Scrappy Meals and Meal Scraps

Economical meals and minimizing food waste.

I have been known to compose meals from food that others might have tossed, that maybe I should have tossed. (Whew! That trip down Instagram lane makes me aware how regularly cuspy food features in my meals... need to eat food faster and purchase more appropriate quantities, fight the urge to squirrel it away.)

Tonight's dinner of brussel sprouts topped with hazelnuts and salad topping mix over brown rice and quinoa was a fine example. I would say it was edible/not entirely pleasurable, not something I would serve to others, nor repeat myself - it's one of the risks of trying to reduce food waste. The brussel sprouts were the remainder of a large takeout serving that I was awarded from Buy Nothing last weekend (the gifter was spice sensitive and had forgotten to order it without pepper flakes; she had also included leftover tiramisu cut around the small bite she had tried in order to confirm that she did not, in fact, like tiramisu - the perfect food gift for me, since both are favorites of mine!). I ate the first half over rice earlier in the week, and for protein, topped it off with the last of a bag of crispy chickpea snacks (a là Girl Dinner) that were just a wee rancid (less Girl Dinner-ish); the texture combination was fantastic, though, and the sauce from the roasted brussel sprouts masked the off-ness of the chickpeas, so I would say that meal was actually pretty decent and a good final use of the chickpeas. Inspired, I tried to replicate the experience for tonight, substituting the hazelnuts that I kept seeing in the fridge - could they really have been around since 2013? Um, possibly. They were not as crunchy as I would have thought, but not offensive, likely benefitting from all the refrigeration, but also fewer than anticipated. So I supplemented with a savory salad topping mix of pumpkin, sunflower, and other seeds and dried cranberries, also refrigerated, but also definitely off - it was the main culprit, and the smaller seeds didn't crunch as much as the chickpeas had; the cranberries were just sweet enough to have detracted from the savoriness of the overall dish, one too many flavor notes. Oh well, I tried. At least I finished the brussel sprouts and hazelnuts, and made a dent in the salad topping mix, and fed myself - that last counts as an accomplishment these days.

I suppose this food sensibility comes from being an early childhood food stamp recipient and an internalized understanding not to waste food born from financial and food insecurity (compounded by the distressing images of starving children in Ethiopia that launched "We Are the World" during my formative tween years), as well as my sense of environmental stewardship and - dare I say it - an optimism that individual behavioral changes - like being open to eating upcycled food (I would try our Christmas tree if it weren't artificial), composting to nourish new food production, and finding other ways to divert food waste from landfills - can make a difference.

Our Time Is Short

Accepting our mortality to focus on the present could be the key to time management.

Clocks of Chợ Bến Thành (the Ben Thanh Market) in the city formerly known as Saigon.

On this winter solstice - the shortest interval between sunrise and sunset of the year - trying to get the most out of the day seems to be on point, and facing our mortality will help us to reframe and reprioritize, according to author Oliver Burkeman.

Those principles of prioritizing and getting more out of fixed, finite time periods are also behind an experiment I would love to see become more widespread, and then adopted: the four-day work week - for worker mental health AND the environment, without much effect on output. It's a counterpoint to the work creep into the weekend that's becoming an insidious side effect of the hybrid work schedule, and could help to set the boundaries for "weekend vacations" that could increase our overall happiness. Isn't it time? 

Walk This Way...

When we evolved from our great ape ancestors to an upright habit, it was only natural that we walked.

December roses...

Born in the '70s and shaped by the '80s, I have reached the age that appreciates the low impact and highly effective, very accessible practice of just plain ol' walking as a form of exercise.

... still in bloom, ...

It is, in fact, my preferred and main form of cardio these days; doesn't make my knee act up.

... together with camelias ...

And, it allows me to commune with nature - a meditation in motion.

... laden with buds, ...

On top of that, it offers a way to moderate the cumulative effects of years of enjoying good food.

... and rhododendrons? or a rose of Sharon variety?

Plus, all this meandering inspires content creation for this blog - a significant portion of the visual components came of walkabouts. Even when the images may not warrant a post in and of themselves (relegated to Instagram alone), paired with a stockpile of material going much further back than I realized, they can make for a complete blog post - so, yay!

Bring on the Bioswales!

Slowing the waters with rain gardens.

My little Jardin with all its rag tag containers can hold gallons of rainwater. I like to think of it slowing some of the rush into the sewers during our big rains - not quite a green roof, but leaning more in that vein. With climate change a widely acknowledged fact, and the extreme weather it ushers in, including the torrential rains we've seen of late, bioswales and rain gardens have officially become part of the mitigation strategies in New York and other cities down on the streets.

Even though the containers in the Jardin feel like they are multiplying like rabbits (among other things), there is still so much impermeable surface area. If only there were more absorbent terrace pavers available - ones that could absorb water quickly like a sponge, perhaps a shell filled with moss or something like it, or succulents - but firm enough to be walked upon in the normal course - as with a perforated metal plate, maybe coated with ultra reflective white (though the goal would be minimal surface area, and more the appearance of a green roof). Is there moss with blades that grow like grass but with a finite growing habit? But in shade? The holy grail of patio pavers... something I would love to design and market if I had more know-how. You heard it here first! All rights hereby reserved.

No Launder Necessary

The movement to launder less.

I seem long to have been part of a no wash movement of which I was not even aware.

It aligns with my environmental leanings, my financial budgetary leanings, my temporal budgetary leanings - addresses multiple facets of my current life that could use better balance.

But well before I could think for myself and develop any leanings on anything significant, redonning clothes in succession was how I grew up and what I did from my earliest childhood, before I learned shame from peer pressure and heard whisperings at school noticing my sartorial patterns (afterward, I just learned to hide repeat clothing uses by rotating intervening outfits). I rather suspect many from developing countries, even developed countries where fuel and power are less subsidized, have similar lifestyle habits. It just makes sense.

Today, my tool of choice that facilitates this practice is the garment steamer - steam out wrinkles with the added bonus of killing germs, in the process assuaging my lingering COVID germophobia. It just feels like a nice steam makes worn clothes a little more sanitary for hanging up inside the house after sitting on public surfaces, and ready for another outing. Apparently this is not an original thought - Koreans widely use stylers for this, it seems.

One day, my old clothes will all wear out and my entire new wardrobe will be of natural fabrics. For the time being, I re-wear until it seems time to wash.

Nice to have my choices and habits affirmed by journalistic investigative data and to be ahead of the curve on trends and movements, even if only privately (well, other than publicly here on this blog - but no one reads this other than me, and I do only to edit or occasionally revisit what was going on in my life, so this might as well be private).

Speaking of journalism, I read quite a few items that speak to the themes of this blog - most often environmental issues or time management, both of which tie into my yearning for the ever elusive balance as I make my way through this earthly life. I email them to myself meaning to use them as prompts or support for new content, which has led to a stockpile of material. With this post, I hope to begin more regularly to work through those saved articles and fill the gaps in posting to this blog - pull those articles out from the closet for use in public, so to speak (see how I tied into the no-wash article there? wink, wink); the plan is to create posts that thematically feature all of that material that  shapes and inspires or reflects my thinking, teeing them up in advance for publication on days when otherwise there would be no post at all. They'll be tagged with "interesting reads," and likely be jam packed with links to articles (so I can chip away at my email inbox and delete while I add to the number of posts - win-win!). And if my actual present day life inspires or warrants an original new post, then the tee'd up posts can just be superseded and rolled over for another day.

A Tree Goes in Manhattan

Disappearance of a guerrilla gardened arboreal baby.

Ephraim, post-July trim to neaten him up and give him a more upright habit. This was as tall and mature as he ever got.

Farewell, Ephraim The Maple. He has disappeared, and I can only presume he lives no more. Hopefully little Ephraim is part of some big compost pile here on earth, and his life force has ascended to some Big Forest In The Sky elsewhere.

The signs were all there from weeks back - Ephraim had caught the eye of someone at the New York City Parks Department and was targeted.

Neighbors tried to save him... When I first saw the little flag and lingered by the tree pit, a woman told me she was there on the day of the assessment and tried to explain that Ephraim was being cared for and tended to, that he wasn't just an eyesore, as the Parks Department employee deemed him. Then, just a few days ago, when I stopped again before Ephraim to contemplate his fate, a man remarked that Ephraim just wouldn't die, despite his ill treatment, that he was a survivor; when I gestured toward the NYC Parks flag and said that might be more than he could overcome, the friendly neighbor man looked straight at me and said, "Well, there seems to be a mistake there," and yanked the plastic flag from the ground that marked him and deposited it in the nearest corner trash can - to my amazement and admiration at his boldness for refusing to accept the decision (when I, his "mother"/planter had already resigned myself to the demise of my arboreal baby; the whole episode has made me query my ability to buck authority if circumstances ever call for true moral conviction, much as I aspire to be such a person). In the end, that kindly act of defiance wasn't enough to save Ephraim, nor allow him to live up to his eponym and be fruitful to spawn future generations (not that urban street trees generally do). His name that I selected so hopefully was a misnomer in hindsight.

His last months were not without challenges. In mid August, someone de-limbed him, again, and rather roughly, at that ...

..., even after I trimmed him in July, hoping to keep him out from underfoot of alternate side parkers and sidewalk pedestrians to protect him from further mutilation.

But with all the abuse, he seemed not destined for life in that tree pit - the more he was decapitated, the lower his branches would grow - poking out at pedestrians and walkers. There never would be a tall central trunk like the one Trey The Maple in front of Moduwa was able to develop - albeit a little lopsided. Trey, now, is my only legacy bearer out in the world.

So on Friday, during work from home lunch, when I walked by to check on Ephraim, there was no sign of my second arboreal baby; the new interloper had already made itself at home...,

... tall and proper, under a fresh bed of mulch. Only the "Please Curb Your Dog" sign...

... that some kind soul had gifted to Ephraim years ago remained as evidence he was once loved, and lived. That, and Ephraim's very own hashtag that will now be retired... #ephraimthemaple.

"C"-ing Christmastime in the City

Classic City Christmas

Convinced by Sissy, I concluded my work at a customary hour one evening earlier this celebratory season to play holiday tourist and carouse among the crowds with her.

1 - City sidewalk at St. Bart's, ...

2 - ... Christmas caroling.

3 - Claus's religious counterpart, St. Nicholas. 

4 - Cupola (sort of - dome of St. Bart's, really).

5 - Christ mosaic in the apse.

6 - Circular rose window.

7 - Curvey architectural elements.

8 - Conifers in the pools of the Seagram Building.

9 - Court (of the food variety) - The Hugh.

10 - Culinary creation of Teranga - vegan bowl with West African roots, because for me it ignited the greatest curiosity of the collective food court cuisines, and this cat was up for something new! It was craveworthy!

11 - Ceiling of Cathedral (St. Patrick's).

12 - Creche.

13 - Camel by the creche.

14 - Carving, festooned by Christmas florals.

15 - Christian Dior & Saks light show.

16 - Center (Rockefeller).

17 - Close-up of the Christmas tree topped by celestial crystal.

18 - Cascading waters by Prometheus, below the Christmas tree.

19 - Casting a bouncing light snowflake ornament upon a nearby building.

20 - Colossal ball ornaments.

21 - Curated NYC critters at a cute novelty store a stone's throw from everything.

22 - Canceled bus service on streets closed for the crowds.

23 - Candy canes and candy seat decor and Insta backdrops.

24 - Carefully composed Radio City shot.

And so we carried on, then called it a night.