mushrooms + garbanzos on toast with cider + thyme

IMG_7354

 

Growing up, I showed horses and my favorite discipline was dressage. I remember quite distinctly at the end of each test, after the final bow, of letting all my breath out, feeling suddenly exhausted, and realizing I had forgotten to breathe, again.

 

I’ve been taking a break from running these past few weeks because of an injury and the process has me going a bit mental. I’ve been turning instead to yoga to get me through. Bittersweet that it is, I can see progress in the yoga. I feel the difference in certain postures, that I can go a few breaths deeper than before. More importantly, through it I’m finally learning how to breathe.

 

IMG_7356

 

The transition from running has opened up space, realizations. I’ve been using it to fill voids that I wish weren’t there, like a band-aid that isn’t fixing the problem but merely covering it up so it’s not so exposed. Problems and injuries don’t go away because of their band-aid. They go away because they’re given the other things necessary to heal: time, rest, honesty, fixing the underlying problem, giving up control to a higher power, breathing.

 

The truth is, I had an eating disorder. I used running, both physical running, and running away from the situation, to heal and band-aid the recovery. It was years ago and I long considered myself recovered, but there’s scar tissue; a lot of it. I’ve been tiptoeing around it for months, hoping the scars will sort themselves properly without too much mental muscle. It’s funny when I write it like that, how silly that sounds. Of course unaddressed issues don’t sort themselves without work.

 

IMG_7361

 

I know there is no miracle fix to cure me in a week and my mind does not have to be my enemy. I don’t have to hate the things it thinks, beat it up for not being good enough, punish and restrict my body to master control of it, or band-aid it to ignore the ugliness of the wound. I have no business comparing or wishing things weren’t the case. I have to work at acceptance, at forgiveness, at okay-ness, and just be kind. I’m practicing gratefulness, daily.

 

The thing of it is, I love the goddamn band-aid and the kick-ass feeling of accomplishment. Running is simply what I do so there is grieving here too.

 

IMG_7363

 

I’ve been praying a lot though this process. I’m motivated by achievement, by progress, by better, faster, another box checked. I have a tendency towards extremes, and there’s a fine line between achieving to be a better person and teetering off into unbalanced territory. Through yoga and prayer, I’m realizing I don’t always have to be achieving big things. Enjoyment doesn’t have to mean pushing so hard to go further, faster, better. Progress can stew together slowly, painfully slowly, and it’s alright to be cracked open, raw and exposed in the meantime. Just breathing.

 

Back to yoga. Each time I return to the mat I’m reminded how much tension I carry. Even though I’m not running, my muscles are so tightly wound up, my mind too, confused amidst the misaligned mental fibers. I’m reminded to return to the breath. Just breathe. Just breathe. Just breathe in and let it go.

 

IMG_7383

 

mushrooms and garbanzos on toast with cider and thyme, serves 2

This dish is special simply because it’s quick and comforting. The cider melds in with the mushrooms and garbanzos to make a sweet little savory gravy. I used hard cider and splurged on fancy shitake mushrooms from our local mushroomery. A cider-juice and any type of mushroom will work, though the nicer ones will result in a richer flavor. Choose a thick, rustic-type bread to hold up to the mushrooms and garbanzos. If you eat gluten-free and want to make your own, I recommend Jennifer Katzinger’s Gluten-Free and Vegan Bread. My favorite is the Quinoa Sandwich Loaf, shown here. Unlike most gluten-free bread, Jennifer’s recipes are predominately whole grain and use chia seeds instead of tons of eggs to bind the flours, resulting in a real-bread texture.

1 Tbs. canola oil

1 shallot, minced

1/2 pound shitake mushrooms, chopped small

1-2 sprigs fresh thyme, leaves removed

splash of apple cider vinegar

1 cup cooked chickpeas or other small white beans

3/8 tsp. poultry seasoning or make it yourself

1/4 tsp. salt

1/8 tsp. black pepper

1-1 1/2 cups hard apple cider

1 tsp. arrowroot starch

splash of water

2 thick slices bread, toasted

  • In a medium sauté pan, heat oil over medium high. Toss in the shallots and cook until they are soft and sizzling, 4-5 minutes.
  • Add in the mushrooms, thyme, and vinegar, and cook until the mushrooms start to soften.
  • Stir in the seasonings and chickpeas, and then pour in the cider.
  • Once the cider starts to bubble, turn it down to a low simmer, and cook until the cider is reduced by half to three-quarters, stirring occasionally.
  • In a small dish, whisk the arrowroot starch with a splash of water and then pour into the mushrooms and beans. Let cook another minute or so, until it thickens up.
  • Toast the bread, and then lay each slice on a plate or in a shallow bowl. Spoon the mushroom mixture atop and serve warm.

Winter Roast Roots, Black Rice + Figs

IMG_7309

 

That evening I lay down, propped

across his chest,

tears.

A comforting thing

his cool expanse of breath. With each

release

hope transferred, at-home

my soul.

Solid centering root,

sea uncertainty,

life dance.

 

IMG_7301

 

Winter Roast Roots, Black Rice + Figs, serves 6 or so, as a side

Some weeks feel inextricably more difficult than they need to. This dish is the sort of winter tonic to show the negative energies I’ve a bit of sassafras yet. Moody, dramatic, a touch sweet, earthy. Roast up any combination of winter vegetables. Parsnips and celeriac are January favorites. Kohlrabi are clever, if elusive. They’re best found in a winter garden round these parts. Ask a farmer. Or your eccentric neighbor with a fondness for funky purple vegetables. Mushrooms make a lovely addition. Don’t forget the figs. They add just the right touch. 

 

IMG_7311

 

2-3 parsnips, roughly chopped

2-3 carrots, roughly chopped

1 onion, roughly chopped

1 celeriac, peeled and roughly chopped

3 kohlrabi, stems removed, peeled and roughly chopped

4-5 stems thyme, or 1/4 tsp. dried

1 tsp. salt, plus additional salt and pepper, to taste

olive oil

1 cup black rice, rinsed

2 1/4 cups water

1 small bunch kale, destemmed and chopped

1/2 cup dried figs, diced

Preheat oven to 400 degrees F. Prep the roots and toss them with the salt, a dash of black pepper, and olive oil. Roast until tender, 45 minutes or so.

Meanwhile, combine the black rice and water and bring to a boil on the stovetop. Turn down to low, cover and cook for 40 minutes.

While rice and roots are cooking, dice figs, and prepare the kale. A couple minutes before the vegetables come from the oven, toss in the kale and allow to wilt. Then, remove the vegetables from the oven, toss with the rice, figs, and season to taste with salt and black pepper.

Thankfulness Brings Increase + Parsnip Carrot Cake Oats

IMG_7243

 

I cozied up with the first of the year baking dense loaves of rustic pumpkin + rosemary bread and drinking a good, strong pot of tea. I had a plan to identify main themes from the old year and move forward with a new vision and sense of putting 2014’s dis-ease to rest.

 

Though I know it’s not so simple as wiping the slate clean on New Year’s Eve and waking up in the new year free from the baggage that has accumulated, the introspective process of looking back at the bigger picture of the year helps me move foward into the new. From this practice, one particular message from Ryan Hall, an elite runner I follow, came to the surface and has since been floating around my consciousness. Nearly a year ago, Ryan shared about thankfulness, being thankful for what you have in the moment.

 

I can measure 2014 by the swinging polarity between connected and dis-connectedness, of being ready for life’s battles and feeling broken down and unworthy. I’ve often felt a sense of discontent, not-enough-ness, of missing out on living, especially when I look to social media. These feelings of inadequacy have been a catalyst for many negative behaviors in the past, and they were certainly a theme that stands out this past year.

 

IMG_7270

 

On Thursday past, I was looking to shed light on what I can achieve in this new year to be more satisfied, to measure up. Instead, Ryan’s words came back and reminded me of what I can be. This winter season is one for filtering out the clutter, the noise, the comparing and measuring, to simply be thankful. What I have to offer–what I bring with me into 2015 that is less than I thought it should be by now–is exactly what I can be thankful for in the present.

 

When I get quiet, I know my truth is that everything I need will be provided at exactly the right time. There will be room for big achievements and worthy mountains to climb in the coming months. But for now, I am focusing my energy on looking for the good in each situation. This year, I plan to live more fully by Ryan’s words. Thankfulness brings Increase.

 

IMG_7250

 

Parsnip Carrot Cake Oats, serves 1-2

We began the new year with a baked-version of these oats, but this is the one I’ve been making lately. It smells like the holidays are still with us, with the addition of spices and orange peel, but tastes oh-so-January with the hearty duo of carrots and parsnips. Use any type of oats. Sometimes I mix in a combination of old-fashioned and Scottish-style. Old-fashioned oats can be ground semi-fine with a coffee grinder or food processor to achieve the Scottish style consistency. 

1 1/2 cups water
1/8 tsp. salt
⅛ tsp. cinnamon
⅛ tsp. ginger
Pinch of nutmeg
1 small carrot (50 g), finely shredded
1 small parsnip (50 g), finely shredded
1/4 cup raisins or dates
3/4 cup old-fashioned oats 
orange zest
1-2 Tbs. ground flax seed

  1. On the stovetop, put the water, salt, spices, raisins, and shredded roots in a small saucepan and bring to a boil.
  2. Once it comes to a boil, turn down to medium and let cook until it is soft and nearly all the water has been absorbed, about ten to fifteen minutes.
  3. Take off the heat, and zest about 1/3  of an orange over the mixture. Stir in the ground flax.