Cook It Out

despair has no flavor, but hope does

Firelei Báez, Temple of Time, 2020

When the color runs out of the world, food loses taste. My cravings, usually so razor sharp, dulled as the election result rolled in. My endless hunger left me. I just laid on the couch, staring out the window. I won’t dwell on politics, we’re all so tired. It feels like all the love you pour into building your future is nothing against those who wish you ill. It’s exhausting. I won’t try to predict how the next years of our lives will unfold. No one knows anything, and every hot take makes my skin crawl.  But I will suggest shrinking our focus. We should control what we can and build out from there. We all need to fortify our foundations. Start with dinner.

Cooking isn’t the same as eating. When I lose my desire for food because of depression, heartbreak, or any of the other wounds that come with living, cooking becomes clarifying. It will bring you back to yourself. You have to be present when the onions are frying, otherwise you’re getting burned. I let myself wallow for a day or so this week then pulled my ass off the couch and started life again. I wiped my counters; I swept my floors. I used what I had in the fridge to make a soup for my wife. I found the solid ground I had been missing as the beans simmered and softened. There are things in this world that you can control. Cooking for yourself and the people you love is how we move forward. Build your community around your kitchen table. Widen your circle as you grow steadier. Feed the people who feed you in return. We all deserve nothing less.

I am not an optimistic person; I’m far too practical for that. I stay guarded against overcooked rice and flat cakes no matter how many times I’ve made them. I check and recheck the baking soda and baking powder to make sure I haven’t mixed them up. I taste my soup at every stage to ensure I’m on the right track. I don’t want to be caught on my heels. But hope and optimism aren’t the same thing.

No one draws this distinction clearer than the Czech author, dissident, political prisoner, and eventual statesman Václav Havel. In interviews conducted before his release from prison, eventually published as Disturbing the Peace in 1991, Havel makes the case for hope.

“Hope, in this deep and powerful sense, is not the same as joy that things are going well, or willingness to invest in enterprises that are obviously headed for early success, but, rather, an ability to work for something because it is good, not just because it stands a chance to succeed. The more unpropitious the situation in which we demonstrate hope, the deeper that hope is.

Hope is definitely not the same thing as optimism. It is not the conviction that something will turn out well, but the certainty that something makes sense, regardless of how it turns out. In short, I think that the deepest and most important form of hope, the only one that can keep us above water and urge us to good works, and the only true source of the breathtaking dimension of the human spirit and its efforts, is something we get, as it were, from ‘elsewhere.’ It is also this hope, above all, which gives us the strength to live and continually to try new things, even in conditions that seem as hopeless as ours do, here and now.”

I have hope. Cooking will keep my head above water and give me the energy I need for the hard work ahead. Every meal is a victory. Remember that. Every meal shared with the people I love gives me the strength to keep on living, to be the thorn in the side of all of those who mean us harm. Zoom in and you will see that in your life too. Not ready? That’s ok. You will have a seat at my table as long as you need it. One day you’ll have the energy. Until then, here’s some soup.

Butternut Squash Stew with Red Lentils

Makes enough for 4 people

Olive oil

1 sweet onion, diced

1 carrot, minced

1 butternut squash, peeled and diced (approx 4 cups)

1 tablespoon fresh minced ginger

4 cloves of garlic, minced

½ cup sliced green onion

¾ cup red lentils

2 teaspoons soy sauce or tamari

1 teaspoon garam masala*

½ teaspoon ground turmeric

Zest from ½ a lime

One 15 ounce can full fat coconut milk

4 cup veggie broth

Juice from 1 lime

Salt and pepper to taste

Cilantro

In a large soup pot, warm up a little olive oil over a medium high heat. Add the onion with a pinch of salt and sauté it around until it starts to brown in some spots, about 5-8 minutes. Add the carrot and butternut squash and cook for another couple minutes until the carrot starts to soften. Toss in the ginger, garlic, green onions, and lentils and cook for another minute until everything starts smelling delicious. Drizzle over the soy sauce, the garam masala, turmeric, and lime zest and cook for another 2 minutes so that everything gets coated in the spices. Add the coconut milk, broth, and then let the pot come to a simmer.

Once the pot is simmering, turn the heat down to medium low and let it cook at a slower simmer for another 15 minutes so that the lentils are tender, and the butternut squash is soft. Turn off the heat, add the lime juice and salt and pepper to taste. Serve warm topped with cilantro and some more green onions with more lime wedges on the side and some quick pickled shallots right on top.

 Don’t know how to make those shallots? Just slice a shallot or two, toss them with a little salt, and drizzle over some rice vinegar and lime juice. Let the shallots sit while you cook and that’s enough. Quick pickle completed.

*This is a great spice blend that should be with the other spices at a well-stocked grocery store. Can’t find it or don’t even want to look? Sub in ½ teaspoon ground coriander or cumin, ¼ teaspoon ground cinnamon, 1/8 ground cloves.

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Thanks for spending your weekend with me. I appreciate having you here. Need help figuring out what to cook for the next couple weeks? I’ve created a fall flavored Meal Manager to help you turn off that part of your brain so you can focus on taking care of yourself. I’ll send out the info on Sunday.

Until then, take care. I’ll be thinking about you.

Xoxo,

Michelle