still life drawing of a peach

All the campfire cooking; s’mores of course, banana boats, and peanut butter, marshmallows and mini chocolate chips wrapped in tortillas wrapped in tin foil and thrown into the fire to turn melted and charred. There were these cast iron contraptions we acquired on “cookout days”. Long thin handles and two halves of a rectangle that hooked together on top. In it we put slices of white bread drenched with beaten egg. On top, chopped onions and peppers, mounds of cheese. A savory french toast sandwich, steaming, gooey, hot. We were not a hundred feet from the mess hall, the craft area, the lifeguards, but beyond that were trees, forests extending out like a loosely knit web or cocoon.

I remember the boy she knew from before, Jesse, half-streaked by shadows so the bits of him we did see come back in my memory as glowing. He was roommates with the guy Bella and our other companion, Stephen, known not-so-simply by has surname, “Chiboucas,” had bought their weed from. I don’t recall if this supplier was with Jesse or what the walk across campus was like but we all ended up back in Bella’s. 

Even now I marvel at her ability to make a room feel contoured to human living in a way that felt intuitive, or, at the very least, not known to me. When I don’t think too hard, I tend to drift to a more no-frills approach to interior design; a paper garland covering half the length of a wall; a single Ikea pillow on my bay window. I seem to remember Bella’s room, on the other hand, as being covered with posters, photos, any bit of paper she with which she could attach meaning. Her linoleum floor was covered with a rug made of large, slightly rough loops of yarn. Even her clothing and jewelry, spilling out of her closet, and her skis propped in the corner served as decoration, indications of a person fully living within a space

This went further. Whereas I thought our student meal plan would satisfy our hungers, Bella brought with her a mini fridge and, no, she did not fill it with beer. She would make runs to Trader Joe’s or bike to the near-ish farmer’s market for fresh-made tortillas, fruits, and weird snacks.

Recipe Round-up: ****Bean Edition****

Some of my favorite legume-y, lenticular dishes to showcase the beauty and tastiness of the diverse family or plant-based protein sources

-Chana Masala: everyone’s favorite Indian take-out dish, but homemade! It tomatoey and full of spices and downright homey. Perfect comfort food. I don’t like soap in my food so I omit the cilantro. 

- Herby chickpeas: If you want your chickpeas ASAP, may I suggest dousing them in lemon juice and olive oil and tossing with an obscene amount of herbs? A perfect portable lunch, especially with this insane olive grain salad. 

- Mujadarra: This lentil-rice dish is timeless, basically, but i first discovered it on the blog of Lagusta Yearwood, life-long vegan and creator of the hashtag #beansarequeens. And while humble, the combination of caramelized onions, a hint of paprika and not much else had me eat it right out of the pot on many a spring break in college. I think it’s a lovely lesson in the tastiness of restraint. 

- Dosas: I had my first Dosa at an unassuming restaurant in Jersey City that looked like it used to be a McDonalds. It was mindblowing, obviously. Basically crepe batter made of basmati rice and urad dal (a white bean used in Indian cooking), it is spread really thin, wrapped around some sort of filling and served with coconut chutney and sambar, a tomatoey soup. My housemate in college would make it using whatever bean and grain we had lying around the house- millet, red lentils, brown rice, etc- and eat them with salsa as a snack. It didn’t take long for it to become my favorite as well. You can start off making them the traditional way or try a more makeshift, casual style. Either way, the fermentation stage is crucial for the best flavor. 

“I can’t believe there was a time I didn’t know what to do with a lentil.” I said, incredulously and not without hauteur, to my friend Jade, stirring a boiling pot of them in her kitchen. I said it again a few weeks later to my friend Harris, cooking yet another pot of those little protein disks (uh, sorry for that, maybe??). And though I have had plenty of time to hone my relationship to all legumes- dals and peas and beans alike- it is not too hard to remember when they were mere mysteries, both in their preparation and their purpose. My first exposure to them may help explain this confusion. My parents had this cabinet at the edge of their kitchen that holds their mostly untouched but still extensive liquor collection, stale holiday-themed sprinkles, half-used bags of powdered sugar and flour, batteries, for some reason, and a bunch of floppy bags of legumes, untouched for who knows how long. When I saw my first bag of pinkish lentils in that cabinet, I remember wondering “what the hell do you do with a lentil?”.

I can now say my fluency now extends to legumes of all sorts and, now that I know them better, I would even say that their affordability, versatility, and impressive nutrition specs make them among the best of foods.

It is the taste aspect, however, that may prevent beans from entering your mind when asked, “What should we eat tonight?” In the weird, meat-centric, confused food culture in America, lacking the ingrained culinary history that defines most other nations’ cuisines, beans can seem weird, inconsequential. When introduced from other culinary traditions to our palate, beans may seem like accompaniments, side-kicks at best- the refried bean to the carne arrovadas, the dal to the chicken tikka masala, the hoppin john to the ribs, etc. Or, they may be left out altogether, replaced by something more familiar or conventionally tasty.

But I know the role of the bean does not have to be like this.

That’s one of the cool things I discovered after adopting a vegan diet five years ago; our tastes are dictated not so much by some inherent deliciousness in some foods over others, but, rather, the flavor and meals with which we grew up, for which we had a cultural context, what we were told by our parents, friends, advertisers, tastemakers, were good. And, more importantly, when you break down our favorite foods into their matrix of flavors and textures, you can open up a whole range of possibilities for your palate. A craving for mac n’ cheese, points less to one platonic Idea of macaroni and cheese; from the boxed kind, to the baked casseroles with breadcrumbs and broccoli, to the stovetop bechamels, we all know that this one dish has all sorts of iterations. But beyond the name, what connects these dishes is the combination of sharpness, creaminess, carbiness and softness.  And why can’t other dishes like. say, pasta covered with a nutritional yeast and nut-based sauce or even a Thai coconut milk curry over a pile of jasmine rice, satisfy that craving as well? I’m no trying to say any of these dishes are all the same and the one can always replace the other, but that our tastes are much more fluid than we think.

It’s funny, all these years later, I actually have to exert some mental effort to conceptualize that some people, most people, actually, truly, genuinely enjoy and get excited over a rare piece of steak or a whole chicken, or like, pork shoulder? I don’t know! Having decided to eschew meat, my palate began to shift, and my cravings followed. I love nothing more than brothy beans and wilty greens doused in olive oil, or a thick, tomatoey bowl of chana masala to get my protein fill.

And sure, meat is chewy and marbley and comes with built-in fat, just waiting to be rendered out of it and I think that’s cool. But oil exists, as does all sorts of aromatics, texturizers, seasonings, add-ons, finishers, etc. That may be what excites me about legumes. They’re the blankest of slates for you to elevate or fuck up at your leisure. Cooking with meat, to me, is like bowling with bumpers; it’s easier to reach your goal, but you have so much help already! Beans on the other hand, are akin to taking away the handicaps; while gutterballs are more likely, you will find your skills refining, your results more honest.

Brunch Menu (Winter)*

Baked chickpea “shakshuka” (like this but with chickpeas instead of eggs)

Orange-avocado salad with red onions  (this or this will do)

Granola clusters (?!? or ????!- the old standby)

Yogurt as accompaniment

Imagining this as a Mother’s Day brunch, my grandma, aunt and cousins over- all of us sprawled all over the house from the night before- on futons and couches and pull-out beds, vaguely assembling throughout the morning. Mormor would probably be up first, drinking tea and doing the crossword in her nightgown. My mom and I would be next, chopping grapefruit and avocado, simmering the chickpeas and my aunt would be around, too, helping us do dishes. The light would stream in from the sun room and we would marvel how bright it gets, and how early. Lauren and Steven would be up by now, drifting in and out of the kitchen, asking questions, drinking coffee that my mom brewed. And finally, when the table is set, the yogurt slumped into a bowl, the salad artfully arranged, we would rouse Christina, the late sleeper, from her slumber and we would all sit down and eat.

Hand tossed salad with homemade mustard, nounou*, sauerkraut

Alison Roman’s tomatoey lentils with lime and peanuts

Wild rice stuffing/salad combo (think)

Dates over greek yogurt, drizzled with tahini, flaky salt.

Some stuff I’ve been cooking, been wanting to cook, have loved for a long time

-As a love of the crunchy disc that forms at the bottom of a pot of grains, this crispy rice is a game changer; no parboiling or weird rice-piling techniques, just a little bit of salt and oil, some strategic heating and letting the rice be for a little. (The first time i made it I was so obsessed with not burning the rice that the area where i kept checking the bottom of the pot was devoid of a golden crust. The parts that did have it- oh boy. As long as you keep it on low for the last thirty minutes, you can leave it be, I promise. 

- It’s been a long time since I’ve had smoothies on the regular, but this strawberry one was a welcome return. I didn’t have any milk but it tasted just fine with water to thin it out. I added a bunch of romaine too for extra nutrients and I couldn’t taste it at all (a good thing). I often have problems with smoothies keeping me full, but the addition of oats made it just fine for dinner and then breakfast again the next day. Also really want to make her snack cookie recipe soon. 

- I’m always on the lookout for new banana bread recipes and Stella’s tips look to have the potential to step up my game. Love the addition of coconut oil and while I’ve never heard of someone specifying just-ripe bananas over the black, mushy ones, I trust her enough to give it a try. I also don’t have to wait so darn long for the bananas that way. 

-Harris made an awesome black-eyed pea curry last night with coconut milk, ginger, turmeric, fenugreek, cardamom pods, cherry tomatoes. I don’t have the recipe since he improvised the whole thing, but he let the stew simmer for over two hours on low heat, which really did wonders to the melding of flavors. More time= more flavor.