Crumbs on the Floor
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Back in the kitchen again; things are well with my soul. There are no pressing questions that need attending, no decisions that need making. I answer only to the boil, simmer, crackle, melt. From where I prepare vegetables I can see children with kazoos across the yard and I can hear the new neighbors moving furniture upstairs. I wiggle my toes on the linoleum and I can feel a few breadcrumbs leftover from before Christmas. It’s good to be here, good to be home.
January has lived up to it’s reputation. Turbulence. Upheaval. Shifting. Stirring. The boozy eve of the new year has long since passed, but it wasn’t until today that it felt like the glass ball actually stopped dropping. I fell in love (or lust?) with a new city on the first, my intuition took a sabbatical around the third and by the thirteenth (until, well, yesterday) I was scrambling on the floor searching for my good sense. New places, new faces, and new ideas shook me in ways that were at once thrilling and dislocating. A strong under-toe of emotion leeched at my ankles. Panic set in. Suddenly I found myself clinging to things in the temporal world to validate and repair the disequilibrium I felt at my center.
Who are you? What will you do? And, where are you going?
I held on. I pushed away from the ledge. I wrote. I forgot. I remembered. On the plane home I let it rush in. We (humans) can be so hard ourselves when we get off track. We fight those ugly parts of our being so fervently without stopping to look at the mess and think about it before cleaning it up. I’m generally in the “one foot in front of the other” camp of life wisdom, but sometimes it’s okay not to move at all. Just sit. Kneel. Stand in the kitchen with breadcrumbs on the floor. Just be there. Just swim in it for a little. See what comes up.
It may take a day, three, or a whole lunar cycle. It settles. I promise.



Sweet Potato, Curry, and Quinoa (in a bowl)
Serves 2-4 (we’re hungry folk)
- 1 cup fair trade quinoa
- 4 medium sweet potatoes
- 1 large red onion
- 1/4 cup ghee (clarified butter)
- large handful of spinach
- 1 cup vegetable or chicken broth
- 1/4 cup currants
- 1 clove garlic
- fresh ginger
- 1/4 cup curry powder of choice
- 1 tsp sea salt
Scrub potatoes. With skins on, cut into 1″ cubes and lay out on a baking sheet. Toss with a bit of oil and salt. Bake at 475′ for 20 minutes. Combine two cups of water to one cup of quinoa (remember to rinse first!) in a medium pot and bring to a boil. Cook for 12-15 minutes until water is fully absorbed. Remove from heat.
Roughly chop red onion and saute in a large saucepan with the ghee until softened. Add minced garlic and grated ginger to the onions and saute for a bit longer, adding stock if it seems to stick to the pan. Remove from heat. Add sweet potatoes when they are just beginning to brown and crisp on the edges. Add a cup of stock and the curry powder, stirring to coat. Let simmer for 5-10 minutes, adding stock, a bit of ghee, and some salt to develop flavor. Add some well chopped spinach and toss to barely wilt.
Serve over a bed of quinoa with a sprinkling (or more) of currants.




I still learn things all the time. When I started assisting with a youth program that focused on empowerment through food education, I realized how unusual my own upbringing was. The constant presence of fresh food, the every-night family dinners, a big garden in the summer and a jammed cellar in the winter, a job, a sense of community at the table, everything. It made me incredibly grateful and hopeful at the same time. I was awe-struck by these kids reaching for all of the built-in facets of my upbringing on their own because they could see and feel the inherent good in all of them independently.
Mighty Grain Salad 



Greetings from Washington DC! I’ll be here for the better part of January for a presidential politics seminar; dress pants and heavy coats are the name of the game and my food adventures will be limited, unfortunately. A few months ago I asked a few of my favorite food bloggers from around the web to help share their talents in this space during my absence. Each contributor has been so generous and kind with their time and talents, honestly their gifts floor me.

