Loquats, Haiku, and the Good Life

Until last week, we didn't even know that loquats existed, but one of our neighbors gave us some on Friday. They had a decadent, faintly tropical flavor. Sweet and juicy, they were more like an apricot than anything else, but also possessed undeniable notes of mangosteen, kumquat, and--with some imaginative insight--even apple. They were too good to squander on fresh eating alone, so we decided to preserve some of them as loquat jam.

This morning, I looked up loquats on Wikipedia. They originated in Southeastern China, home to a famous poet, Li Bai, who mentioned them frequently in his poems. There's something sublime about oriental art. Take this painting of loquats.

Or this beautiful haiku by the great Bashuo Matsuo himself:

An old silent pond...

A frog jumps into the pond

splash! Silence again.

What is the Good Life? It is living simply, joyfully, and without affectation, watching a frog jump into a pond, for instance, or making loquat jam.

God, Galileo, and Grumpy Teddy Bears: Part 3

God, Galileo

and the Grumpy Teddy Bears

what was I thinking?

Well, it all started over a breakfast conversation with Christy. She was having a hard time getting much from the gospels during morning devotions. I sympathized. Like Christy, I had grown up in a Christian home and heard the gospel stories so many times that my original fascination was long gone. Then it occurred to me that our struggle to appreciate the gospels exemplified one of the great vexations of life: familiarity breeds contempt.

Yes, familiarity may also breed fondness, but not often, not without effort, pain, and frustration. And most of the time, we don't think it's worth it. We prefer something new, or if this is not available, then stronger doses of the old, anything but the same old same old.

This insatiable thirst for novelty is not all bad. Exploring, learning, growing--these are good things and we are made to engage in them. But engage is the key word. Newness alone will not create the joy of a new experience. We must engage the new and often sacrifice our comfort in the doing.

Engagement connotes action, attention, and commitment. If Navy SEALS attack the Taliban in Afghanistan, the ensuing engagement is forceful, focused, and totally committed. When gears engage, they move in sync, irrevocably linked until release. Getting engaged to Christy was a moment of supremely attentive action entailing a lifelong commitment.

Engagement is a total, all encompassing experience, and we are afraid of it. When we fail to engage a new experience, however, the newness soon wears out. Hence our malaise with the old and desperate search for the new.

Ironically, the harder we try to shun the old, the less successful we become. Perhaps this is because the greatest source of discovery lies in the ordinary old everyday things of life. Indeed, as Galileo and the Grumpy Teddy Bears demonstrate, engagement with the ordinary reveals a vast world of untapped newness. And it is this exhaustless world of beauty and variety which brings me God.

There is a broad consensus among many thoughtful and spiritual people that Jesus transmitted Divinity to the world. Exactly how or why he did this is hotly debated with little resolution, principally because all groups with an interest have disparate--and unmovable--a priori commitments. Few, however, turn to the gospel accounts for a look at Jesus sans religious and intellectual baggage. Suppose we tried, what would we see?

Well, what I see is a man who is above all supremely engaged in life. He is engaged with such fierce attention that his every act becomes a moment of creative commitment. For him, the ordinary is anything but mundane. Every leprous beggar, prostitute, and pharisee is precious, full of hidden newness waiting to be recognized. To me, this is the essence of Divinity. This is Love personified. This is God.

Backyard Salad!

 

God, Galileo, and Grumpy Teddy Bears: Part 2

Galileo was in church one day, gazing absently at the tall ceilings and ornate stain glass windows. He was twenty, failing medical school at the University of Pisa, and not sure what he wanted from life. At fifteen, he had decided to become a monk, but his father sent him to medical school at the tender age of seventeen instead. Now he was failing.

A large lamp caught his eye as it swung a ponderous arc through the air, back and forth, back and forth. Suddenly, Galileo saw more than just a swinging lamp, and what he saw got him thinking. Within in a short time, he had developed a principle which revolutionized time-keeping and kick started the modern science of mechanics: the law of the pendulum.

To be honest, that story is probably a myth. What it teaches about Galileo, however, is almost certainly true. Galileo had a curious, questioning mind. He found profound new insights in the most commonplace, ho-hum things of life--like swinging lamps. For him, the ordinary held potential for endless discovery.

To be continued...

Sustainable eating and Fresh Strawberry Tarts!

Last week I bought a flat of fresh strawberries from the farmer's market, along with some beautiful rainbow chard, broccoli, and sugar snap peas! We enjoyed having such quality and delicious produce to experiment with, and it got me thinking about some ethical food issues that I've been mulling over lately: eating local and eating food that is in season.

There are a host of benefits to eating locally and seasonally. It's fresh, healthy, and sustainable. But there are a few downfalls too, mainly having to do with cost. There is just no getting around the fact that it costs more to shop at a Farmer's Market and other local sources then to go to Superior's, Winco, or Food4Less (my main sources for cheap food). For Barry and I, operating on a very tight budget, it's hard to make the leap.

We haven't decided to convert 100% to eating local and in season - we're just not to that point yet. But we are much more conscious about where our food comes from. It feels (and tastes!) so much better to pay extra in support of local farmers than to have our produce shipped all the way up from Mexico, where they sprayed it with who knows what. And when it does arrive, it is covered in wax and far from fresh.

So for now, we've made a few changes to our food budget. We haven't increased it, but we have allocated more funds to a Farmer's Market trip once a month. We'll continue to reassess as time passes and make changes as needed. It's a step in the right direction, and I'm excited to see how it goes!

Now, back to the point: Fresh Strawberry Tarts! There's nothing quite like the simple joy of biting into a freshly made strawberry tart! It's strawberry season right now, and I'm planning to make the most of it!

Fresh Strawberry Tarts
Makes 4-5 small tarts

Crust

9 graham crackers, crushed

4 Tbsp margarine, melted

Hint: Usually I use a mixture of blended nuts for my crust. It's delicious and requires no added fat. If you run out of graham crackers or don't have any, blend 1-2 cups of nuts and skip the butter. You can also use a combination of nuts and graham crackers. That tastes splendid also!

Creamy Filling

2 blocks tofu

4 oz Cream Cheese (that happened to be the amount I had left. Use whatever you've got or not at all. If you skip the cream cheese, add extra vanilla flavoring.)

Scant 1/4 cup sugar

Juice of 1/2 a meyer lemon

1/2 tsp vanilla flavoring

Strawberry Sauce

1 cup strawberries, washed and hulled

Sugar, to taste

Juice from 1/2 a meyer lemon

Garnish

Sliced strawberries

Mint leaves

Directions:

• Mix crushed graham crackers and butter in a bowl and press into small tart pans to create a firm crust.
• Blend tofu, cream cheese, sugar, lemon juice, and vanilla in blender until smooth. Pour into prepared tart crusts. Smooth with spatula or spoon.
• Blend strawberries, sugar, and lemon juice in a blender until smooth. Pour over top of the creamy filling in the tarts.
• Garnish with sliced strawberries and mint leaves.
• Chill & enjoy!

God, Galileo, and Grumpy Teddy Bears: Part 1

My brother John and I used to play with teddy bears. We called it "ams", short for stuffed animals. Usually during breakfast, while Mom or Dad were saying something about chores or homework, John and I would exchange meaningful glances. Then, like escaping prisoners, we would stealthily flee to John's room for a game of ams.

We had about twenty teddy bears, each a distinct and truly fascinating personality. There was Beav the cunning commando and his inseparable comrade Sam. We had Fox the incomparable scientist, mystic, and military strategist, and Grey, the good hearted duffer with a talent for mistakenly starting every fight on the wrong side (he generally saw his error and changed sides just at the moment of dire necessity).

Yes, those were the good old days. Without a TV, video games, or even much fiction, we invented our own imaginative stories and learned to see something extraordinary in a mundane collection of teddy bears.

Our teddy bears live a placid life these days. Mom and Dad take them out when young children visit, but the dramatic vision of bygone days is not relived. A part of me still imagines those teddy bears are alive, and I wonder sometimes if they are getting grumpy with so little excitement.

To be continued...

Backyard Living: Marmalade

We have several fruit trees (3 orange trees, 2 lemon trees, a persimmon tree, and 2 avocado trees) in our back yard that we have been enjoying since our move here last fall. One of the orange trees had a fall crop which we gobbled up fresh. But now all three orange trees are having their spring crop - and there are more oranges than we know what to do with!

It would be a shame to get through citrus season without at least attempting some marmalade so I scoured the internet looking for techniques and recipes. I found one that seemed foolproof, quick, and easy. I used a combination of meyer lemons gathered from a nearby deserted tree, pink and yellow grapefruit donated to us from a church member, our backyard oranges, and a handful of frozen cranberries.

Unfortunately, my first batch wasn't stellar. It didn't set up very well and had a bitter aftertaste that just wasn't very pleasant.  I have since decided that I need to go with a slower, more time intensive process but that should hopefully yield better results. More on that soon!  (As in, when I have a spare moment to actually make it!)  For now, you can enjoy the pictures from my first batch!  At least it looked pretty!