Category: food

animals, eating, food, nature, work

Beginning: Be Here Like a Duck in the Ocean

Christa Avampato

“The little duck is at ease in the heaving Atlantic because it is in the Atlantic. Rest in the immediate as though it were infinity.” – Edward Espe Brown, Buddhist monk , chef, and star of the documentary How to Cook Your Life, reading from a poem written by his mother as she was preparing for the end of her life

The kitchen holds an abundance of wisdom and life lessons if we choose to show up in it day after day with an open mind and heart. As I have recommitted to cooking more and teaching myself to bake, I find myself growing more and more present in my own life, in and out of the kitchen. I have long thought of myself as a recovering multi-tasker, trying again and again to foster a life of consciousness and presence. Too often this is the moment we miss, and knowing the preciousness and fleeting nature of life, I don’t want to miss any more moments.

I also try to be conscious of when I am fighting life, when I am plotting, planning, and charting my actions toward a specific outcome with little regard for present circumstances. I don’t believe in the road of least resistance. Every road has its hardships, every path its detours, and every life its suffering. I have never actually felt the easy way break open as some people have. Everything I’ve ever done has taken effort so I am quite used to and comfortable with work that feels like work. I’ve grown to enjoy it so long as it’s work that feels worth my time.

As for the little duck in the ocean, he is not just bobbing along carefree. Beneath the surface of the ocean, his little duck feet and legs are churning. Rather than having his efforts fight the ocean, they are working in tandem to the rhythm. It still takes energy and effort and attention. He isn’t floating along; he’s paddling and taking his directional cue from the ocean. He’s present and realizes the awesomeness of the ocean’s power. He channels that power in his own work below the surface. He is there, in that moment, and nowhere else. I try to follow his example.

change, environment, food, New York Times

Beginning: The People’s Republic of Food

Christa Avampato

“There’s plenty of good work to do. With food it can really have an impact, not only on your life but on everyone’s.” ~ Mark Bittman, New York Times Magazine

This weekend the New York Times Magazine revolves around one of my very favorite subjects – food. A few weeks ago I posted about my most recent obsession with food documentaries and my continued growing interest in sustainable agriculture. I’ve always loved to cook and have been rather dismayed that I can’t really bake that well. (I’m working on remedying the later.) Now I am putting a great priority on this activity.

Bittman’s interest in food extends not only from his interest and passion in personal health, but also public health and activism. A world that is increasingly interconnected and complex can leave us feeling paralyzed by the pace and degree of change. one person can and does make a difference. We are what we eat, and our world is also what we eat. Our food choices and how we consume our food has countless implications on the world at large. It’s an act in which we participate every day, several times per day, and it extends to all demographics. Change the way you eat, and you have the ability to change the world in a very tangible way.

The world of food is a true democracy – every person can and does make a difference.

books, dreams, food

Beginning: The Power of Food

Christa Avampato
A recent meal of whole foods I made in my tiny kitchen. From my photoblog: http://bornintocolor.wordpress.com

In recent weeks I have become mildly obsessed with cooking in my tiny stand-up kitchen more often. It started with the first board meeting of Compass Yoga. Two of the incredible board members, Amy and Rob, came to my house for dinner while the other two superstars, Lon and Michael, joined by phone. For Amy and Rob, I cooked up a superfood meal and they were so delighted with it that it gave me a warm, happy glow. Despite my tiny digs, I realized how much happiness could emanate from it when the food is made with love and honor.

This happy experience led me to start watching loads of documentaries about growing food via streaming Netflix. Some dogmatic and pejorative, others hopeful and empowering. It’s no wonder that I gravitated to the later and the best among that lot was a film titled simply Ingredients. It features titans of food like Alice Waters, one of my modern-day heroes, talking about how critical good food is to the preservation of our health and wellbeing. Though the concept is so simple, we are so addicted to “big, manufactured food” that it is literally killing us with unprecedented levels of disease and stress (both mental and physical.) A good deal of the film is set in and around Portland, Oregon and talks about the critical issue of preserving land use for farming, particularly as it relates to local, organic ingredients.

Local organic is nirvana for me. I grew up in a tiny farming town on an apple orchard. For most of childhood, the orchard was not active though I have a small set of memories from when I was very young about people coming to our orchards to pick apples. I remember climbing trees and exploring the land with my brother and sister and our dogs. It wasn’t lavish and it was never particularly well-groomed. But to me, it was always beautiful. Even today, there is a tractor-crossing sign across our drive way. Many of the people in the town farmed in some capacity, even if that just meant their own summer gardens. I remember walking out our front door to find baskets of fresh food dropped off by one of our family farmer friends. Local and organic was all we knew growing up – so much so that I didn’t have any concept of a vegetable or fruit existing in any other state. I had no idea how lucky I was in that regard.

On the plane back from a business trip to Phoenix, I found an excerpt from a forthcoming book, An Everlasting Meal, in the airline magazine. Immediately, I fell in love with the prose and it further heightened by resolve to eat whole foods, prepared well. This is what author, Tamar Adler, coins as “honest food”. Tamar is a self-made chef and a cook at Chez Panisse, Alice Waters’ restaurant. (Alice wrote the foreword for An Everlasting Meal.) An Everlasting Meal will be published in October, and I have already added it to my “ship when ready” list on Amazon for a simple reason: Tamar isn’t giving us a food book in the traditional sense, filled with recipes and tricks of the trade; she gives us a gorgeously woven narrative about the art of practical cooking and how it is an allegory for a life well-lived. Her prose is stunning in its simplicity and truth.

All this thinking of food has brought an image to mind that has surprised even me: there I am in amply spaced and sunlit kitchen, cutely aproned, Phineas lying at my feet sniffing the scents of a home-cooked meal. The sun’s coming from a window looking out on a garden that appears larger than my current studio apartment. I hear a man call me from the other room but I can’t quite make out what he’s saying, perhaps because I’m so entranced by a simple pot boiling and the joy of letting its steam rise up over my face as the scent of its delicious contents fills my nose. This is certainly not New York; I’m not sure exactly where it is, but I mean to find it.

And that’s perhaps the most magical thing of all about food – its preparation and the happiness it invokes opens up our imaginations to follow dreams we have yet to know.

cooking, family, food, grandmother, memory

Beginning: May 20th, pizzelle cookies, and my Grandmother, Sadie

Christa Avampato

Pizzelle cookies, an Italian classic
May 20th is a date that has a lot of significance for me. It’s the date that I graduated from college and from business school, two enormous milestones in my life. More importantly, May 20th was my Grammy’s birthday. She passed away 11 years ago, 2 weeks before my birthday, and every day since she has been with me. Never far from my mind, and easily found in my regular activities.

She loved to find a good bargain while shopping. She was a relentless coupon clipper. My favorite of her finds was a pair of pink jeans that I loved when I was a kid. She bought them for me for $0.99 and I remember how brightly she smiled at that price tag. I think my sister, Weez, got a pair, too, though that detail is more fuzzy in my mind than Grammy’s smile. She would turn 92 today.

There are also certain foods that I always associate with her. She was a simple cook, though there are unmistakable flavors that always remind me of her. Finely chopped carrots and green peppers in meatballs, an apple cake that was my favorite, cheese ravioli, blueberry muffins, Salada tea with sugar and milk, and pizzelle cookies that her friend, Theresa, always used to make when she knew my mom and her gaggle of kids would be visiting.

I was wandering through Whole Foods this weekend doing my weekly shopping. They had a huge display of pizzelle cookies. They weren’t as beautiful as the ones I remember from Grammy’s house, though they were available in a bunch of different flavors, which I thought Grammy would have gotten a kick out of. Then I turned over the package and saw the $4.99 price. I’m sure Grammy would have been disgusted to see such a high price. I bought them any way.

As I rounded the corner with the pizzelles in hand, I could have sworn I felt a small tap on my shoulder. I turned around but no one was there. No one was physically there any way, but I felt a very warm glow and my eyes started to tear up. I’d like to think she was there with me, right next to me winding through the aisles as I filled up my cart. I made sure everything else I put into my cart was indeed a bargain by her standards.

It’s funny what food can do. How it can sneak its way into your heart through your taste buds; how it can help you keep a warm and happy memory alive even when it’s pouring buckets of rain outside; how it can bring someone to your dinner table even though she hasn’t been with you for so many years. I went home, had one of my too-expensive pizzelle cookies, a cup of tea, and tossed up a prayer of gratitude for the opportunity to have had someone in my life as special as my Grammy.

cooking, eating, family, food, friendship

Beginning: The Healing Story of Eating

Christa Avampato

The Reagan dinner table from the CBS hit show Blue Bloods. The dinner table scenes have been hailed as the best part of the show.
“People are at their best when they eat together.” ~ Matthew Sanford

I heard Matthew Sanford speak at the Yoga Journal Conference in New York this past weekend. I recently finished up his book Waking, about the car accident that left him paralyzed at age 13 and his yogic path that truly created his healing process. Matthew talks about how much he wanted to eat and how much he missed the act of eating in the early days of his physical recovery after the accident. His simple statement above really touched me so deeply – togetherness is the very best part of cooking, eating, and food in general.

In the past few months, I’ve started to cook more often. Every week, I take a few simple recipes, make my list, and take myself over to my local Whole Foods to gather the key ingredients. I’ve also had more people over to my tiny apartment to share a meal. My friends feel so grateful though they all always say, “You don’t need to go to any trouble for me.” It’s actually no trouble at all. It’s a joy for me to cook for them. In Matthew Sanford’s words, “It is a healing story.”

Food brings us together, and together, all healing is possible. Bon appetit! Mangia! Enjoy!

food, meditation, silence, simplicity, yoga

Step 364: The Secret We Know

Christa Avampato

“We dance around in a ring and suppose but the secret sits in the middle and knows.” ~ Robert Frost

This quote was sent to me by Archan, a very loyal and supportive reader and commenter on this blog. He is constantly feeding me with encouragement and sending along resources, books, and quotes to inspire me. It’s been the very best thing about taking this adventure to write every day and click the button “publish” – I’ve been able to connect with and be inspired by so many people that I may not have met otherwise. A sacred and precious reward.

Over the Christmas week I read The Story of Tea: A Cultural History and Drinking Guide by Mary Lou Heiss and Robert J. Heiss, proprietors of Cooks Shop Here. It’s a gorgeous book that takes readers through so much interesting history and cultural influence wielded by tea, the second most popular beverage on the planet. I was inspired to pick it up after I went to a tea date with my pal, Amanda, at a beautiful little spot in midtown called Radiance, a place I highly recommend, especially if you need some comforting shelter from a monsoon like Amanda and I did that day. My interest in tea has been growing steadily over many years, not surprising since Alice in Wonderland is my favorite book and because it’s a symbol of far off lands, adventure, and intrigue. I love that it is something simple and something so complex at the same time. Dichotomies, you can’t beat ’em for keeping us endlessly entertained.

In The Story of Tea, the Heisses include a section about chanoyu, the Japanese Tea ceremony or “Way of Tea”. It is a sacred art that is part performance, part culinary masterpiece and tea masters study it for years. Sen no Rikyu is the most famous of all Japanese tea masters and said to have been the most important historical figure in the development of chanoyu. His students would ask him how he learned so much about chanoyu, how it became a part of him. He always replied, “boil water and drink it.”

Ha ha, I thought. How flippant. Boil water and drink. Very funny. What else? How did he really gain his vast knowledge? And then I realized that tea, like yoga, like meditation, is really very simple. To know it, we must practice it. There is no other way. For it to sink into our bones, we have to make it a part of our every day lives. Practice – that is the only way. We can read books, study with masters, go to every conceivable workshop or class, but what it really comes down to is Sadhana, personal practice. (I silently apologized for my “ha ha” at Sen no Rikyu.)

My yoga teacher, Jeffrey, told me that during yoga teacher training but in applying the concept to tea, I realized how true that is of everything we want to really know. Practice, practice, practice. We have to sit with that practice and let it reveal itself to us. How right Robert Frost was. The secrets that we want so much to know are already known, we just have to be with them long enough to hear them.

The image above can be found here.

food, friendship, happiness, writer

Step 341: The Simple Joy of Ramen

Christa Avampato

My friend, Michael, took me to Minca, a ramen restaurant on Friday night. Like so many wonderful traditions from other countries, we have twisted ramen into a cheap, nutritionless, freeze-dried meal encased in plastic on our grocery store shelves. It is the stuff of college student diets. In Japan and other parts of Asia, ramen is a sacred, beautiful, nutritious ritual. I could hardly believe how incredible I felt eating a piping hot bowl with a good friend. It was good for my soul.

Michael learned about Minca from Rameniac, a blogger who espouses his love for the delicious dish. Michael sent me a few links and closed out his email about it with such an elegant, thoughtful commentary: “Rameniac became so well-known after a few years that he started getting picked up by the LA Times. He works as a web developer by day, but because he can work essentially anywhere there is internet, he makes frequent excursions to Japan and a few other locations known for good noodles to gather field research. With cynicism and sensationalism selling so many books and magazines these days, it’s heartening to find someone who can derive so much joy from a bowl of soup.”

I couldn’t agree more. There’s so much beauty in simplicity. Give Rameniac a read, go grab a bowl, and enjoy!

Pictured above: a delicious bowl of ramen at Minca

books, diet, dreams, entertainment, film, food, forgiveness, love, movie, relationships, religion, simplicity

Step 225: The Best Way to Eat Pray Love

Christa Avampato

“In a world of disorder and disaster and fraud, sometimes only beauty can be trusted. Pleasure cannot be bargained down.” ~ Elizabeth Gilbert, Eat Pray Love

The long-anticipated movie of a woman traveling through the world looking for delicious food, peace of mind, and love opens in theaters nationwide today. Last week I walked by a swanky home store advertising “get your Eat Pray Love scented candles here” in its windows. Elizabeth Gilbert, the author of Eat Pray Love, runs an importing business with her new husband. That may explain the commercialization of the film. Still, the merchandising seems like an odd play destined for a less-than-stellar market performance, no matter how high the box office ratings are.

The sad truth is that Eat Pray Love is a well-written book, with lyrical language, rich imagery, and some important insights that, if put to good use, could actually increase people’s happiness. The problem is that it’s been so hyped that most consumers are sick to death of it. And the onslaught of book-related merchandise doesn’t help matters any.

Here’s my suggestion: don’t go to the movie at all. I’m not even sure I’d suggest you read the book at this point. You know how the story goes so it sort of takes the fun out of it. Here’s how you can really live the message of finding your own path, the issue at the heart of the story:

1.) Eat well and enjoy it. Stop mindlessly munching on whatever is within arms reach, enjoy your food with good company, and rather than beating the heck out of yourself for the calories, just exercise more

2.) Pray in your own way. I’m a spiritual person, meaning that the light that is within me honors the light that is within you. Be good to your family, your friends, and your neighbors. Stop asking what the world needs you to do, and just concentrate on doing what brings you joy. That’s where the real goodness is. Recognize that there’s something beyond the here and now, and that we are all intricately and beautifully connected. Honor that connection through service, which is at its essence a divine act.

3.) Love. Forget your past failures in love. Forget the heartache and the tears and the anger and the screwed up behaviors of people who hurt you. Get it all out in the open, let it go, and move on. There’s nothing worse that ruining our next relationship by imbuing it with the problems of the last one. I know it’s hard. I’ve had my heart broken in a million pieces more times than I can count. I’ve got a good family and good friends who help me pick up the pieces and put them back together, and I’m a better person for it, even though it was hell to go through in the first place. Keep loving. The alternative is what causes this world to be such a rough place to live – we shouldn’t make it any worse by carting around our disappointments from one relationship to the next.

And if you really want to know what Elizabeth Gilbert and her journey are all about, watch her TED talk on creativity. In 18 minutes it will inspire you to do something extraordinary, and the world could use a little more of that these days.

The image above depicts Julia Roberts as Elizabeth Gilbert in the movie Eat Pray Love, opening today nationwide. I like the sunflowers.

food, health

Step 192: Why I joined a CSA (Community-Supported Agriculture)

Christa Avampato

I grew up in a rural area in upstate New York. At that time, CSAs did not exist where I lived. Eating local was the only affordable option.

Now, our societal eating habits have made a 180. Cheap food comes from many miles away, is mechanically manufactured rather than raised and harvested, and is largely unhealthy as its practically steeped in “sanitary” chemicals we can barely pronounce. American consumers are now in a catch 22 – how to live within their means and eat healthfully is a complicated matter. Too complicated for even many PhD scientists to decipher.

Sorting out the myths and marketing in grocery stores is a complicated puzzle. I recently watched the movie Food, Inc., both a realistic look at our modern food chain (which is scary) and a possible look into our future of supporting sustainable, small-scale agriculture (which is hopeful). The findings in the movie are so horrifying that I needed to do something, to somehow participate in supporting a more sustainable lifestyle and local farmers who are trying to do the right thing.

To do my own little part, I signed up this year for a CSA, a group of people who get together and pre-pay for a season’s worth of weekly fresh deliveries of fruits and vegetables (and sometimes eggs, meat, and pasta) from a small-scale local farmer. I found mine CSA through http://www.justfood.org. I paid $250 for 20 weeks of fresh veggies – $12.50 / week. A good deal. I’m trying some new vegetables that I’ve never even picked up in the store – bok choy, anyone? – and it feels good to connect with other people who care about the local eating movement.

Our CSA’s farm is in Connecticut and we’ll be able to visit later this summer. For now I’m enjoying my plates of fresh produce knowing that my small contribution, combined with the contributions of others may be at the beginning of turning back to a healthier past.

The photo above depicts a recently weekly delivery of radishes, parsley, and a variety of leafy greens from my CSA.

entrepreneurship, Examiner, food

Examiner.com: Interview with Danielle Di Vecchio, Founder of bakery Biscotti di Vecchio

Christa Avampato

I learned about Danielle Di Vecchio and her business, Biscotti di Vecchio through Crain’s story about online bakeries. Danielle had been making sinfully delicious biscotti for years and giving them away as gifts. Her grandmother taught her to make these traditional Italian cookies, a staple of every Italian kitchen. (Coming from an Italian family myself, my grandmother always had chocolate and vanilla biscotti for us to nibble on. I distinctly remember their scent and place in her kitchen.) Family and friends encouraged Danielle to form a business based on her baking hobby. Danielle’s biscotti, made from the finest, all-natural ingredients, make perfect holiday gifts.

For the interview, click here.