When I lived in Haiku, I foraged all my fruits. The ecosystem there was do-it-yourself. You must catch them before they fall. The rain mango worked well with the vegan pumpkin waffle that morning; it was toasty, earthy and warm, the mango was the butter syrup. I remember picking wild raspberries entangled on the lilikoi vine and cobweb dews, and listening to music in the hut cabana facing the north shore. I wish I had brought the Mexican street vendor fruit juicer when I moved here from New York City. The starfruit teeming in the tree behind my cottage they're so soaked inside I could wring them like hand-washed clothes. There was a Sunday I caramelized coins of strawberry bananas in that juice and then tossed them in saffron rice, olives and raisin cabbage dressed in green tangerine vinaigrette. Just like that. I miss living in the jungle. I miss climbing for the avocados on the highest tier, being careful but free. The guavas I eat many times under the waterfalls after swimming in the cold forest pool. And in the sanctuary you feel relieved where you are now,
after all. One couldn't get better days than those days in my book.
When I lived in Haiku, I foraged all my fruits. The ecosystem there was do-it-yourself. You must catch them before they fall. The rain mango worked well with the vegan pumpkin waffle that morning; it was toasty, earthy and warm, the mango was the butter syrup. I remember picking wild raspberries entangled on the lilikoi vine and cobweb dews, and listening to music in the hut cabana facing the north shore. I wish I had brought the Mexican street vendor fruit juicer when I moved here from New York City. The starfruit teeming in the tree behind my cottage they're so soaked inside I could wring them like hand-washed clothes. There was a Sunday I caramelized coins of strawberry bananas in that juice and then tossed them in saffron rice, olives and raisin cabbage dressed in green tangerine vinaigrette. Just like that. I miss living in the jungle. I miss climbing for the avocados on the highest tier, being careful but free. The guavas I eat many times under the waterfalls after swimming in the cold forest pool. And in the sanctuary you feel relieved where you are now, after all. One couldn't get better days than those days in my book.
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