Pink of Perfection

After my usual holiday over-doing it, It feels good to board the healthy eating bandwagon. And while it’s probably not the best habit to bounce from extremes (steak, bourbon, gravy to kale, green tea, soup), it does make me very eager for the change. I was stuffed with cookies and cheese; it felt good to alter course.

And perhaps a little surprisingly, it tasted delicious. After my brother-in-law sent me a link to My New Roots, I started seeing this vibrant Danish blog mentioned everywhere. She designed the recipes below, and they’re wonderful.

One of the recurring questions among my friends is, “Why is it so hard to do what’s good for you?” Cause lord knows it usually is. But there’s also a kind of snowball effect once you get going with decisions that affect your well-being. When you feel good, you want to keep feeling good. You begin to even crave the habits that make you feel bright, content, and fluid.

Here’s an example: I spent this past weekend in the first part of an Anusara yoga immersion. Going in, I was a bit terrified of what six hours of yoga two days in a row would feel like. I should have been more concerned about returning to my desk Monday morning and sitting in a chair for eight hours. Come evening, I’d usually rather watch another rerun of Roseanne than put on yoga pants right before bed. But on Monday evening a few pre-bedtime twists was the right choice for me.

The ultimate challenge, I think, is getting from feeling bad, mired in habits, depressed, whatever the current stuckness may be, to finding a spark that can spur a new kind of decision. Many of us tend to force ourselves out of it, but a friend of mine takes a more gentle approach. A change can start with the smallest choice, she says, and we’ll bring it on when we’re ready. I find that comforting. We don’t need to strong arm ourselves into new habits or new eras; it’s not a matter of force, it’s a matter of ease. And when we’re ready we’ll know it. I read a section in a book last night on receptivity that seems fitting:

Receptivity is a practice many people find difficult, because we live in a culture that says things are accomplished primarily through doing. This attitude creates a bias toward knowing, planning, taking action, a kind of predatory attitude toward life––where we decide what we want, focus on it, and go for it at all costs. But how many of us have done this only to be dissatisfied with what we get?  ––The Practice of Wholeness

Being receptive seems to fit beautifully with back to basics and leaning into the life we have now: being open to ourselves, our thoughts, our sense of whimsy, being open to the world around us and the people and obstacles we meet each day, and being open to every joy, quirk, and marvel in the moment to moment moment of the everyday. “We may experience a sense of magic or serendipity––wherein events happen which fit our needs perfectly. Seemingly remarkable coincidences [...] are the result of our receptivity.”

And so back to feeling good, and specifically these recipes. Please, dear heavens, don’t see these dishes or this post as an admonition. If anything, it’s an invitation to be receptive to where you are, wherever you are, right now. If they recipes appeal to your senses at this moment in time, I promise they’re both really lovely. And no one’s saying you can’t eat a little kale slaw before a nice steak, either.

Continue reading “Detox Recipes That Taste Really Good” »

At first I didn’t think I was going to tell you about this recipe at all. I ate it one evening, on the couch, served alongside a veggie burger, and the whole experience was desperately underwhelming. But then the pot of leftovers sat in the fridge for a day or two, and when I finally rose from bed on Saturday where I busy with a summer read until late in the afternoon, I spooned myself a bowl. It surprised me: the cumin, smoked paprika, and lemon had somehow become both pronounced and mellow, mingling with each other like people at a high school reunion after their second round. As life gets increasingly busy in the summer, it’s nice to have recipes like this on stand-by: the ones that make a lot, and can be popped in the fridge and eaten, bowl by bowl, on warm nights. It’s nice not having to lift a finger.

Continue reading “Quinoa with Grilled Zucchini, Chickpeas and Cumin” »

Even though we’ve rolled into June and you might be mostly interested in crisp salads and bright-eyed, open-faced sandwiches, the truth is that there are still some nights, like this past Saturday night, when there’s a nip in the air and a breeze through the window and curry seems a perfect match for the table. Just a like a lady who, upon first meeting, you know is destined to be a bosom friend, there are certain recipes that when they grace your stove––even when you first dip your spoon in for a taste during cooking––you know are bound to be regulars. Since I first made this recipe in April, I’ve made it two or three more times. And that is a rare thing in our house, where I am always seeking enchantment by a recipe both new and unfamiliar. This one, first prepared for me on a weeknight by my friend Alison, is a keeper. It also marks the beginning of my love affair with full-fat Greek yogurt: oh, yes.

Continue reading “Potato and Pea Curry” »

The second reason why perhaps a whole chicken roasted in the oven to golden, unctuous perfection is the perfect meal is this: chicken salad. I’ve waxed poetic before about how a great chicken salad recipe can make you feel utterly lady-like or transport you to the rough, sun-parched lavender fields of Provence. This chicken salad is a different beast. In clothing terms: if a classic, tarragon chicken salad is Betty Draper in a full-skirted day dress, this Asian chicken salad is a thoroughly modern woman wearing a sculptural cuff and a spare, boxy shift. In other words, there’s nothing retro about it.

This recipe is also a good jumping off point for other Asian-inspired flavors––lime and or maybe even a dash of toasted sesame oil. And I can’t help but think that next time around a few other colors would make this salad as beautiful as it is delicious: shredded red cabbage, carrots, or thin slices of red pepper would all be lovely. This is definitely a keeper as is, but there’s also room to play.

Continue reading “Asian Chicken Salad with Snap Peas and Bok Choy” »

You know what I love? That by putting it out there––I am feeling overwhelmed––a chorus of voices rose up in response. Online and off, friends said, “I’m in that same ‘spread thin,’ place.” And while I would prefer for us all to be sipping pink lemonade and playing with puppies, isn’t it comforting to hear that other people get in that place and how they get through it? It reminded me of another truth in life: talking about what’s bothering us––even the worst, most terrible thing–– normalizes it. Keeping quiet can let the problem seep and multiply. But bring it into the light, and we can see it for what it is, and maybe even find the way out.

Take this: I was listing my many complaints to a friend. I wanted to know how and when my life would transform from its parade of stress and takeout food and into equilibrium and equanimity. “One day,” she said, “you might just make one small, tiny choice that reconnects you with that balanced place. Like taking a walk.” Or waking up one morning with enough time to post something on your blog, even if it’s a ramble, because you miss it dreadfully.

So remember that: when you are in the thick of it, in the weeds, and feeling spread thin, there will come a moment when you make the choice to do something small. You won’t be shoving your life into a box of what you think it should be. It will come naturally, my friend said, because you can’t bear to be without it any longer: a deep, mindful breath, a call to a friend, a sun salutation. That one choice might not push you off from the bottom of the deep-end back to the surface. It might not set everything right. But you will have a least given yourself a moment to connect with what makes you feel centered. And it just might do you a world of good.

I recommend this recipe as a potential small choice. It comes together mighty quick with many ingredients you likely already have at home, but it’s got about 40 different vibrant flavors going on that could make your Monday night bowl of pasta a little bit more exciting.

Continue reading “Penne with Charred Tomatoes and Hummus (and Taking One Small Step)” »

It has been three weekdays since I last checked in here, and that breaks my heart a little bit. There were new responsibilities at work to contend with, and a weekend trip to a house in the Texas hill country, where a pale dock jutted into our own private bend of the river. I spent the plane ride home staring out the window at a dramatic, changing sky and made a list of the joys I needed to put on the docket this week: schedule a haircut, buy flowers, have an adventure. My to do list has been so full of errands and duties that in the quiet, still air way up in the clouds, room for fun not only seemed necessary but possible.

On the ground, the view looks different again. I’m back in the thick of it, instead of peering down at my life from an airplane’s view. There is a thoroughly dead bouquet of tulips on the kitchen table (and another in the bedroom), we’re out of coffee, I haven’t been to the gym in days and we ordered falafel for dinner last night. I believe this is what they call feeling spread thin: operating at subsistence level, taking care of what’s most pressing, but hardly having the time or the energy to raise your eye line above the horizon. Known informally among some as “failing at life.”

I’m adjusting to a new batch of change, and lord knows I’m no whizz at that. But it will happen in its own sweet time. I’m trying to remember to be soft with myself, though to be honest, it’s much easier to offer that kind of gentleness to others. It all just makes me long for something simple, like this egg salad. Though really, can someone come over and make it for me? Word of warning: the kitchen’s a mess.

What’s the first thing to go in your life when you feel spread thin (your blog, the gym, cooking)? And how do you eventually get back on track? Is it just a matter of waiting for the storm to ease up a bit? And how do you keep your sanity until then?

Continue reading “Egg Salad with Greek Yogurt and Dill and Feeling Spread Thin” »

It’s a shame this photo doesn’t more accurately convey what a vibrant salad this is. It was long past twilight by the time we sat down to eat. My friend and I had been sitting on the couch with a drink, while our dinner sat at the ready on the kitchen counter. There were no last-minute timers sending me into a tizzy, no final-moment whisking, or facing the hot mouth of the oven in my party clothes. It was the most relaxed entertaining experience I’d had in so long a time, I’d almost forgotten it could happen that way. But this evening reminded me of the sweetness of fine, simple food prepared without fuss. And after a long, cold winter, this salad reminded me of all the freshness of spring.

Continue reading “Farro Salad with Pea Shoots and Goat Cheese” »

I’ve fallen a little bit in love with Martha Rose Schulman’s recipes for the New York Times. Like our beloved Heidi Swanson, she manages to make healthy food feel vibrant and modern––a far, distant cry from tofu eggplant bakes. Martha also features fish and chicken in some of her recipes, a boon for hungry carnivores.

Smoked trout always feels pretty luxurious and continental to me, even more so than smoked salmon. You only need a little for this recipe–one ounce per person––as the fish plays a salty, unctuous foil to fragrant red rice, fresh spinach, and earthy sesame seeds.

Oh, and a word about that red rice: I’m newly obsessed with its lightness, and substituted it in for Martha’s suggestion of sprouted brown rice since I couldn’t find that. Have you ever used sprouted rice? It sounds awesome.

Mostly, though, this recipe reminds me of how I would like my lunch to feel more often: robust and balanced, it’s the kind of meal that makes you feel healthy, very together, and ready for the afternoon (kind of like this radiant millet bowl). Now doesn’t that sound admirable?

Continue reading “Rice Bowl with Spinach and Smoked Trout” »