Saving the World, One Meal at a Time

Today is wrong. You know what I mean. The kind of day where everything is just "off". It's 12:15 PM right now and I'm only just getting a cup of coffee, which I should have finished by this time. And I made it in the Cursed Mug, the one that couldn't give me a good cup of coffee if it had been filled by a barista in a posh Italian coffeehouse. It doesn't matter what I do. Every single time I've made coffee in it so far it's tasted blah. You would think I'd have learned my lesson by now, but no. I suppose today's coffee might be a little less blah than usual. It doesn't matter. It still tastes weak and overly milky with notes of cardboard. And so it goes. The kids are outside in the mellow winter sunshine, trying to break up a piece of snowy ice with some shovels while my husband works on breaking up a wooden palette. The rusty, orange nails sit in a pile on my porch and they look so pleasingly rustic...

But back to my awful day. Last night I went to sleep a little earlier than I normally do, around 12:30 AM after nursing the baby and trying to get him to go back to sleep until I enlisted my husband's help to rock him in his own room next door. The baby's own room, that is. Not my husband's. I can see how that'd be incredibly confusing. But it didn't matter. The baby woke up a few times and by morning I was feeling like I'd been hit by a train. After a very slow morning routine with baby adamantly refusing his cereal, then getting angry that he wasn't getting any, some burping and lots of tears, he finally settled down to his first nap. Four hours later.

At this point in time, my kids have returned from the great outdoors and like small wild animals are nosing around my kitchen trying to find some grub. I hear munching. The sound of success and a tortilla chip being scarfed down. I can't really blame them, though. It's lunchtime.

My kitchen is experiencing a weekend hangover the likes of which I haven't seen in a while: There are dirty dishes on every surface. The limited counter space, the stove, the kitchen table, even some chairs. And yet here I sit, blogging as though I didn't have a care in the world. I don't, for now. The dishes aren't going anywhere. They will still be there when I'm done. I get that some people have a "do it right now!" mentality, but that's just never been me and nobody is miserable for it. I also have a super limited energy supply after dealing with kids and baby so if I chose to do the dishes over pushing it off until after my reserves were replenished I'd pretty much cease to be a human being and exist as a machine. Not cool. Blogging and photography actually help replenish my stores and remind me of the person I am outside of Mommyhood and Wifedom.

Blogging takes the ordinary, dull grind of the daily gears and turns it into a musical, where life is lived out as though every moment is meaningful, the mundane act of living is given higher purpose. Sharing my life in words that I can see confirms to both myself and to the world that yes, it happened, I was there. It also gives it a reason for happening. If my words happen to directly or indirectly benefit someone in any way, they have purpose. Likewise, Photography for me takes a single moment in time and freezes it forever, holding it in place in color and light so it can be relived again and again. They say a picture is worth a thousand words. I posit a picture is worth a thousand worlds, for in a single moment captured, an eternity of possibilities awaits, potential and inspiration beckon, worlds are made and broken, lost and found, all from a singular space pressed onto a canvas or shuttered onto film. The notion is a humbling one.

Or, rather, it used to be...

I question though my ability to have such an effect on anyone when art forms of all kinds have been so cheapened by overuse and by everyone. When everyone can snap a picture in the time it takes to blink and words are given free space everywhere, at every moment, what worth do they have? Yes, everyone has a story, but which stories are honestly worth telling? I have a feeling that the only reason classic literature has earned its stature is because they simply appealed to the higher classed, well-read, cultured folk of the time, and that had they been written today or even properly seen through today's social and artistic lens would be considered "penny novels" and relegated to the bargain bins of time. Likewise, todays' blogs and books will be tomorrow's dust-laden attic finds. Most will be forgotten. Some will be worthy of retelling. Some will resonate with tomorrow's youth. Some will be downright prophetic. Some will be sensationally scandalous and drama-inducing. Maybe the media will have evolved from their primitive nature of drawing on other people's pain and misery like starved dementors. Maybe it will be exactly the same. And so it goes.

I suppose it's my artistic nature that draws me close to the darkness. It's the artist in me that is both thoroughly confounded by and completely in awe and unafraid of the darkest parts of human behavior, the ineffable human condition as it were. I want to spend my life understanding why people do evil things, what drives them to this spiritual sickness, how to reverse the disease and how to keep it from spreading to others. I believe if evil is treated as a disease it can be vanquished. I also believe that if we treat evil as a disease we will stop being shell-shocked when it happens and start the healing process right away. Imagine a sick patient arriving at a hospital and instead of immediately being assessed and treated, the doctors and nurses stare, wide-eyed in horror, at the prospect of someone being "sick" and then spend the next few days getting over their shock. It sounds ridiculous, offensive even, to suggest such a thing. But this is the nature of most people when they hear of terrible tragedies involving terrible people. First there is that initial shock, almost angry indignation, as though we, in this enlightened year of 2018, couldn't possibly have among us people who get sick. You might argue I’ve crossed a line, that people who get sick don’t choose to be sick and that people DO choose to do horrific things. I don’t think it’s contradictory. Rare and mysterious diseases aside, when a person treats their body with care, they don’t get sick as often. If a person is allergic to dairy and avoids it, they are treating their body with care to avoid sickness. If they ignore their body’s cues simply because they want a scoop of ice cream, they are risking their health for a mere few minutes of enjoyment. The same goes for anyone on a particular diet or healthy lifestyle choice. The same could be said for people who are morally ill. What started them down that path? What caused them to make those choices? Perhaps if we exhibited less shock and more of a desire to understand the epidemic of evil we could go about the noble work of surgically removing it.

The notion of evil being pervasive in this world doesn't frighten me. I imagine there are thousands more like me. At least I hope so. I also hope that as years go by we will collectively become less and less afraid. The world used to fear disease as well and failed those who were unfortunate enough to get sick. "Sickness" of any kind merely indicates that something has gone awry somewhere and it's our collective duty as stewards of the Earth to fix this grand machine called the world. My aim is not to "change the world" with my words. I am far too small for that. My aim is simply to shine a light in my little corner of the world and hope that there are others who are lighting up theirs. In that way we will each light up the world one tiny flicker at a time until this who world is aglow. What is this light? Kindness. Even- especially- to people who don't deserve it.

There is a saying in Hebrew, "Olam hessed yibaneh", which means "a world of kindness will be built". The fate of the world is in your hands and mine as well. If we all work hard enough, I thoroughly believe that it will become a world I am proud to hand over to my children. There's hope for us yet.

To fuel you on this mission, I cooked up something amazing!

Slow-Roasted Tomato Risotto with Basil, Balsamic Vinegar and Black Garlic. It really represents my whole food philosophy: resourcefulness, creativity, simplicity and class. I'm actually so pleased with how it came out! After I cooked it for lunch and photographed it my middle child tasted it and decided she wanted her own portion, so I made another fresh batch and they all enjoyed it for dinner. I'm usually not one for recipe-keeping, but decided this one was really a gem and I have to make it in the future just as I made it this time.

I had slow-roasted tomatoes a few days before so that I could extend their life in my fridge as I wasn't sure what I'd planned to do with them and didn't want them to age while I figured it out. Then I pureed them, which reigned in my wild imagination and gave me more of a focus. One night last week I had a hankering for risotto and thought I'd make some with mushrooms and use some of the black garlic I'd purchased on a whim about a year ago(!). Instead, I remembered the roasted tomato puree in my fridge and did away (mostly) with the mushroom idea but kept the black garlic in the periphery of my mind.

As it turns out, adding the black garlic was the nest idea ever. It allows the risotto a chance to stand on its own and it leaves the flavour domain of that cheap, often canned "tomato-rice" soup. The balsamic vinegar capitalizes on this and a nice depth to the flavour is achieved. The emerald reisling might seem like an unusual choice here, but given its slight spiciness and fruity notes, it just works. Now, a word about risottos: I get that everyone has their own methods and tricks when it comes to this dish. Some will use the crockpot or "bake" in the oven. Here, I stick with the most authentic method I have learned and allow it be a little thicker and stiffer before I remove it from the heat. You can tailor it however you'd like.

Slow Roasted Tomato Risotto with Basil, Balsamic and Black Garlic

Ingredients:

For the Slow-Roasted Tomato Puree:

2 Cups Small Tomatoes, such as grape or cherry

Olive Oil

Kosher Salt to taste

For the Risotto:

1 Cup Arborio Rice

4 Tbsps Butter, divided or 2 tbsps Olive Oil

1 Small Red Onion, chopped

1/4 Cup Dry or Semi-Dry White Wine, such as emerald reisling

4-6 Cups Prepared Vegetable or Chicken Stock, kept at a gentle simmer on the stove

1 Tsp Parsley, minced (fresh or frozen)

2 Tsp Basil, minced (fresh or frozen)

1/2 Cup Tomato Puree

1 Tsp Balsamic Vinegar

2-3 Cloves Black Garlic, well mashed or pureed with a little olive oil

Kosher Salt to taste

Freshly Ground Black Pepper to taste

Parmesan Cheese, grated

Pan-Seared Wild Mushrooms, if desired for serving

Instructions:

1) Preheat oven to 350F. Arrange tomatoes in a shallow baking dish and drizzle on some olive oil. Toss tomatoes to coat. Sprinkle on some salt to taste. Roast in oven for about 15-20 mins. Then remove, flip the tomatoes around a little, lower the oven temp to 300 and continue roasting for another 1.5- 2 hours or so until tomatoes are super soft, appear to have split and juices have been slowly extracted and are caramelizing. Allow to cool. Once cooled to room temp, puree in food processor until smooth. For maximum smoothness, puree in blender. Chill in fridge until use to help intensify flavours.

2) In a walled skillet, melt 2 tbsps of the butter or olive oil on med heat. Once hot enough, add the onion and cook until softened and translucent, about 3-5 minutes. Then, add the rice and toss well to coat in the oil. Cook rice for about 2-3 minutes, until a slightly nutty aroma can be detected. Immediately add the wine and stir it in very well until completely absorbed.

3) Add the hot stock in ladles of about 6 ozs. Add the first ladle of stock and stir it in well until almost completely absorbed. Rice should appear just slightly wet with only a slight bit of liquid collecting at the bottom of the pan. When this happens, add the next ladle. Keep stirring the risotto every so often to prevent scorching. Repeat this step for the first few ladles. As the risotto cooks, more stock will be absorbed and the rice granules will become more plump and elongated, so keep an eye on slight changes. If the risotto appears to be cooking too fast, lower the temp to med-low and proceed.

4) After the sixth ladle, add the parsley and basil. Stir well to incorporate. At this point, you will notice the risotto start to thicken. Depending on how high your temp is, you will need more or less stock. Begin tasting after the next ladle. Add salt and pepper to taste.

5) Cook your risotto to "al dente", when the grains have softened considerably but still have a slight bite to them. Rice granules should be plump, long and starchy, but not mushy. Risotto should be creamy, not soupy or runny. When the pan is tilted slightly, risotto should flow very slowly to the other side. Right when you suspect it's done, turn the heat to low to keep warm.** Stir in the tomato puree, balsamic vinegar and black garlic and gently heat until desired consistency is reached. Immediately remove from heat and stir in butter, if desired. Serve, topped with parmesan cheese and shredded basil leaves.

**If using this recipe for Arancini di Riso Con Formaggia di Capra, stop here.

As I'm finishing this off, I've got a baby with flailing limbs on my lap and kids who are hungry again, now for dinner! Guess today might've started off wrong, but at least it's ending alright. I got my long-awaited blog post up!

Wishing everyone a good evening!