Month: July 2010

Seeking Solitude

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I just spent three blissful days in Point Reyes by myself. It’s funny, when I tell people I’m going away solo—often on a silent retreat—I’ll get gasps and eye pops and “don’t you get lonely?”

The answer is no. In fact, in the beginning it’s quite the opposite.

I’ve sought solitude enough now to have discovered that the first step to silence is often a lot of noise. As external distractions diminish, internal chatter becomes a roar. Sometimes, this drives me nuts. On this particular trip, though, I was more like, “huh … interesting.”

And that’s just my voice. I had plenty of others keeping me company too. Brother Lawrence. Jan Chozen Bays. Jesus. Chris Guillebeau (if you haven’t checked out his website or new book yet, do). The silence with which I’d surrounded myself eventually, within a day or so, scrubbed my mind clean—like the ocean scraping back the sand all nice and smooth after a wave has crashed—so that the thoughts sparked by these other voices had room, space, oxygen to ignite.

And ignite they did.

I feel like I’ve had my head down for months and months between launches, conferences, redesigns and the rest of life, and it was a real gift to lift my eyes and see again—clearly—the WHY behind it all.

A total bonus on this trip was how much fun I had. Like belly laugh, big sigh fun. I went for a gorgeous hike up Mount Wittenberg (confession … I wasn’t totally alone on that—several of you joined me on Facebook and Twitter and it was fun to have you along!). I sat on a dune, closed my eyes and listened to the Pacific (did you know that waves are louder going out—that scraping of the sand—than they are coming in?). On the way back inland, I had to stop five times for five separate tribes of little quailies scurrying across the road. I ate oysters. I prayed, unrushed. I laid on the beach for as long as I wanted without having to be anywhere next.

And, despite the 691 new messages in my inbox, the solitude is still a soft cushion around me. Whereas, last Thursday, I gulped lunch while taking care of last-minute to-dos, today I ate my sandwich outside with no greater distraction than the breeze in the leaves and the curious fact that our fig tree has doubled in size since I left.

For anyone who says, “I want to do that!” I’ll offer these few guidelines to seeking solitude that I’ve gleaned over the years.

1)   Be deliberate about your time. Both when you plan your getaway and what you do once you’re there. Last year, I took a retreat before a big conference and was distracted during and overwhelmed afterward. This year, I planned my retreat after the big push and felt much more free.

2)   Be in the moment. I like to have absolutely nothing planned going into my retreats so that I can respond to what I’m feeling led to do in the moment. This time, especially, it felt like exercising a mindfulness muscle; I could feel myself getting more responsive to the call of the present moment as time went on.

3)   Pack light. I am a chronic overpacker. But on solo retreats it’s better to have not enough than too much. Too much gives you an excuse to stuff the hours full of should-dos. Not enough forces you to make do with (and be delighted by) what’s already there … like when I had some time to spare and tilted back my head only to notice tufts of fog were advancing on the blue sky. I ended up “playing” with the shapes for a good 15 minutes.

4)   Stay simple. Where you stay doesn’t have to be grand either. I favor hermitages, monasteries and retreat houses, all of which offer humble accommodations at super affordable prices.

It’s important to recognize that pursuing solitude is different than taking a business trip alone. It’s deliberately removing yourself from external interactions so you can hear yourself more clearly and delve down into the essence of you. If, as you read through this, you feel a flutter of curiosity, here’s a place to start. No matter what you want to get out of your retreat or what your faith or belief, odds are there’s a quiet refuge on this listing that’s just right for you.

Honey-Roasted Fig Tartine with Prosciutto

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I had a fantastic sandwich from Cowgirl Creamery while in Point Reyes, CA, this weekend that reignited my love of sandwiches … in particular, topless ones called “tartines.” I made this one with leftover Red Hawk from my visit, along with luscious figs picked up en route. Drizzling the fig with honey and popping it under the broiler gives it an impromptu jammy quality; especially good paired with gooey cheese and crisp prosciutto.

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Canal House Books

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Do you know these guys yet? If not, you should (and you actually probably already do, even if you don’t know it, since they’ve both been big names in the food media biz for a long time). Their latest book, Farm Markets and Gardens, is hot off the presses with simple, fresh recipes that capture the essence of summer like cold avocado and cucumber soup and grilled branzino. Order here for $19.95 … or sign up subscription style for three books a year for $49.95.

What’s for Lunch?

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Lately, I’ve been working with a client who has me come to their office several days a week. It hasn’t taken long to get reacquainted with the midday conundrum that bedevils office workers everywhere: What’s for lunch? If you haven’t packed something to eat you’re at the mercy of whatever is nearby.

I’ve already tired of the eateries in the surrounding neighborhood and find myself gazing enviously at coworkers who had the foresight to bring lunch from home. When my boss offered me a sample of her homemade stuffed grape leaves recently–made with leaves from the vines in her garden, no less–only propriety kept me from grabbing the container and scarfing them all down. After searching NOURISH Evolution’s archives, I’ve come up with five tasty possibilities for my own lunch box:

whats-for-lunchAsian Turkey Salad. Lia created this one to use up leftover Thanksgiving turkey, but it would work just as well with chicken. If you’re firing up the grill over the weekend, throw on some extra chicken to use in this recipe, or shred the meat from a supermarket rotisserie bird (just make sure it’s organic). Pack the dressing separately from the rest of the salad so it stays crisp until lunchtime.

Devilish Egg Salad. An egg-salad sandwich on toast is an old-school classic. This version comes together in a flash and would be a hearty repast on toasted whole wheat bread with lettuce and tomato or, as Lia suggests, tucked into lettuce-lined pitas.

Open-Faced Tomato Avocado Sandwich. As easy to pull together as a PBJ, yet luscious with peak-season tomatoes (Lia’s favorite are big, fat slices of a Kellogg’s Breakfast tomato) and creamy avocado, this simple sandwich is tough to beat. All you need are the fixins’ from home and a toaster oven in the office.

Chicken Pate with Brandy. This is a personal favorite that takes me back to childhood, when my mom sent me to school with chopped liver-on-rye sandwiches. That combination would still satisfy, though I’d if I were feeling fancy-schmancy I’d nibble the pate on crackers with mustard and cornichons.

Radish and Goat Cheese Baguettes. As long as you have the fixings on hand, you could throw this together on the busiest mornings. It’s also ripe with possibilities for improvisation–add sliced cucumbers or beets, or swap the goat cheese and arugula for Gorgonzola and radicchio.

If I brought any of these to work, my lunch would be the envy of the office.

How do you get creative with your brown bags?

The Language of the Kitchen

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I know I’ve been writing a lot on Guatemala as of late. But, hey, there’s been a lot to write about. Like, for instance, the fact that I recently got into the kitchen to cook side by side with Ana Maria Chali Calan this week.

kitchen-language-postMany of you know that Christopher and I support Ana Maria’s daughter Mayra in her university studies, and I’ve written about what that means to me. But when we first became connected with the Calan family, I never imagined that Ana Maria and I would be teaching a class together here in Healdsburg.

A couple of months ago, although it seems like days, a few of us had a little planning session in my garden about how to bring Ana Maria back to the states. Slow Food Sonoma County had brought Ana Maria here in November 2008, as the leader of the indigenous women’s association AMIDI, to exchange ideas about farming and foodways in Guatemala and America.

One concern that Ana Maria voiced in 2008 was the proliferation of poorly ventilated stoves, which are both a safety and health hazard. As a result of Ana Maria’s diplomacy here, our organization was able to raise enough money to donate 41 fuel-efficient stoves shortly after her return, one to each member of AMIDI. But it didn’t stop there. Guatemalan officials heard about the stoves and went to the village to see them in action. They were so impressed that they decided to install over 6,000 of them throughout highland villages, improving—and likely even saving—numerous lives.

Fast forward—and I mean fast forward (the generous Bowmans sprung for Ana Maria’s ticket and Marilee mobilized everything expertly)—to Thursday, the day after Ana Maria arrived here in the U.S. I’m standing side by side with Ana Maria, I in my chef’s jacket and she in her huipil, and we’re preparing to teach a class together on using stone tools.

She teaches how to grind corn on a metate and hand-pat tortillas. I talked about making salsas and sauces in molcajetes (you all know I’m smitten for mortars and pestles) and then put everyone to work making their own. I even made Sandra’s Pollo en Jocon and got a thumbs up from Ana Maria herself.

This year, Ana Maria’s village faces even graver issues: the village was hit heavily by mudslides after a recent tropical storm. The water system was destroyed, houses were heavily damaged, and crops and fields and livestock were washed away. But she, they, will persevere. And we will be there to support them (if you’d like to help, click here on the donation page we’ve set up).

The language of the kitchen is universal (of course, it helps to have Marilee there translating). It never ceases to amaze me, whether in Mexico, France, Guatemala, Greece or right here at home, how strong and natural the bonds become when people are elbow to elbow washing leaves or shredding chicken or pounding herbs. Bodies relax. Divides disappear. Conversation flows freely … even when spoken in a foreign tongue.

Lia’s Black Beans

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These have become our favorite black beans to accompany Latin American meals. I recently made these for a class I taught with Ana Maria from Guatemala and got the coveted thumbs up.Lia's Black Beans

1 tablespoon canola oil
1 onion, chopped
2 large poblano chiles, seeded and chopped
4 cloves garlic, smashed
2 guajillo chiles, soaked, seeded and chopped
2 teaspoons ground cumin
2 teaspoons ground coriander
2 teaspoons oregano
2 teaspoons ground ancho chile
½ teaspoon cinnamon
1-1/2 cups dried black beans, rinsed and soaked overnight (or fast-soaked in a pressure cooker)
Generous hit of sea salt
2 cups water
1 cup vegetable or chicken broth

Heat canola oil over medium-high heat in a large, heavy-bottomed pot. Add onion, poblanos and garlic, and sauté 15 minutes, stirring frequently, until deep golden brown. Add guajillo chiles and spices, and sauté 1 minute, until fragrant.

Add beans, salt, broth and water, and bring to a boil. Reduce heat to low and simmer, uncovered, for 1-1/2 hours, until beans are very tender.

Using a potato masher, mash the beans until there’s a mix of whole beans and creamy mashed beans.

Serves 10-12