Nasi Lemak and Strong Toast

Nasi is rice in Malaysian. I loved this dish when I was there many moons ago (at Cameron Heights), and I'm reminiscing now. The summer before I moved from NYC to Maui, at the Grand Central Terminal's Vanderbilt Hall, is a Scandinavian cafe specializing in open-face sandwiches. I cooked these two culinary experiences together for brunch today for their goodness sake. My nasi is vegetarian (in its original chicken popcorns are used and chili peanuts), in mine cashews toasted in vegan butter and wing beans. I had a pear in the fridge and added it for a "pickled" flavor that works well in the mix. Medium hard-cooked eggs are essential to this "dry ramen." And lime juice over. I'm always hungry so I must have a salad and bread to fill me. Sunflower seed nordic hard bread on hand, and no surprise I used them for my ensemble, so rendering my eggplants and cherry tomatoes over stovetop broil, until charred and moist juicy. I hitchhiked on the back of a pickup truck to the tea plantation in Cameron Heights, taking in the view and filling my soul like I'm Dean Moriarty. The ceiling at Grand Central is a painting of the constallation zodiac. The iconic clock in the main hall to me is the most romantic timekeeper and beacon of the human condition- we can be lost, we can come around.  

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Maui Recipes 2020

Roasted trumpet mushrooms and walnuts herbed pasta—

creamed with boiled potatoes and kumquats.

Kula Farmers Market in upcountry had me at arrival. The ingredients were there like "plants." I'm a garden lover. I surveyed the flowers and the soil, and health in their scent I handpicked. The oregano was wild. Cooking to imagine comes together by touch. A bouquet of nasturtium leaves chopped with spinach. Aha. The consciousness of a remembered present to be me again (borrowing Gerald Edelman's theory of primary perception, in his book I'm reading these days). When the kumquats are macerated in the oven, under the fork they will liven the dish when you press. Inspiration is love you take with you anywhere. Poetry is a means to food. I cook. You twirl on the plate, you feed, you are your soul's mate, and that's how it's going to be now.  Harvest. Share. Write. It's time.  

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“Everyone in the world should have the chance to fall in love in a New York City spring, at least once. Spring, in New York, is like a new epoch in history. The sludge recedes; the trees return as green civilizers of the streets. Your beloved finally takes off all those obfuscating layers, and you can see skin. The Josh Ritter song goes something like, ‘This trip has been done a hundred thousand times before, but this one is mine.’”

— Heather Harpham

Happiness (The Little Road to Semi-Ever After)

A memoir.

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Food"note"

"As our ears adjust to the wordless silence, we slowly become aware that other voices are speaking, not in words but in quiet sighs and softly swelling rhythms, in distant howls and nearby trills and cascading arpeggios of sound. We come into the presence of an earth much wider and deeper than our human designs."


        - David Abram
Foreword in Andreas Weber's Biology of Wonder

Carlton, Ore.

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"Put down the weight of your aloneness and ease into
the conversation. The kettle is singing
even as it pours you a drink, the cooking pots
have left their arrogant aloofness and
seen the good in you at last. All the birds
and creatures of the world are unutterably
themselves. Everything is waiting for you." (David Whyte)

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