Tuesday, January 17, 2006
To brie or not to brie
Like a riding segway, this posting is a lazy girls way of expressing her deepest guilts: dairy and too much fun out. Is a dairy hangover better or worse than the hangover from a long night out? Brie taunts me like an unavailable man calling me trouble. They only say you’re trouble to make you prove yourself. The brie and the man sit off to the side, daring me to have a cracker. Of course I know I can’t eat it, but why shouldn’t I? Just a taste, right? Is that enough? What do you do when, say you can’t control yourself after that first, smooth bite?
I look at the tray, knowing it is a mistake, that my stomach will hate me tomorrow, even the next day probably. I can even sense myself battling, the Clash circling my head—Should I eat? When all is said and eaten, of course I end up standing next to the plate, enjoying every last bite of brie. Trying to stop myself only makes makes me eat more in the end.
The difference? Dairy and that unavailable man? I looked myself in the mirror, bloating and all after my brie-ndulgence and liked the person looking back at me. This morning that was not the case. Hummus can’t help me now.
Isn’t amazing how things that are bad for us draw us in? I find myself drawn to the brie because I like that I can’t control myself and that I will have too much and that it will hurt me in the end. I find myself like a moth, drawn in and unable to resist. What ever happened to the sanctity of soy? I must begin a non-dairy lifestyle. Dairy free may not be exactly what I want, but in the interest of self preservation, I will swear off all dairy.
Except cottage cheese. And yogurt. And maybe a little parmesan...
I look at the tray, knowing it is a mistake, that my stomach will hate me tomorrow, even the next day probably. I can even sense myself battling, the Clash circling my head—Should I eat? When all is said and eaten, of course I end up standing next to the plate, enjoying every last bite of brie. Trying to stop myself only makes makes me eat more in the end.
The difference? Dairy and that unavailable man? I looked myself in the mirror, bloating and all after my brie-ndulgence and liked the person looking back at me. This morning that was not the case. Hummus can’t help me now.
Isn’t amazing how things that are bad for us draw us in? I find myself drawn to the brie because I like that I can’t control myself and that I will have too much and that it will hurt me in the end. I find myself like a moth, drawn in and unable to resist. What ever happened to the sanctity of soy? I must begin a non-dairy lifestyle. Dairy free may not be exactly what I want, but in the interest of self preservation, I will swear off all dairy.
Except cottage cheese. And yogurt. And maybe a little parmesan...
Sunday, January 01, 2006
Hummus and World Peace, how do they go together?
Okay, I know I compare hummus to all sorts of things far greater in importance than the simple garbonzo, but humor me and let me show you how hummus and world peace coincide:
I find it particularly important to point out that although my ultimate goal is the perfect hummus, I recognize that it is no more likely to actually find that than it is for all conflict to end on earth and for us to achieve peace on earth. That doesn’t mean I can’t try.
Peace and harmony are a true blending of opposing, coninciding, similar and completely opposite goals, ideals, people and cultures. Not the melding into one, merely the coexistence and acceptance. For example, not that hunter gatherers in southern Africa should become South Africans, but rather that they should maintain themselves and be accepted while recognizing the outsiders’ points of view. This seems simple, but it is not.
What is simple, however, is that, like humanity, hummus is about coexistence of markedly different forces. Ingredients, not people and flavors, not cultures must come together without becoming each other.
I find it particularly important to point out that although my ultimate goal is the perfect hummus, I recognize that it is no more likely to actually find that than it is for all conflict to end on earth and for us to achieve peace on earth. That doesn’t mean I can’t try.
Peace and harmony are a true blending of opposing, coninciding, similar and completely opposite goals, ideals, people and cultures. Not the melding into one, merely the coexistence and acceptance. For example, not that hunter gatherers in southern Africa should become South Africans, but rather that they should maintain themselves and be accepted while recognizing the outsiders’ points of view. This seems simple, but it is not.
What is simple, however, is that, like humanity, hummus is about coexistence of markedly different forces. Ingredients, not people and flavors, not cultures must come together without becoming each other.
Is making hummus the same as living life?
Although certain essentials, ie the chickpea, the tahini, the garlic are present, every hummus must be just a little different and find its path just as we, as people and preparers of the homemade hummus, are. My path has taken me here and there, to adventure and beyond. Similarly, the batch I made with the perfect mix of lemon and cayenne, went beyond adventure to a spicy place no roasted red pepper can ever hope to go.
As we make mistakes in life, a bad haircut, for example: we can remedy them with time. The same holds true for a hummus that is a little uneven in its tahini-lemon balance. Choosing something you know is bad for you (a boyfriend or a pairing with bad feta), is not only something your mother warned you of, but can also leave a bad taste in your mouth.
Which is worse, a bad hangover, or the memory of hummus gone awry? I ask this because the next day you may be seen swishing back Dewars, but will there be a plate of hummus or a bowl of salsa next to it? The time it take to recover from a hummus-preparation debacle may be shorter than the time it takes to move past your cheating ex-boyfriend, but nothing is more healing in the event of the latter that a perfectly prepared plate of hummus with clear, crisp, yet smooth flavors that are simpler for your pallatte than any man on your soul.
As we make mistakes in life, a bad haircut, for example: we can remedy them with time. The same holds true for a hummus that is a little uneven in its tahini-lemon balance. Choosing something you know is bad for you (a boyfriend or a pairing with bad feta), is not only something your mother warned you of, but can also leave a bad taste in your mouth.
Which is worse, a bad hangover, or the memory of hummus gone awry? I ask this because the next day you may be seen swishing back Dewars, but will there be a plate of hummus or a bowl of salsa next to it? The time it take to recover from a hummus-preparation debacle may be shorter than the time it takes to move past your cheating ex-boyfriend, but nothing is more healing in the event of the latter that a perfectly prepared plate of hummus with clear, crisp, yet smooth flavors that are simpler for your pallatte than any man on your soul.
