Wednesday, April 21, 2010

Picklese (Pikliz)

I loved pickled vegetables and I love spicy foods. Haitian picklese, essentially a Habanero infused cabbage slaw, fits into this culinary niche perfectly. I honestly put the stuff onto or next to everything I eat. Recipes are easy to find online but I made a few changes to my version that while keeping the flavor essence of Haitian picklese produces a vibrant magenta hue.

Ingredients

6 Scotch Bonnets or Habanero Peppers
2 cups thinly sliced Red Cabbage
1/2 cup thinly sliced Carrots
1/4 cup thinly sliced Red Onions
4 whole Cloves
1 tsp Salt
8 to 10 Peppercorns
3 cups White Vinegar

Quarter the Scotch Bonnets, removing the seeds and stems. Salt the cabbage and let it sit, the cabbage softens and shrinks down considerably. Since I tend to oversalt, I rinse it off before shoving it in the jar. Put all the ingredients in a quart size jar (preferably wide-mouthed) and top with the vinegar. Close it tightly, put it in a refrigerator, and then resist the temptation to eat any for a minimum of one day.

I use a mandolin (not the musical instrument) on the cabbage and onions then switch to julienne for the carrots. It's just a personal preference for a slight textural difference. I'm not sure it matters once everything is pickled but I find knife work soothing which is probably in keeping with my lawful evil quiz results.

In addition, quantities should all end in -ish...for example the batch I'm making has about three cups of cabbage or 2-ish. Pickling in this household is less an exercise in precision and more of a jar-packing, extra vinegar sloshing thing.

That's it, as promised, my pickly process.

Monday, April 19, 2010

Flexitarianism

A lot of people - and by people, I mean participants in reality TV shows - like to give more than 100% of their efforts towards whatever generic goal is set before them. That way failure can be blamed on something other than effort. Perhaps someone else had the advantage of physical fitness, longer arms or a heretofore unknown ability to stack puzzle pieces into the likeness of Lincoln...whatever the case, lack of effort is never a contributing factor.

I'm not sure I've ever given more than 100% to anything. I don't think I even believe in the concept. Three natural births and I'm fairly certain that I have yet to achieve complete, total, effort. Didn't I rest, have moments of inattention, contemplate the ceiling tiles, wonder how long it could possibly take for Chris to park a car? Maybe it's just me. A little bit of over-thinking and every action loses about 10% effort. I over-think a lot.

Key words: Action Plan

If you have a really good action plan, with diagrams and lists, sometimes you run out of time or energy for actual action. My current state of being involves a serious thinking process that culminates in two theoretical project completions - a de-junked garage and a painted/rearranged/cleaned girls' room. (Updates pending but I would not be holding my breath). Not to forget the vegetable garden that needs starting, IKEA furniture to assemble, and all of the regular bits and baubles of scut work that still hold prominent position on the "to-do" list. I would say I'm behind, and that is probably a kind assessment of how far from a hypothetical state of project completion I really am.

Now we add the earnest desire of a 11.5 year old to "be a vegetarian."

Emile has a friend that has gone vegan and we (Chrisabelle plus Emile) have been discussing the odd lack of family support she seems to be getting. We don't really know as all of our information is filtered through the lens of teens, but we're willing to believe that the average American household would have major changes to make in order to accommodate a vegan. In this case, they've opted to let her buy and make her own meals. From the standpoint of a household that cooks regularly from scratch, eats an enormous variety of vegetables, shops organic and local, I have been happily basking in the parental one-upmanship of our "supportive" parenting style which should have been an indicator of a pending karmic stumbling block. Inspired by this very cool girl and an apparently new love of cows, Reine has declared herself a vegetarian.

We eat a lot of greens but we also like this t-shirt http://www.threadless.com/product/490/Meat_is_Murder_Tasty_Tasty_Murder so an earlier attempt by Chris to have 3+ "meatless" days failed. Quantity reduction - absolutely! Total elimination and the omnivore crowd started to grumble. He blames me as the Omnivore Club president but I think he didn't give 117% and anything shy of more than total effort should be considered not trying hard enough. At least, that's my new position on this issue.

So this is where things currently stand. After some research (all mom) we have settled on what I will call Pesco Lacto Ovo Vegetarianism a semi-vegetarianism that includes fruits de mer, dairy, and eggs. Plus there are several key requirements to the PLOV diet:

1 a better acronym
2 enthusiasm for vegetables - in particular the ability to eat something you may not love but doesn't produce a gag reflex either
3 willingness to try everything more than once to "acquire" the taste
4 if regular people should have 5 servings of fruits and vegetables a day a vegetarian should have at least 10
5 a prohibition from telling everyone you meet that you are a vegetarian until you are at the Lacto Ovo stage and no longer technically a flesh eater

So really the flexitarian is me, as I force myself off the high horse of parental superiority and get down to the nitty gritty of helping my baby try something new in a way that is healthy and informed. (Note to self - it is easier to make them do everything themselves). It's hard to struggle against a kid who is asking to add more vegetables to their diet. At least it's hard to struggle without feeling like a hypocrite. Chris will get his meatless days and I will feel like a flexible, supportive parent which is a 100% good thing. Maybe even 110%

Thursday, April 8, 2010

Sol Invictus

We have had a week of weather that hearkens more towards the coming summer than what is ordinarily early spring in Virginia. Every plant is spewing pollen coating cars and eyeballs in dust somewhere between lime and chartreuse. Chris says relaxing on the deck is like sitting in the collectivity of tree sex, as they shiver and waft indiscriminately on tree and mammal alike (my paraphrasing). However, as irritating as pollen is, it is only a minor obstacle in my quest for greater nature survival skills - the suburban version. My arch nemesis is the sun.

"The earth has received the embrace of the sun and we shall see the results of that love." so said Sitting Bull, he of the higher levels of melanin than I. With certainty the result of the sun's love will be another moment spent pushing fingers against hot skin and watching the bright white spots fading slowly, while pondering how much higher than SPF 100 there is.

I've always had a love-hate relationship with the sun. I am incapable of productivity without a flooding of natural light. Overcast days send me scurrying to couches with blankets and books and TV remotes. Life in a land of mist and fog would be unhealthy for me...add cold and it would quickly become unbearable. If I had inherited any pigmentation other than the pale, freckled Eastern European skin of my father I would probably spend my summer days basking like a lizard. Unfortunately, I would be better off tattooing "flammable" across my rear and carrying a parasol.

I like heat. I love being barefoot. Generally, summer is my favorite season. A shaded veranda, cold drink, a fan gently stirring muggy air...I can live with that scenario. Tropical. But what I get is a sun so hot and bright that white heat generates temperatures that are described as "104 degrees in the shade." What shade? All these trees in Virginia and it's always high noon. Even slathered in SPF 100 (yes, that's real) I still end the day with new freckles. As I hunker in a tiny patch of gray I'm hit with a one two punch of suburban American motherhood; the water park and the public pool. So while friends may shop for bathing suits that don't leave terrible tan lines, I prepare for my annual battle against the sun. Stockpiles of sunscreen, hats, sunglasses, sheer (perhaps marginally stylish) cover-ups, and repetition of the phrase "because you don't want skin cancer when you're older."

If somehow you see me at the pool, and are not blinded by the reflection of the sun off my pallor, I will be enjoying the heat from the protective cover of my hat, towel and umbrella shaded seat. The other option is to stand bravely in the light "for what is it to die, but to stand in the sun and melt into the wind?" I think Khalil Gibran understood although he too had the ability to tan.