There's Beauty in the Bellow

All sorts of odd responses to food and ideas as to what's "healthy." Turkeys were more expensive this year. One woman rather complained about it, saying something to the effect of "I don't even know why we eat turkey." "Well, maybe we'll switch to eating pork someday," I replied. "I hope not," she said, "that's even worse for you." Huh? Who comes up with these distinctions? Maybe I have been suckered by the "Pork: the other white meat" campaign. I've heard about the evils of all animal protein, or the relative healthiness of fish or poultry over red meat, but this was new. Another woman, pushing a toddler in her cart, bought coconut milk. I asked about it, since it was new to me and looked yummy. "Well, I wasn't going to feed her cow puss, and I didn't wan't to do soy because it's been so genetically modified, and I didn't want to do almond milk because it has nuts in it, but coco...

#1: Slice asparagus stems in half lengthwise and steam. Pile asparagus, thinly sliced radishes, sliced pears, toasted walnuts, and your last dollop of ricotta onto a plate. Sprinkle with fresh thyme, salt and a splurge (ie, a copious rain) of black pepper. Drizzle with balsamic vinaigrette. Sit down at the table with your salad. Inhale. Make sure to try different combinations of flavor and texture. Radish and asparagus. Pear and radish, with ricotta. Pear and asparagus, then with a walnut, then with ricotta. Ricotta and asparagus, swirled in the balsamic vinager. #2: Slice and saute a couple mushrooms with a little butter and salt. Once you have them in the pan, make a phone call: by the time you have gotten off the phone, the shrooms will be well underway. Wilt some spinach in the microwave for about 30 seconds. If you have gotten distracted and your mushrooms have gotten a bit cold, include them in the last step. Top with your mushrooms, thinly sliced radishes, chopped grapes, walnut...

If we cannot control our appetites for food, then how are we to discipline our appetites for violence, sex, pleasure (caffeine, drugs, alcohol, etc) or the accumulative appetite? Obesity is entirely our own fault. We are individually responsible for whatever "conditioning" leads us toward this "disease."

Critics depend upon structured arguments to make their points. A novelist primarily structures not arguments for the reader but experiences. Unlike our more random encounters with the actual world, the experiences we find in a novel are entirely verbal in origin, and they are shaped by their creator specifically with us, the readers, in mind. As we progress through a novel, we live in its world with an intense, imaginative participation very rarely, if ever, generated in us by any kind of purely expository writing. Thus somewhere--exactly where, no artist and no critic has ever discovered--between the immediacy of a lived, concrete encounter, and the limited intellectual engagement created by expository prose, exists the mysterious participatory experience offered by imaginative literature. The Religious Dimension of Jane Austen's Novels , Gene Koppel, 122.

Wash, rinse and dry grapes. Wash, rinse and dry cilantro. Pick a firm grape. (Usually the firm ones fall off first when you shake the bunch.) Tear off a few leaves of cilantro. Deposit cilantro and grape in your mouth. Bite into the grape with your back teeth so that it bursts in your mouth. Press the cilantro against your tongue as you eat.

Her method was just that: the intensification, or concentration, if meaning in words until they glowed "as no sapphire"---until, that is, they became, in mutually supportive combination, the Word, a poem that could "dwell among us," alive, a corporate fusion of meaning and (like human life) mystery. This sense of life is the most difficult of all things to create---and she knew that, too. This is one reason, surely, why many of her poems seem cryptic, incomplete, barely reducible to coherent statement, as if she was conscious of an element of the ineffable, even in usual things, like hummingbirds of sunsets. ~ The Life of Emily Dickinson , Richard B. Sewall

Then I was beside Him, as a master workman; And I was daily His delight, Rejoicing always before Him, Rejoicing in the world, His earth, And having my delight in the sons of men. Proverbs 8:30-31 Isn't this what poets, artists and writers are supposed to do?