Running Water!! And an Idea for Redirection of 'Ascetic' Energy

Look at this. Really look at it for a moment, as it's something momentous:

 Yes, we have water coming out of the faucet in our cabin! Running water! A couple days ago, the guy showed up with the water truck. He attached the huge (maybe 4in diameter) pressure hose to a pipe sticking out of our 'bunker.' Phil was down in the basement, directing the other end of the pipe into the water tank. 1000 gallons later, our bunker smelled like a swimming pool (what happened to the city's plans to change over from chlorination to reverse osmosis?) and our tank was full.

Best of all, it's coming out of that faucet by gravity feed (the bunker is several feet higher than our cabin), so we didn't have to get a pump. It's not blasting pressure by any stretch, but running, it is.

I think that the biggest effect of this will be that since we no longer need to haul water home every couple days, we might be able to do more of our grocery shopping by bike (if I can bring Phil to haul some of it!) and save on gas.

Happy Memorial Day!
Our group of friends is getting together this evening for a 'Home Foods'-themed gathering, where everyone will bring something that was 'comfort food' or 'traditional/childhood' food. I'm excited to make some middle-eastern-themed goodies to share.

Today is also my 'treat day,' so this was my breakfast:

 A smoothie of two frozen bananas, a cup of water, a heaping teaspoon each of coconut cream powder, maca, tocotrienols, lecithin, a pinch of vanilla powder and a sprinkle of ceylon cinnamon.
It was just heavenly...

Many thanks again for all the wise comments on my recent posts on restricted diets. I have been reflecting on how very easy it is for me to undertake a very strict diet, and wondering how it would be to take that 'ascetic energy' and apply it differently. Specifically, what if I were to focus on what comes out of my mouth rather than what I put in? That ties in with the blogger responsibility discussion too. What if, instead of deciding that I'm going to live on yams, carrots and nettles, I decided that I'm going to pay exquisite attention to being impeccable with my word? I'm not sure what a 'treat day' would look like in that setting, lol! I also know that, for me at least, it would be much harder than sticking to a restrictive diet.

Do you think that would be a good redirection of my 'ascetic energy?' Do you think I could do it? Could you do it?

Monotony with "Treats" Again--the Good Parts--and Strength to Deviate

Many thanks for all the thoughtful comments on my previous post: I'm glad that the 'treat' languaging resonated for people, and that the 'placebo/nocebo' discussion was of interest. I also greatly appreciate the concern around the potentially triggering nature of this latest self-experiment, about which I came clean.

Today, I want to come back to the 'monotonous diet with treat days' idea and discuss some of its benefits (while admitting that I'm not the prime candidate for the benefits it offers), and I also want to return to the point I made that one's basic diet should make one stronger and more tolerant of occasional deviations; not increasingly reactive to anything off the normal agenda. Back to that 'freedom to sway' concept.

I think the two ideas are connected, because I believe that one of the benefits of a monotonous or cleansing diet is that it helps you to get in touch with what actually is a treat.

Reconnecting with what you actually like

I mentioned 'hyperpalatable,' tastebud-tricking foods yesterday, and the fact that going to a monotonous diet can down-regulate weight set-point simply by re-establishing connection with hunger signals and ending dopamine overload. But neurotransmitters and hormones aside, it's a common observation that eating good quality foods, simply prepared, enhances appreciation of simple food and sharpens the tastebuds. 

I found that after a week or two on my 'tetra diet,' I was preparing these gluten free cupcakes for Phil's daughter...

...and I had absolutely no interest in eating them at all!
What's more interesting is that on a 'treat day,' I did try a little bit of cupcake, and I didn't like it! Perhaps that's not surprising for me, because there may have been some 'nocebo' stuff going on in the back of my mind about the sugar and the kind of fat used... The yams, nettles and carrots all seemed much more appealing to me. Truly!

But getting to taste the gf cupcake (as opposed to the past two years of never having any 'on principle') and getting to experience that I didn't like it, was really useful for me. I don't always feel very in touch with 'what I like,' partly because of my history of restriction and partly because of the 'placebo/nocebo' head stuff. Noticing that I didn't appreciate the cupcake enabled me to then ask myself "Well, what would seem like a treat?" And I was able to connect to the fact that I much prefer something like a chocolate mousse or truffle to something fluffy and cakey. The same in non-chocolate flavors, too. That's a useful thing to know about oneself, isn't it? Helps to decide what 'treats' to choose and which ones I could gladly skip without a twinge.

Now, I'm aware that I'm pretty unusual in my immunity to visually tempting treats: I think a lot of it has to do with having a genuine allergy (to gluten and dairy) and therefore a long habit of ignoring those foods, even when I'm the one making them. Maybe there are people who would do a monotonous diet and find it torture to fix those cupcakes, knowing they wouldn't eat any! (I have felt 'deprived' a couple times this past week, but only when, through poor planning, I didn't eat enough carrots and yams and was starving, felt like I could eat 'anything'--bad place to be, sends me dangerous places.) 

I guess there are two different schools of thought on resetting pleasure and appetite signals. There's this one that I've been outlining, that resembles some flavors of raw-foodism too. On the other side of the fence, there's the Matt Stone/RRARF philosophy (or Geneen Roth with the pillowcase of M&M's), who say to eat lots of everything, especially things that you consider 'forbidden,' with no restriction of food groups or sources. They say that this allows you to get your head out of the equation, allows your thyroid to kick back in and your metabolism to rev up to cope with the quantity, and eventually you'll burn out on the junk and no longer want it. Reading Matt Stone's followers' testimonies, though, it seems like a fair number end up gaining unwanted weight on this approach, although other health markers typically improve significantly--a tough bargain to sell me on.

The idea with this second approach is that your system ends up stronger and better able to handle any kind of input. But I want to submit that if one eats a more 'contained' diet with 'treat days,' it's likely that if it's a good diet, your system will be good to go for the sway spots that way too. I loved Raederle's report from her road trip a month ago, that (after an extended period of being completely raw) she ate a meal totally off-program in a social context where there were no 'healthy' alternatives, and felt absolutely fine afterwards! And she felt fine even though she'd had some apprehension about how she might feel with such an aberration, so even the 'nocebo' effect wasn't stronger than her system. I loved this story so much because it's the diametrical opposite of the "oh no, I found out that those dried apples had been steamed and I got so sick"-type laments. One of my bodywork teachers distinguished between being 'sensitive' and being 'reactive.' The former is a sign of strength. The latter is a weakness.

It might even be beneficial to 'challenge' your body with something other-than-optimal every once in a while: just like exercise, it's a way to build strength. This way of thinking is callisthenic for me in itself: needing to be so careful about gluten and dairy can definitely steer me toward thinking that I need to be as vigilant about everything else too.

Do you know what you like? 

Would you be more comfortable with an 'eat everything until you self-regulate' or an 'eat a monotonous/bland diet as a reset' approach?

Do you think that it's good to 'challenge' your body with occasional dietary aberrations?

Blogger Responsibility and Restricted Diets, "Cheat" vs. "Treat" and "Placebo and Nocebo"

There's been some cogent talk about blogger responsibility recently. See Mara and Tina for some carefully articulated thoughts. We're sharing our lives, opinions and experiences with anyone who cares to look and listen: it's an obligation to us to be conscious of what it is that we're sharing. This fact, together with Gena's wise comment on my 'tetra-diet' post, to the effect that such restrictive diets are rarely actually necessary and can trigger all kinds of unwanted 'head stuff,' makes me realize that I owe you an explanation. Why is someone like me, who has been told by several health professionals that I should 'never go on any kind of diet again,' eating yams, carrots and nettles (and occasional coconut kefir) three meals a day and snacks?

Self-Experimentation with Misapplied Science
I do have some good reasons. Or at least, not bad reasons. Like, I'd been feeling good on starch and wanted to take it to the max. Or, I'm just finishing up the yeast cleanse and wanted to do something that felt like 'spring-cleaning.' Or, I'm looking forward to going back to eating a high fruit diet when I'm done with the yeast cleanse in just a few days and felt that this would be an appropriate 'transition.' Plus, you know me: I love to self-experiment.

However, in all responsibility and candor, I need to admit that there are some not-so-good reasons why I've been doing this, and specifically, some misapplication of scientific research. I've been reading Stephan Guyenet's series on how Food Reward impacts obesity. You can get a good summary of the concept in David Kessler's The End of Overeating also. The suggestion is that highly processed, highly flavored and salted, highly sweet and fatty 'industrial' foods designed to keep people coming back for more, override the hormonal satiation signals of leptin with a dopamine deluge and an upward-spiraling search for the high of 'food reward.' This processed modern food is so 'rewarding' that rats will endure electric shocks to get to it when they have an abundance of bland food readily available.

The antidote? Eat unprocessed, bland foods, come off the dopamine rollercoaster, and suddenly your body resensitizes to all that leptin signaling "I'm full!" and your weight set-point drops effortlessly.
And then there's the 20 Potatoes a Day guy, not obese to begin with, who ate mostly potatoes for two months and corroborated the concept that a very monotonous diet can bring about a spontaneous down-regulation of weight set-point without the negative effects of reduced thyroid function, hunger and frustration.

Since I eat almost no processed food at all, ever (and the only 'processed' food I ever do eat is healthfood store stuff); since I don't even like most industrially processed/artificially flavored foods but favor antioxidant rich and otherwise healthful spices; since, moreover, I'm not obese, my decision that such a regime would be just the right thing for me seems somewhat misguided, no?

My past experience with putting myself on restricted diets is also cause for concern: there is part of me that actually enjoys the restriction, and can find it hard to break. That's why the stipulation of a 'cheat day' and that this monotonous diet was for a limited time only are both saving graces. I am determined that I'll stick to the limited time period because I'm looking forward to fruit!

But I want to spend the rest of this post on the 'cheat/treat' day concept and how it ties in with
placebo/nocebo.

The one flaw in the 'cheat day' concept lies in the languaging. If you're calling it a 'cheat day,' it immediately invokes the idea that it's something 'wrong.' If you worry about nutrition at all, it's easy to talk yourself out of any 'cheating' because it's too much fat/too much sugar/too early in the day, or any other excuse...and then you end up having your cheat day from your yam diet being a yam smoothie!

Very early on, Phil suggested to me that I should call it a 'treat day,' not a 'cheat day,' and I think he's so right. A 'treat' is an exception that feeds your spirit, without importing any of the mind-chatter around what you 'should' or shouldn't eat. A treat is also a celebration of your body--and mind's--inherent flexibility, curiosity and willingness to experience things outside of the normal pattern.

How we talk about and think about what goes in our body plays a huge part in how our body then deals with it. (Of course, I'm not talking about things you're genuinely allergic to.) It's helpful to me to remember that something I consider a 'treat' would probably be seen as health food by many people. Something that I think of as super-decadent and a little risque' might be a 'lite alternative' to many people.

This attitude element, together with the "cheat" vs. "treat"also ties into the whole "placebo"/"nocebo" effect. I love those words: of course I do, I'm a Latinist... "Placebo" means "I will please or do good;" "nocebo" means "I will harm."It's pretty well known now that placebos work: if a person believes that they are receiving something beneficial and healing, the substance they receive will have that effect on them.

What hasn't been given enough attention, especially in the diet/nutrition world, is that the "nocebo" effect also works. If you firmly believe that a certain food is going to be bad for you, it's unlikely that you'll feel good after eating it! If you eat the same food with enjoyment, gratitude, pleasure (and somehow turn off that nutrition policeman in your head), you'll likely feel just fine (again: this isn't about cases of genuine allergic response).

If you've been around strict raw-foodists who believe that all cooked food is poison and say that they ate a teensy morsel of cooked food and were _sooo sick_, you've most likely seen the nocebo effect in action. There are some who claim to feel the difference between low-temperature-dried fruit and nuts and 'cooked' dried fruit and nuts but that kind of hyper-alert is probably the nocebo effect in action too. I know: I've been there. My further concern with choosing a very restricted diet, especially for a longer period of time, and especially with negative languaging like 'cheats,' is that it's inviting the nocebo effect to rule your experience of many otherwise innocuous foods, as they spend a lot of time out of circulation in your body, with ample room for your mind to find reasons why they're 'not good.'

I'll talk about this more in another post, but I sincerely believe that one's regular way of eating should make one's system stronger, not weaker. This means being better able to handle occasional excursions and irregularities, rather than being in danger of death if there's no organic fruit available. In addition to the social empathy element, which I'll also save for the next post on this subject, that concept of strength from one's regimen stays with me nowadays and keeps me from becoming too blinkered and from the tendency to demonize whole families of foods that many people eat quite happily.

Thanks for helping me stay honest and responsible!
Have you experienced the nocebo effect with your eating? Do you enjoy 'treats' or do you 'cheat?'
much love

Berbere-Spiced Split Pea-Nettle Stew and its Reinvention

It's pleasurable to be flexible, even in the midst of a 'tetra-diet,' and it's pleasurable to introduce foods to other people. Not many people know nettles.

Nettle pesto and all that can be done with it is obviously a great intro, but I wanted to make something closer to my own culinary roots: a different take on spinach and lentils.

1 cup yellow split peas, soaked overnight and then cooked, long and slow, with a piece of ginger

coconut oil for the skillet

half an onion, finely chopped

three cloves of garlic

two teaspoons berbere spice

one teaspoon ground ginger

one teaspoon ground turmeric

sprinkle of salt

big bunch of nettles (maybe six cups?)--roughly chopped with scissors.

Two burners is all I have, so sometimes there's pot-juggling here.

Saute' the onions with the berbere. Once the onions are translucent, add nettles and garlic and remaining spices, and a little water if necessary.

Stir all together; once the nettles have wilted, add the whole contents of the skillet to the pan of split peas.

Stir through and season to taste.

Of course, I was retrofitting and hadn't added the ginger and turmeric at the beginning! I thought they looked a little pale in the above stage, and so my 'season to taste' was the ginger and turmeric: 'season to eye' also--but they'd have been better added to begin with. 

I adore the taste of berbere. Spicy, with cardamom. How could it be better? (Sorry, Phil...) And since I'm playing around with eating spices more seldom than every day, it's fun to go straight for the yummiest.

This stew was enjoyed just like that, and then it underwent a rebirth as part of a salad. Also featured in the salad were about four cups of spinach, chopped tomato and avocado and julienned beets.

The stew (about two-three cups of it) is just mixed in with everything else: the nettles begin to disappear at that point, but they're in there, playing their quiet and steely role.

Do you replay, reinvision, rebirth your creations? Or is a cheesecake always a cheesecake and never a smoothie?

Chronicle of Unaided Green

One of the good parts about eating the same thing every day is that I only have to think about what I'm fixing for Phil, which theoretically opens up time for me to work, write, play...And the good thing about having a day off from that each week is that I can release my pent-up palatal and culinary curiosity! (Actually, the truth is that more I'm 'on a program,' the less interested I am in moving away from it: more on that in a future post.) Of course, the truth is that there is always more to do. We're planting our gardens, which takes some time, and also getting ready for a trip across the bay to see what the wildlife and greenlife is doing there.

Over here, nettles are well-established, but there are many other things growing beautifully with no help from  us.

Those feathery-looking pale stalks (in the photo below) are horsetail grass, equisetum arvensis: ancient as the paleocene and the most ineradicable, rampant weed you've ever met. Like nettles, they are super-high in silicon and are thus touted by superfoodists. But I can't imagine a good way to make them digestible by humans. The silicon means that their internal structure is like ground glass. If you juiced them, you'd need a new juicer every month! They are very handy as scouring pads/bottle brushes, though. They can spread up to 30 feet per year horizontally under ground, so all our attempts at covering a patch with black tarps to suppress all weed growth have been futile--they just keep on moving in from sideways and under!

Oh, and all horse owners who live around here give their horses vitamin B shots, because horses love horsetails, eat lots of them and it depletes their vitamin Bs, which can be fatal. When people say that animals always know what's nutritious and good for them, never overeat, never eat something poisonous, always know when to stop, it makes me think that they haven't been around animals very much.

These are chocolate lilies (also known as 'stink lilies.') They are a carbohydrate source: you have to dig up the bulbs and cook them. They're called 'Indian rice.' Phil has tried them and says they're very bland. I've yet to play with them but will do so this year.

Fiddlehead ferns with their parchment cauls, unfurling, spiraling toward the light...

It's fascinating how they can be under the earth and unfurling already. I ate lots of them steamed last year. There are warnings against eating them raw, and  I think it's something else besides the oxalic acid.

Our raspberries have mostly been casualties of the rampaging snowshoe hares. The hares killed so many trees this winter (by gnawing all the bark off) and did the same to most of our raspberry canes. So sad... But there are a few with new growth on them, as you can see (the cane in the middle of the picture has new leaves about half-way up):

This graceful, gentle plant is flowering already! Can you see those adorable little yellow-green buds?

In spring, we call it 'twisted stalk.' Before it flowers, you can eat its twisted stalk: succulent, slightly reminiscent of cucumber. In fall, we call it 'watermelon berry.' Those little buds flower into succulent, pendulous, pulpy, mild-tasting berries. A little like watermelon, which isn't surprising given the cucumber note of the green part.

'Tetra-Diet' (Monotonous, not Strict) and Workout Regimen

Happy apocalypse day! I hope it's a bright one wherever you are. There must be something glum in the air: I haven't been having the 'best day ever' so far. But even apocalypse day will pass--has passed already in hemispheres east of here.

I hope you caught my 'Recipe for Poets' post: nettle pesto is a lovely thing. I also mentioned in there that I've been eating 'other' again. Monotonous, not strict. Not a mono-diet, but rather a 'tetra' diet.
Yams,

 Nettles,

Carrots (you know what they look like)
and some homemade coconut kefir.

I harvest about half a cup of kefir cream every two days, so that places a maximum on consumption. 

I'd thought about doing just yams, but they're really not good raw, so carrots are a big staple. And since nettles, which I adore, are leaping and bounding up here, it just seemed wrong not to eat them.

My usual m.o. is to bake up a bunch of yams all at once, and then either eat them cold or warm them in the water in which the nettles have been steaming. I eat a bunch of nettles, some yam, and as many carrots as needed to fill me up. A mouthful or two of kefir at the end if necessary. Before I started, I'd thought I could make all kinds of interesting versions of texture and flavor, with spices and mashing and julienning, etc but--maybe partly just being busy--I haven't yet been drawn to do anything other than the simple bake and steam.

Another 'rule' for me is that I should 'break' this at times. If we're having dinner with friends, I'll bring salad and eat some. I'm also having one 'cheat day' per week. The purpose of this is to have one day where I can eat 'off the program,' give my metabolism a boost. I'm curious to see how well I do with that plan, since my usual rhythm when I go on a restricted diet is to dive into it with the tunnel vision of a mole and not even think of other foods. This tunnel can last a long time and can take some dangerous turns that I'm determined to avoid.

That said, my last week's 'cheat day' was pretty unadventurous: it was a yam smoothie with some coconut oil and cacao and mint extract, but so much spirulina that you can't even see the chocolate color!

The 'cheat day' and flexibility are also to honor the fact that I'm working out. Doing extra exercise isn't a time to encourage super-neuroticism around food. My exercise tolerance continues to be marvelously more than it had been for years, and I'm enjoying getting in shape. I decided to take on Prevention's 'Fit and Fabulous in Four Weeks' program, which consists of cardio intervals twice a week and weight training twice a week (so, lots of rest days!). Phil made me some weights out of railroad spikes and purple duct tape.

I like the idea of following a routine and progressing with it; also like that it's supposedly for a finite period, although I can already see that I would enjoy continuing with something similar thereafter. 'Enjoy?!' Whoever would have thought I'd say that? It feels so good to have an association between enjoyment and exercise. I haven't only been doing those workouts either. We've been doing some hiking, I've ridden my bike some, bounced on the rebounder, and of course continued my morning routine of 5 Tibetans and some others....

So, why am I doing the 'tetra diet' and for how long? The 'why' is mostly that I'm curious to see how I feel doing something like that. It's a higher 'cooked' percentage than I would prefer, but it's also very low fat, which is something I hadn't tried for quite a while. I'm approaching the end of my three month yeast cleanse and, as I've mentioned several times before, am looking forward to reintroducing fruit. This yam-carrot-based thing was to be a stop-gap until I can do that more fully. I suspect that it's also wise for me not to lose sight of the fact that coconut does me good. I'm planning to do this until the end of the month (so, really not that much longer) and then start being more fruit-based in June.

I'll post again soon about how I'm feeling with this regime and what changes I've noticed.

What do you think? Sound like a plan? Have you ever taken on a weird diet of your own devising for a short time?

Recipes For Poets: Nettle Pesto and Thoughts on Versatility and Peacemaking

The last two days have been throat-clearing and pump-priming, but today I'm determined to get back to poetry writing, sweep finally through the clutter and inertia caused by our trip. It always seems to take me eight or nine days to get back to it, and I promise myself that I'm going to build and find ways to keep writing on the road.

Versatility and peacemaking: these are two features that are dear to me both in food creation and in poetry writing. Part of my 'pump priming' process in getting back into writing has been to ask myself, seriously: "What do I really love--to eat, to write, to do, to share as a message?" As a person who spent too many years in the anorexic universe, this is a very trenchant question (I don't know what I want): at times, the aporia it generates is astonishing. It's something I'd like to bring to light and to talk about more here in future, but versatility: the flexibility to fit with many environments and contexts--and peacemaking: filling a context that allows for agreement, of themes, people, flavors, viewpoints--are two qualities that came to mind that I aspire to.

So, without further pump-priming, a good recipe for this poet is one that admits of poetic license--variation of ingredients, proportions and specifics. It is delicious. Ideally, it speaks of the environment whence it comes. It can be used in a variety of ways and marries well with many flavors, brings parties together.

 This is nettle-parsley-basil pesto: fresh nettles, pioneers from the explosion of green that the 'Rite of Spring' produces here, married with more familiar, aromatic herbs (grown in pots indoors), with nuts, olive oil, garlic and lemon.

It took me barely seven minutes to make in the cuisinart, and can then be used as a base for many other quick and delicious recipes.

Note that I rarely measure when I create, so these ingredient amounts are approximate and reflect both poetic license and respect for a formal proportion that 'works.'

You need: a cuisinart (7-cup works well) with the S-blade fitted
Ingredients:
1 cup nuts or seeds of choice (I used half pumpkin seeds: zinc powerhouse, and half walnut: represents the brain in the 'doctrine of signatures') (Pine nuts, mac nuts, hemp seeds, sunflower seeds or a combination would all be good too)
3 cups fresh nettles (I harvest with scissors into a picking basket: I seldom get stung. I chop them roughly with the scissors once they're picked)
Half a cup each basil and parsley
2 cloves garlic (or more, or less!)
Juice of half a lemon (use two tablespoons apple cider vinegar if you don't have lemons)
Good quality salt to taste
Quarter cup olive oil (or more)
Ascorbic acid/vitamin C

How-to: Start by grinding the nuts/seeds finely in the food processor. Add the garlic and greens, and spin until well broken down. Leave the motor running and slowly add the lemon juice, salt, ascorbic acid and olive oil through the hole in the lid. You may need to stop once or twice and scrape down the sides. Watch as you add the olive oil: at some point, the whole paste should become homogenized and integral.
Ascorbic acid: despite the lemon juice, I always add this to pestos and guacamoles because it's the only thing I've found to prevent browning so that the food is still beautiful later. I keep vitamin C powder, but you can just open one or two vitamin C capsules and pour the powder in.

So, now you have the pesto and seriously, it takes less than ten minutes. You can make it the centerpiece of a meal in various simple or more complex ways.
Simply dip carrots and jicama in it, or crackers if you like (and have them handy).
Use it to stuff bell peppers, or layer with sliced tomatoes and sprinkle with poppy seeds
Use it to dress your preferred spaghetti, whether that's kelp noodles, durum wheat pasta, rice noodles or spiralized zucchini.
Thin it with more lemon juice and some water to make a delicious dressing for greens and tomatoes.

This is what I did for Phil last night: not gluten free, not vegan, but good for Phil and took fifteen minutes:
A cup of pasta takes about eight minutes to cook al dente.
Meanwhile, I sauteed half an onion and a cup of chopped clams

 ...then added two cloves of garlic, half a cup of pesto and a little water.
Drained and salted the pasta, stirred in the clam-pesto mix, garnished with sliced tomato.

 I could imagine an even more delicious version with kelp noodles and mushrooms instead of pasta and clams...

Meanwhile, my own dinner was squarely within my current tweak: not a mono diet, but maybe a 'tetra diet.' More on that in my next post!

Have you had nettle pesto before? If you don't have nettles where you are, you can make this with any other herbs, but if you can, do try nettle pesto: it's so earthy and delicious. I haven't seen anyone that doesn't like it.

"Recipes for Poets" and Two Book Reviews

I hope everyone's having a beautiful day. No more charging moose up here today, but I did bike past a mother and two calves yesterday afternoon: they'd unashamedly taken possession of a neighbor's front lawn, despite her three horses and two dogs close by. Been a long winter and frozen alder twigs offer meager sustenance: they must be so excited for the grass!

When we left for our trip three weeks ago, I was perplexed by an identity crisis of sorts, hinging on whether it's ok to talk about food so much when it's poetry that holds my life together. Thanks to a post from Erin, my attention was drawn to the 32 poems blog and the invitation there to participate in a round-up of recipes for poets. Most poets have other work that distracts attention from their art, you see, so time management is of the essence. Especially when you've just been on a trip and are discombobulated and finding it hard to get back down to any kind of work; when checking Paris Review or reading blogs seems terribly urgent, even if far less important than the real work. I've spent much of today translating Greek lemmata and am feeling better.

So, on May 20th--two days away--I'll be posting a twenty minute recipe that would provide a healthy meal to a poet, or anyone else, without much time-donation. I was supposed to say so by May 15th, but I hope they'll have me anyway. I'm excited to connect with other poets who also love to write about food: a sense of camaraderie will eclipse any anxieties about not fitting neatly under one specific label. I'll stick with something spring-like and delicious. Maybe the next day, I'll share some specifics of my latest diet tweak plus exercise ramp-up that I mentioned.

There are several book clubs in Homer. I'm in two of them and both happen to meet on the same day, which was yesterday. So, I read two very different books in quick succession: one non-fiction, one fiction, both 'first books,' both written by women around my own age (yes, I felt envy!). Book club reminds me of seminars in grad school in certain ways, although I have to be careful not to think of it like that too much. But there's the same sense of stimulation from hearing others' thoughts, the same imperative to walk the tightrope of diplomacy and forcefulness when delivering my own observations.

In the first book club, we read The Immortal Life of Henrietta Lacks by Rebecca Skloot. This is the story of the woman who died of cervical cancer in 1951, but whose cervical cancer cells had been cultured before her death and continue to live and divide to this day. It is also the story of her family, indigent, black, uneducated, who were not informed of any of this until much later, and their attempts to understand and also simply to survive in the world.

It's an impressive and informative read: I appreciated the refresher in basic biology and was fascinated and appalled by turns to read of the sociohistoric and medical ethics aspect of the story. And the thoroughness of the research both of the scientific facts and of the human connections, the actual people involved in the story, was magnificent and truly respectful to those involved. I kept imagining the writing process of this book: the reader is allowed to feel very close to that process.

Everyone in the book club was similarly impressed. It provoked some interesting discussion among us over medical ethics and whether a person owns their discarded body parts.

In the second book club, there was unanimity also, and this time there were more misgivings in it. We read Michelle Hoover's The Quickening: a novel set in Depression-era agricultural Iowa and told through the alternating perspectives of two very different farm women, neighbors.

It is a bleak story, as befits the era and place perhaps. In terms of the 'show, don't tell' dictum, there is very little 'telling' as such and the 'showing' is effected through the taciturn diction of the time and place. This means that so many things are implied or half-said, one has to read between the lines a lot. I 'got' the various implications and felt inveigled into a world of closed doors and mouths, where one might understand weighty events only dimly, be ostracized for little reason, go into labor before realizing one was pregnant. However, several other people didn't 'get' them and felt both confused and annoyed with the author for not being clear. If she wants us to know what happened in the story, the argument went, what does she gain by sort-of half-showing it and then bringing it up in full much later?

I find these kinds of criticisms very instructive, and apply them to my own writing, since (as an avowed Heraclitus-lover) I have an affinity for riddles and obscurity. If several people don't 'get' something I've written when I share it at writers' group, I usually revise it. It's a judgment call we all have to make: touching the mystery without obfuscating. (Did I just obfuscate by my choice of word there?)

Charged by a Moose, Shipping Charges and Others

Close to a month ago, I decided that it was time to get a dehydrator. That very day, a refund check arrived in the mail that would cover the cost and I took it as a sign. Ever since then, I've been stoked and excited at the idea of having a dehydrator, looking forward to all the things that I would make with it. I anticipated having it shortly after we returned from our trip.

I wanted to make crackers for Phil, which he loves so much. I wanted to make all kinds of granolas and camping foods for the summer. I wanted to make my carrot bars but unbaked. I wanted to try to make nettle chips (not kettle chips, not kale chips)--we have nettles here now, and I'm loving the heck outta them!

 I've made my first batches of nettle pesto--nettle/cilantro, and nettle/parsley/basil.

 Yummy, and takes just a minute to make.

Thank you so much for the suggestions about my breakfast smoothie: I'm working on something much simpler right now.

 Nettles, a piece of baked yam, some cooled herbal tea--that's it! This time, I felt sick too--but I think I od'd on the nettles (didn't even know it was possible): it was a whole blenderful of raw nettles... So, still a work in progress.

Back to the dehydrator: that digression was realistic--it takes me a long time to make purchases like these, to do all the research and figure out the best fit for what I need. I made a purchase yesterday, but it turns out that I'm going to have to wait another month to have the machine. It was going to cost $50 to ship it up here, but shipping was free to the lower 48. So, I've had it shipped to Phil's mom in Oregon, since we're going back there for a wedding next month. I have some sadness, having allowed myself to get so excited and anticipatory, but I recognize that it's just a delayed gratification, and $50 for just three extra weeks of use was something that even my intense hankering couldn't justify. I've waited this long, after all...

I went with a 5 tray 2000-series Excalibur. Given finances and space available, it seemed like the best option and I got a good deal on eBay. Now I'll just have to anticipate a little longer. One of the disadvantages of living in Alaska is that a lot of commodities are not available in the stores here but are also harder to ship up here from online stores. There are whole classes of things that Amazon won't even ship here. Many other companies offer free shipping to the 48 but charge an arm and a leg for shipping up here. I try to pay attention to the accompanying advantages: that we're not in the midst of commercialdom, are in some pretty unspoiled country. And sometimes, I wish I could have my dehydrator and use it too.

Speaking of high charges, we got charged by a moose when we went hiking a few days ago! There were four of us, heading down the Diamond Creek trail toward the ocean. It was raining gently and the willows, all furry buds and dancing wands, were undulating in the drizzle. I noticed a moose running down the path away from us and called out to point it out to everyone. A moment later, it turned around and ran at us. We slowly moseyed off of the track, which winds down the bluff with cut sides, and stood against the uphill side. The moose's hackles were up and its raw, musky smell overpowered the balm of gilead wafting from the budding cottonwoods. It stopped about 20 feet away from us, then hesitated, legs splayed, then charged toward us again, much closer, and sheered off at the last minute to plunge down the almost sheer cliff. I had to go look over the edge and ensure that it hadn't plummeted down: for the size of these animals, their sure-footedness is phenomenal.

The encounter was over so swiftly but we could smell the moose's odor for many feet down the trail, and see the coarse bristles that it was shedding.

I didn't feel scared, although I was very much aware that the moose was afraid, and was far bigger than any of us. Intense, though.

We hiked several miles up the beach with our friends. They had their backpacks and were going to camp on the beach. Our one friend's pack was quite impressive to me:

He confessed that he'd packed 'the kitchen sink!'

I love the beach north of Homer: it's accessible and yet truly remote and wild: we often see seals, otters and all kinds of birds, as well as coyote tracks and other sign. The bluff is also constantly dynamic: I particularly love this rock at the toe of the bluff that looks like a turtle head--it does, doesn't it?

We left our friends out there when they found their camping spot and hiked back, racing the tide. It seems like when we go on long beach hikes, we often end up having to go much faster on the return leg to beat the tide, where I'd prefer to go slower on the way back.

That said, I'm continuing to be amazed and gratified at my continually increasing exercise tolerance and even enjoyment! I've actually taken on a training program for myself, as well as some dietary tweaking, that I'll talk about soon. Charged up!

Do you take time over online purchases or make impulse buys? (Usually, as I said, I take ages, but very occasionally, something is so compelling that I buy it more rapidly.)
Would you be alarmed by a close encounter with a moose?

"Nearly Normal's:" Restaurant Review and Other Musings

While we were in Oregon, Phil's sister and her husband came down to the farm and we all went to town (Corvallis) to eat at Nearly Normal's, a veggie restaurant featuring what they call 'gonzo cuisine.'

I feel like our own life is full of 'nearly normal.' Like this turkey, one of our neighbors' birds, who's become broody and decided that this pile of fishing net floats is her clutch of eggs.

I was rude--I got too close and she's stalking off. Bad photo. Unfortunately, the resident weasel in the woodpile seems to have been pilfering quite a few of her eggs, judging by the shells in its poop...

At Nearly Normal's, you order food at the bar, right inside the door, and then seat yourselves. Most people sit upstairs, as did we--here are Phil's mom, sister and brother-in-law...

It's a beautiful, airy place and those screens and plants really help to mask the ugly air-conditioning unit on the roof right outside and divert your gaze to the trees beyond.

The menu is diverse and richly themed: it's easy to avoid tofu if soy's not your veggie, they have Mexican-themed and American-themed dishes as well as breakfast foods and a few curries and other Asian dishes.

I was enticed by a chipotle veggie and beans dish but upon inquiry it turned out that it was irretrievably gluten-laced. They have little sub-menus that tell what is gluten free and what is vegan and I was pointed to those--very helpful.

Is it nearly normal to dig up a whole mature apple tree, drive it 250 miles and plant it in your yard at the end of a long journey?

Or to replace the berries in your smoothie with peas, and then replace those with green beans (even though they don't taste as good) because the omega 3:6 ratio is better?

Ever since I lived in the Bay Area, I've found a pink flamingo theme cropping up in art and kitsch, in people's front yards and bathrooms, climbing their trellises. It sneaks up on me here and there in my life, and apparently it's part of Nearly Normal's theme too!

My husband's daughter's fiance has a bunch of pink flamingos in his yard, variously beheaded and mangled: it seems they make moose angry.

Underneath the pink flamingo in the Nearly Normal's upstairs dining room is the stairwell by which the food is brought up. I was impressed with how straight the waiter had our order: I imagine that could be a glitchy thing if people are ordering at the bar, with special quirks and requests.

You also get to collect your own silverware and bus your plates afterwards, and they have water on tap in both the upstairs and downstairs eating areas. The water was delicious, btw--not chlorinated tap water nor nothin'.

What is gonzo cuisine? According to their website, it refers to an emphasis on fresh ingredients, organic where possible, to inventing original recipes, using thoughtfulness in preparation and presentation of the food, as well as a cooperative work environment where even the cooks do dishes. Sounds good to me: the atmosphere was lovely in general and I could imagine I'd enjoy working in an environment like that.

Three of the six of us (including me) chose the curried veggies with tofu or tempeh, rice, raita and raisin chutney. My plate had neither tofu nor tempeh, and sliced cucumbers instead of the raita.

I had a nibble of someone else's tempeh and almost wished I'd had some: it's a fermented product and thus less worrisome than unfermented soy, and it was tasty! The menu listing did say 'curried vegetables' but I was somehow expecting more of a sauce on the veggies: it really was discrete vegetables over rice. I liked it, but I prefer my curries more saucy. That was the second time on my trip that I had rice on my plate, actually ate a little of it, and noticed no ill effects. A good sign.

Phil had a spinach lasagna and was happy with it. His sister had the pad thai, which turned out to be angel hair noodles on one side of the platter and veggies on the other (she was expecting the flatter noodles that usually associate with pad thai) but she said it was very good. His mom had the red thai curry. It looked a bit heavy on rice noodles and tofu and light on veggies to me, but she liked it (except for the tofu).

I thought the food was very good, especially for the reasonable pricing. It's down-to-earth rather than spectacular: a word that comes to mind is 'wholesome,' in a good way. I was glad that it's the kind of place that you can bring the more traditional 'meat and potatoes crowd' and know that they'll be happy too!

And I'd far rather be 'nearly normal' than 'normal,' I think--wouldn't you?