Eat your vegetables, part 1
My attempts at making sauerkraut without all the self-righteous and time-consuming pounding. This batch got pushed into a jar, covered with water and sea salt and is burbling away on my dresser.
Outside, the Southwest is its typical October showoffy self. The sky takes no cloud prisoners. Colored leaves spin on loosened stems, then twinkle to the ground. The sun is yours if you want it. Each day holds a little less of summer, a little more of winter.
Inside, I prepare food. My current eating regime requires a certain tethering to the kitchen. Any meal or snack falling under “grab and go” is only such because I’ve already chopped an acre of vegetables, coated them in a barrel of fat, stirred, sauteed, roasted, or otherwise prepared a stockpile of food which can be parceled out on a busy Friday. Generally, I like being in the kitchen. It’s command central, in which I’m available to comment on Rose’s latest artistic series of smiley-toothed horses, or spot Col before he sneaks out the door with a lighter and dried bits of flammable shelf mushroom.
My body continues to lean towards healing, though it hasn’t been the linear process I’ve come to expect as an impatient American. This healing is more like a long journey in which the roadmap is written in Swahili and then got accidentally burned by Col and his lighter trigger-finger. I mean, I know where I’m trying to get to, just no idea how long it’ll take. Sometimes it’s a little surreal. I went to a block party last weekend and drank tea while the keg got tapped, flowed and then went dry. Recently, in the car, the Guess Who song No Sugar Tonight came on and Col and Rose asked, sincerely, “is that song about the paleo diet?”
Which is to say, I’m 100% committed. This healing diet, which looks a lot like a paleo diet, which looks a lot like meat and vegetables, is well, a lot of meat and vegetables. I feel most reassured when there is a deep well of prepared veggies in which to dip my thermos. I figure between trying to make a living and becoming kinder and more patient people, we’re also all trying to eat more vegetables, right?
Welcome to my new series (ha! you’ve heard that before, no?) on how to eat more vegetables.
Answer number 1: Roasted vegetables.
It’s just as easy to roast one as four trays of vegetables, as the oven and oil do the work. The veggies keep well in the fridge for days, intensifying in flavor over time. The vegetables go in the oven stern and disparate, and come out like one nation of caramalized and festive people.