seasons were still not very pronounced when it comes to temperature.  Food, however, was a completely different story.  I learned to recognize the seasons based on what fruits and vegetables were available at the farmers market, and as years passed, and I became more and more familiar with them, I was able to anticipate the arrival of some of my favorite based on what month or week it was.

                                                       

Eating seasonally and locally have become quite the trends in our day and age.  It seems as if both words are thrown at us left and right in devious marketing schemes, meant to promote companies and benefit shareholders.

   However, eating locally and seasonally really is good for us:  If we  really try to go back to basics and focus on procuring the bulk of our food from local sources we will therefore support small businesses and our local economy and community.  And as far as the seasonal goes, we can get so much more from our food by committing to enjoying what is available now.

Let me explain.  I grew up in an island where apples can't properly grow.  Due to imports, we could buy apples back home.  My mom rarely did, but my aunt always did.  Falling true to the human adage of "the grass is always greener" my brothers and I always wanted apples.  However, I don't actually  remember ever enjoying one until I finally had an apple from an orchard in Vermont.  The ones from my childhood were bruised and mealy, and the skin would peel off from the flesh when you bit into them.  They were dry, and honestly didn't really taste like much (no comparison to our sweet, juicy, flavor exploding mangoes, papayas or pineapples...).  So, eating apples in the Dominican, that have been picked weeks prior to being sold, hundreds or thousands of miles away, is not a very flavorful experience.

On the nutrition front, we are on the same boat.  When fruits and vegetables are at their peak of ripeness, they are at their fullest of nutrients.  From a biological standpoint, if allowed to grow and mature on the plant, they will develop the most nutrients possible, indulging in their natural processes, taking what they need from the soil, water and sun in order to thrive.  The moment they are picked, their nutrient content starts to slowly diminish, as they no longer have these sources of energy to allow them to live.  Basically, once they are picked, they are dead.  And the closest you can eat them to when they are alive, the most you can get from them.

                                                       

  Then there is the variety aspect. When we always eat the same things, we always get the same nutrients.  So in order to meet most of our nutritional needs from our food, it is imperative to eat a variety of foods.  If we eat seasonally, once again, there is no choice but to switch things up.  In doing so, not only do we benefit from a health point of view, but also from a creativity stance.  Much like the changing seasons, which make you notice a tree that you never had before when it's in bloom or when it's leaves are changing from a certain shade of green to countless shades of yellow or orange, eating seasonally makes you get out of your comfort zone and eat fruits and vegetables that you might have never thought of before, and in turn discover something you might love.  And then, you get to enjoy it for the season, and look forward to next year, when it shows up at the market again. 

                                                  

                         

  Last week, there were some chestnuts in the CSA box.  I have probably had chestnuts only a handful of times before, and it has almost always been at a restaurant.  Having no idea how to approach the hard shelled little balls, they have always been a mystery to me.  A very delicious one, but still, a mystery.  I remember my first thanksgiving in the states, at my friend E's family's home in upstate NY, we roasted some chestnuts.  For whatever reason, the procedure completely escapes my mind, and all I can remember about the cooking process is looking at E's back as he pulled the chestnuts out of the oven, their sweet scent filling the air.

  This week, more chestnuts arrived.  I decided to tackle the task at hand and researched a bit on the best way to cook them.  To my surprise, it's not time consuming or hard at all.  After about 10 minutes of preparation, and 45 minutes of roasting time, I had some amazing roasted chestnuts to snack on. I was happy I finally challenged myself to cooking them.

 Below is the recipe for this tasty little treat.   I hope this post will encourage you to notice your patterns and habits, in relationship to both food and life, and to try to break at least one of them, at least once.  You might be pleasantly surprised from what you might find.

Roasted Chestnuts
2    handfuls    Chestnuts (sorry, that was my measurement...)
2    TB            Butter, melted
1    sprig         Rosemary, coarsely chopped
                       Salt and Espelette Pepper to taste (you can use cayenne or paprika instead)

Preheat the oven to 400.
Using a small, but sharp paring knife, core the chestnuts on their round side, forming an x.

                                                 

Submerge them in a bowl of hot water (to help steam them).  Drain and pat dry.  Line a cast iron pan with a large piece of foil.  Toss the chestnuts in the butter and rosemary.  Generously season with the salt and Espelette.

                                       

Place in the middle of the foil piece, and crunch up the edges to form a pouch, leaving a large opening at the top.

                                            

Bake for 30 to 45 minutes, or until the skins start to peel off from the inside of the chestnuts.  Enjoy!