JLoeats.com

ok I will step down from my soap box. (if only for a day.) my last two posts were pretty riled up, and today was not that kind of day in jlo’s food world.

It’s starting to smell a lot like Christmas, which means I’m getting more and more nostalgic for good food, warm family gatherings, and the excitement of snow.

It was really cold today – in the minuses which I hadn’t seen since my days in Toronto last winter.

Never the less I was the most surprised today, hitting all emotional plateaus possible, on my journey venturing off into Brooklyn in search for a scintillating (my new favourite word by the way, next to effervescence) conversation with a woman I’ve gotten to know as my boss lady and inspirational leader at my PS146 School Garden Internship.  Thursdays this semester has been  reserved for the refreshing real life practical experience I know I needed and fought to have since the beginning of the semester.  So since I spend so much of my time with my head in books with idealistic arguments and discussions or at the library digging for more research during the rest of the week talking about food, I like to reserve Thursdays for doing my favourite thing, which is learning to process my food life by actually EAT-ing food with good company.

I was brought back down to earth and smiled the biggest smile this week, as my school garden mentor opened her home up to me so warmly in today’s chill that slapped me across my insomniac face the moment I stepped out of my apt, and onto the street.  As per usual, I got off the wrong stop, and got lost (BK is somehow my West Village east of the river – like a Bermuda triangle — hard to find and get to, and hard to leave when you want to) But was met with an incredibly kid friendly and warm heart at the door, when I finally found it.  M showed me in and sat me down at the kitchen table.  “This is my friend M, Janet is an NYU Food Scholar” said like a proud mum.  The kitchen was lit by the sunlight beaming on her incredible family backyard garden through the window.  I was in awe before she even uttered my favourite afternoon word – Lunch!

She placed a plate of the most homey spinach and mushroom fresh tomato lasagna I have ever had tasted, next to a bowl of sauteed beet greens and kale.  Mmm home made food full of love, gimme gimme!! :)

We sat eating and chatting while sitting in the most lived-in posh park slope ikea kitchen well suited for a hip and happening young family in the middle of brooklyn.  Behind me was a wall of food books, putting my newly formed stash to shame.  This was a woman who was well educated, well read, and well versed on how to live hot to grow, eat, and feed. And on top of all of that, she did it all out of love, as a mother of two.

wow.

inspiration comes in many forms, and i couldn’t help but secretly go “I want this too… some day…”

And then, I was propositioned. “Want to go over to L’s house across the street to see her chickens?”

I still had Lasagna in my mouth when I tried to cover up my apprehensive “Surrreee…”

Live Chickens.

We bundled up and walked down the street. L opened the door and showed us straight into the backyard.  Look there’s one laying an egg right now in the wooden hand made nesting coop.  R M’s daughter was running all around the yard after the birds.  She was fearless, and I was jealous of a two year old.  M was laughing and chasing a few trying to catch the birds foraging on the ground bouncing in and out of the chicken coop. “Janet want to hold one?!”

Chicken in my face… “uaaaghhhh!!!!”

I knew this day would come. A day in my career that I would have to face my childhood irrational fear in the eye, and eat it.

haha no just kidding, but at least coexist with the poor animal…

yea, poor me.

Touch it, you can do it, look at those feathers, they’re brilliant! They’re all set for winter, and they’re warm.  They even have feathers on their claws. How silly. Then the hen in L’s arms looked me straight in the eye.  I froze still.

My mind was playing tricks on me now, I was even bartering with myself and my own guilt. “I want to grow, I want to learn, I want to prove that I can handle anything now…Just reach out your hand, ok maybe just a finger…”

But I couldn’t move.

“Janet are you ok? you seem a little traumatized”…

“Umm, yea…”

Flashback to 2nd grade.  30 students sitting outside in the school yard in a circle. Ms Fredrick takes the 3 out of 6 hatched chicks out of the makeshift cardboard box home and into the center of the circle to let them hop around and feel the grass under their two day old claws. I sit nervously, secretly wishing that the chicks don’t come anywhere close to me, as I kept a keen eye on all three fluffy and no longer alien looking wet babies from the incubator, bouncing around in the circle.  Ms. Fredrick looks over at what I can only imagine as a look of horror on my 7 year old face.  “Janet, would you like to hold one?!” If my eyes didn’t widen, I was probably shaking my head profusely.  “Oh come on, they’re soft and fluffy” Teacher lady, do I look like I care how soft they are? Look at those beady eyes! That sharp beak! Those CLAWS! Unless it’s a teddy bear, don’t let those things come near me, or I’ll bolt… And before I knew it, I felt two sharp claws digging into my bare cross legged lap. WHAT THE… I squirm to try to move it off without actually touching it just when Ms. Fredrick plops down behind me (I’m trapped) to take my left arm to turn my palm open. (I don’t like where this is going) She grabbed the chick and put it on my hand.  GET THOSE CLAWS OFF OF MY SKIN! She grabs my right hand and pets the bird with it. “Isn’t it soft?” Hysterical, with snot and tears running down my face by now, I agreed in a soft muddle of a voice that I had left only to get her off my back, literally.  Feeling like that moment would last forever, I closed my eyes, and sat still hoping it was all a dream.  When she finally took the chicken off my hand, I bolted like lightning out of that circle faster than I could regain my sight.  I wiped the tears off my face, took a few deep breaths as Ms. Fredrick turned to Jen my bff sitting beside me who had just had her apprehension confirmed by my hysteria.  She sat wide eyed, jaw dropped, and shocked when she was asked “Do YOU want to hold the chick?” Jen started to cry too, and I returned to the circle to sit next to her.  At that point Ms. Fredrick finally gave up on the both of us and moved onto the other more willing and excited kids.  Embarrassed, vulnerable, and dragging my feet, I looked down the whole time as we moved back inside to our classroom.  Thinking that I was home free, Ms. Fredrick called for everyone not to return to their desks, but to sit in a circle on the magic carpet.  Thinking it was storytime, I happily complied, only to be met with great disappointment when Ms. F decided to see why the other 3 eggs did not hatch. She cracked them into a bowl, and showed the under developed fetuses to the class like it was her special show and tell moment.  “So this is why God didn’t let them hatch, one chick’s leg was wrapped around it’s head…the other two still look like breakfast but with eyes…”

How I even put chicken into my mouth years after that still remains a mystery to me now as an adult, but I guess it didn’t count if they were just McNuggets…

L was still holding the bird, and offered to hand her off to me.  I graciously denied as I stared the bird straight in the eye.  How can such a small animal, muster up so much fear in my mind.  I must learn to let go. and thank my lucky stars that I didn’t have to kill anything today so I could eat.

I scurried back into the living room when L finally put the bird down and invited us into her house.  Luckily, Cleo the family dog followed me as she was over joyed and excited to run around me in circles.  Attention attention attention, love me love me love me, pet me pet me pet me! OK!

“Calm and assertive jlo… calm and assertive, just like Cesar says…Mmm, my hero”

She leaned on me while I pet her for a good ten mins while my heart melted from fear into a puddle of puppy love all over her warm belly and playful paw paw fishing for high fives in the air while her hind leg rested on my knee.  They talked about knitting, mom stuff, and L even offered me a chance to write in the upcoming district school newspaper about all the work I’ve been doing this semester and my assessment with the edible school garden.  Just then, her poor one eyed and jaw broken black cat that sounded like Darth Vader meandered by and walked over to the window sill to stare at the chickens in the backyard.  My thoughts exactly, Let’s go. When I finally got up to leave, half of Cleo’s coat stuck on to my coat, and for the first time, my OCD-ness didn’t care.  Man, if i ever become a mom, my life change completely… Look at all the dog hair! Look at all the toys everywhere! R’s face was covered with chocolate, She was staying home from school because she was coughing, and M was helping ME out with my project in the middle of all this crazy! My mind was racing. Between all the food talk, the animals, brooklyn, and lack of sleep, I was going through major sensory overload — even for a blueman junkie like me!

On our walk back across the street, M expressed that she would miss L soon.

“Why’s that?

“They’re planning on moving out of BK into the burbs to have a bigger family farm, and get goats and stuff… ”

“Wow. How awesome.”

“Yea, she’s the kind of woman who knits her own dish towels too…”

Again, my reality check was connecting all that I’ve been reading about the movement of people growing their own food, and becoming sustainable in an urban area versus the realities of creating a food system for yourself, and relying on the current food system blindly.  Here were two women with families who were doing it all on their own, with pride, with integrity, and a whole lotta flare.

Just then giggling two year old Rita grabbed my hand with the amount of trust that warmed all the voids of my little heart.  We danced, laughed, and twirled down the neighbourhood street that boasted 9 gun shot misfires just last week.  But alas, we were home.  My goodness, what a sweetie, and she didn’t even say a word.
“I swear she can talk”
Actually, her non stop laughter is what I preferred. and I could’ve listened to her giggles all day.

Digestive Chocolate Cookies, Tea, and a Two Hour Interview later, R streaked through the house after she had so patiently played by herself destructing her older sister’s tower of love in the massive pile of toys in the living room.
It filled my heart with joy,
she was flirting with me,

she wanted to play, and i played along too.

Nnnnnnnnnnaked baby!!!!!!!

I couldn’t help but smile too.
and laugh along,
at how free she was
at how unbelievably uninhibited she was
and how excited she was to run around her own space, comfortable,
naked, and without a single care in the world.

and for a moment, i joined her and basked in that careless moment too.

and we laughed some more.

It was inspiring.

I wouldn’t have chose to spend my Thursday of this crazy pre finals week any other way.

When it was time to go, I smacked my lips to say goodbye to the hundreds of little fishies in the three separate tanks that filled the foyer.
M sent me packing with a fresh baked loaf of bread wrapped up.  She also lent me two food books.  I graciously thanked her over and over again for the incredible sense of time well spent, and found my way back onto the train – Manhattan bound once again.

One of the two books was The Edible Schoolyard by Alice Waters.

“This is what I aim for, this is my inspiration” – M.  Like reading Harold McGee to see what inspired Alton Brown, I felt like I had just been given the secret code to a secret food world filled with the kind of strong independent womanly Mom love that I have been so desperately searching for.

I cracked it open like the loaf of bread, and her subtle yet soft intro to her story,
written in the simplest way was like finding the soft warm center.  It was so easy to get lost in my imaginary world of someone doing good in the land of California, my once promiseland,
as more weathered New Yorkers with frozen brisk and daunting expressions joined me on the train back into the crowded & crazy city.

The exit pops me out right into the middle of the union sq holiday market.
singers, bells, xmas lights, and presents all around,

aghh, back into the land of consumption.  Any other time in my life, I would have ended this day with some major shopping therapy, but I decided to run into the whole foods across the street to (ironically) buy some eggs instead. “Hopefully there would be no eyes when I make breakfast tomorrow” … ha ha ha, awww…  and I found a fair trade hand made scarf for my momma for xmas.

Thus for all the times I complain about agribusiness and the cold realities of what seems like a broken food system driven by survival and greed, this post is for all the full-time Mom’s out there who work to feed their families with nothing but love each and every day, no matter what it takes.  I solute you, you are strong, you are beautiful, and you are an inspiration in the most quiet ways sometime.  Just like the chicken, I fear realizing that some day I too will be in the same shoes, laying my own eggs and hoping for the best, even though I fear for your future as a momma bird doing what it takes to survive and our future searching for the best food possible for our young. But all in all, I appreciate you, for everything you have taught me yesterday, today, and tomorrow about how to live.

*Thanks for All the LOVE over the years of fighting to keep me well and happy MOMMA. ;)

Lufff youuuuu

xoxo J xoxo