Happyolks

It was dark by the time we had made our evening plans. The first full, sensory day in Chennai, India (October 2010), had exhausted our bodies, but not our spirits. After two months at sea the intensity of our eagerness had only multiplied. We headed back out into the loud, chaotic night by rickshaw, four to a vehicle. Buzzing down the dusty road, a friend took to some customary banter with the barefoot driver about the fare. In a cacophony of disagreement our drivers pulled to the curb, leaving us to regroup.

In an instant it happened. I hopped out of the rickshaw and up onto the narrow sidewalk to avoid oncoming traffic, took two steps forward, and fell straight down into an uncovered hole of sewage. Tar, feces, dirt, trash, runoff – yes, Slumdog Millionaire status. Everyone was stunned. I was stunned. I caught myself by my elbows on the asphalt ledge and was able to push myself up and out quickly. Completely soaked and covered from my bust down I stood there, feeling an odd sense of calm. I checked for cuts and blood. Nothing. No broken bones, no missing teeth.

Nalgene bottles were emptied onto my legs and feet and a few friends took my splattered bag and scarf. I took off my shoes and hailed the rickshaws back to help, a few of us slid in and sped back to the ship. Racing through security and up the gangway, the only thing I knew to do was laugh. I was in India, covered in sewage, but I was going to be okay. My friends were flabbergasted, but I knew that cultivating a sense of lightness would be the only way to keep my sanity in check. Back to my cabin, I ripped off my clothes in a scorching hot shower and scrubbed like something fierce. After my third shampoo cycle I leaned against the wall and realized I was shaking. The adrenaline was starting to wear off, and emotion began to override my initial mode of pragmatism and optimism. Deep breath. You made it.

Our nature, our strength is so often revealed to us in an instance of crisis – something that sneaks up on us and forces us to react without second thought, without advance notice or deliberation. More often than not our impulsive responses to these critical moments surprise us, in a good way. Standing up to the bully, embracing the friend who’s hurting, remaining calm when the front tire blows out… these action-moments are flashes of insight to our true character.

Only in retrospect do these brave reactions appear significant; for in the moment we are just doing what we must to cope, to support, or just to keep it together. It wasn’t until a few weeks later after the India incident when I was in Vietnam did it occur to me how “prepared” I was for the whole thing; lifting myself out of the hole without a complete collapse of my psyche. Panic wasn’t an option. Fear wasn’t an option. My intuition kicked in and the peaceful, assertive, confident, capable juices just flowed.

The lesson: you’re stronger than you think. When you find yourself in the thick of it (literally or figuratively), have faith that your mind and body will know what to do. It’s all in there. We forget sometimes that it is. But you’ll be ready. Trust me.

Roots, Fennel, and Apple Gratin

• 1 large celery root (celeriac)
• 1 large rutabaga
• 6-8 parsnips
• 2 Fuji apples
• 2 large sweet onions
• 4 large fennel bulbs
• ½ cup heavy cream
• 1 cup vegetable stock
• olive oil, salt, pepper
• 1 sourdough boulé

I tend to prefer roasted fennel and caramelized onions amidst the layers of raw root vegetables that bake together later, so it’s safe to start there. Cut fennel bulbs into thirds, separating layers and tossing with olive oil, salt, and pepper on a baking sheet covered with parchment. Bake at 350’ for 10 minutes, then broil for 2-3 extra minutes at the end to brown. Set aside. Thinly slice onions and sauté over high heat with a few tablespoons of olive oil until soft, brown, and delicious. Set aside.

Peel celery root, rutabaga, and parsnips. Remove woody core of the parsnips, slicing thin strips around it. Use a mandolin or food processor with the celery root and rutabaga to create thin slices. Throw together in a bowl. Peel and core apples. Slice thin. Are you getting the “slice thin” memo at this point? Wink wink.

Up the oven temperature to 450’. In a gratin dish, begin the layering process with the celery root, overlapping to get a nice thick base. Then begin to layer the remaining ingredients. From the bottom up, I layered celery root, apples, rutabaga, roasted fennel, parsnips, and then caramelized onion with a dash of salt and pepper between each layer. In a small bowl, combine cream and vegetable stock. Pour over vegetable mixture, cover tightly with tin foil, and bake for 45 minutes.

While the veggies bake. Cut up day-old sourdough bread into cubes. Toss with olive oil, salt, and pepper. Spread onto a baking sheet. Bake beneath the gratin for 20 minutes until golden and crispy. Let cool, then blitz in a food processor until you have a coarse crumb. Set aside.

After 45 minutes, remove gratin from oven and uncover. Spread an even layer of crumb over the top, pressing down to absorb some of the liquid. Return to the oven and bake for 10 minutes, turning on the broiler for the last 2-3 minutes to brown the top.

Let rest for at least 10 minutes before serving.