a healthy dose of skepticism

It's not because most do it that it's right, or worthwhile repeating, or adopting without questions.  Living with intention means asking questions and doing what you do with awareness - so knowing why you do, what you do, the way you do it.  When you don't question you conform.  You don't stick out, but you may not have made an informed decision either.    

 Over here people who eat meat mostly eat steaks, chops and roasts.  In other parts of the world all parts of the animal are used, and offal or innards are eaten so no part of the animal gets wasted.  Over here we pay an awful lot for college.  In other parts of the world college is free.  Over here we pay lots and lots for medical care.  In other parts of the world medical care is free or inexpensive. Many boys over here believe most colors are for girls, especially pink and purple.  Hence they wear drab blacks and greys and blues and browns.  

Do you feel more comfortable conforming?  Or do you prefer to dig deeper because you wonder why?  Going against the grain is bit like swimming upstream and it forms character because you have to defend your other way of doing or thinking.  It doesn't matter what it's about, but it matters whether or not you've thought about it before making a decision.

it's part of the culture

Flower shops, chains and independent ones, are a thing in Germany. Everyone buys cut flowers.  You bring them when visiting in the afternoon for coffee and cake, you give them when invited for dinner, you get them for yourself, or you offer them just because.  At home growing up we always had beautiful cut flowers on the birthday table, dad included, no gender bias.

 While I was waiting in line at the flower shop a few days ago in Germany, a young man picked two bunches of tulips and had them arranged with some pretty leaves.  He said he was three minutes from home and asked if he needed to cut the stems again once back, obviously interested in their care.  An older man bought two bunches of narcissus, for himself I gathered, because he had them wrapped in plain brown paper, no arranging.  A woman got forsythia branches for her home.  I waited in line to have the flowers for my mom prettied up with greenery.  

Flowers are not only a women's thing in Germany, as I could attest from the diverse line of shoppers.  The displays are abundant, arranged by type of flower and color. The cost is always reasonable. You can take the flowers home as is, or, as many people do, have them arranged professionally with skill and greens, wrapped in gift wrap or plain brown paper, all for just a small extra fee.

Cut flowers are part of the culture.  They add to the enjoyment of life, they beautify a corner of your home, or place a glint of pleasure in the eyes of the receiver.

garnet colored arils

Winter foods in cold climates tend to be heavy, and we like them warm, those comfort foods.  But in between all of that warming and comforting I need some bursts of color and freshness.  Citrus is of course a great winter adder to my food repertoire (here a recent post on that), but my favorite must be pomegranates.

Years ago we visited Morocco in October.  Several large pomegranate shrubs, or small trees, grew right outside our ground level hotel room in Zagora on the edge of the desert. We plucked and ate, and plucked and ate with abandon, as we had never experienced so much abundance of such an exotic fruit.  Here, pomegranates are a special, if somewhat common, winter treat that pops up around Thanksgiving and is pretty much gone after Christmas.

Their ruby red color is sumptuous, and even just a few of those arils, the fancy names for those juicy  seeds, make any dish look festive.  On a special occasion I’ll drop a few into a glass of sparkling wine, where they bob up and down like lava lamp blobs.  Sprinkled over salad the garnet red seeds look gorgeous in contrast to the greens, and provide a surprising burst of fresh and tart and sweet flavor.  For Thanksgiving I made a delicious and beautiful pomegranate and cranberry salsa to contrast with the meat and heavy side dishes.

Pomegranates are part of famed Israeli-British chef Yotam Ottolenghi's food heritage and he cooks a lot with them, way beyond my simple uses.  Check out some of his recipes.   I love expanding my repertoire to keep cooking exciting, mealtime a discovery for those I cook for, and add different nutrients. Pomegranates are full of antioxidants and vitamin C, something we can really use in the wintertime.  

we need hope

What would life be without hope?  The teaser weather out there, 60F/17C with a sunny sky, is delicious and totally un-February like and feels so good.  At lunchtime I let the sunshine soak my face to catch up on some wintry vitamin D deprivation, and revel in the illusion that spring might be right around the corner. The breeze felt so balmy and I opened the windows to let the air in.  After three months of cold and dark and gray this unexpected weather intermission is so welcome and bright.  

Sometimes it's hard to wait, whether for spring or for something else. But what would life be without hope?  Hope keeps us going, whether we yearn for spring or for something else.

a real market

Supermarket shopping is somewhat sterile and aseptic when compared to how people in other parts of the world shop.  We are used to our clean and brightly lit stores with their tiled floors, and aisles and aisles of packaged goods. Neat and organized, and most food out of the way of hands and noses.  Only on the perimeter can you find fresh fish and produce, but even the meat is prepackaged and sealed in plastic, and most bakery items are factory made and displayed in clamshells or plastic bags.  Items are bar coded and prices are set.

In a search for authenticity, freshness, local produce and a more direct connection to our food, farmer's markets have taken off in the past twenty or so years in this country, but many of them have an air of exclusivity and are expensive. Not so in other parts of the world.  

Markets, either open air or in permanent indoor halls, are the way the rest of the world shops.  In European markets we admire abundant displays of cheeses, produce piled high in attractive pyramid shapes or displayed in baskets, meats and charcuterie spreads, just caught fish and shellfish glistening with freshness on crushed ice, locally baked breads and pastries, but also clothing, cleaning products, flowers, and food stalls for a coffee or snack while you shop.  The French touch and smell their produce to make sure it meets their standard of ripeness and aroma.  The fruit merchant will ask you when you want to eat your melon and select it based on its level of ripeness.  When you buy fish you look at its eyes and gills to ascertain freshness, and to make sure it doesn't smell, well fishy. Cheese too needs to be bought for when you want to eat it.  Too hard it will need to sit for a few days, too soft it is past its prime.   Do you want to eat it today, tomorrow, or the day after?  The cheesemonger will help you select your cheese accordingly. The butcher may ask how you plan to prepare your chosen cut and perhaps offer a recipe.

The colorful markets of Africa, Asia or South America, are even more exotic to us.  The souks in North Africa are organized by type for better comparison.  In the slipper souk you find stall after stall of nothing but slippers, while the spice souk has stand after stand of spices heaped into neat cones on flat wicker trays, and the date souk specializes in the myriad types of dates of which Morocco has over one hundred.  Here, the vendor may give you a date or a few nuts to taste to persuade you that his are the best, here you need to bargain because it's part of the game and prices are not set.  You can buy everything in these markets, including live fish and live poultry, clothes, dishes, spices, or household items.  In more rural areas the wares are spread out on cloths or tarps on the ground, as we have seen in India. The smells by the fish or cheese stands may be pungent, the colors of spices piled high on trays are vibrant, the sights and sounds of live poultry kept in large wicker baskets in a Chinese market are noisy.

We lose aliveness, authenticity, rawness, real connection to our food, as well as the beauty of these enticing displays that make us want to taste and buy all of these wonderful foods,  when we remain in our gentrified bubble.  It's good to get out every once in a while to see other realities.  Here an earlier related post on the need to get out.