Now i lay me Down to Sleep

So a little while back i did this pretty powerful ritual with a group i was working with and it called for writing a prayer to my own higher self; or even the powerful spirit and ethos of the caring universe.  I scribbled a version of it into my journal and only just pulled it out tonight--this has been a pretty tough few weeks of temperature check for myself--You know, the whole, "who am i, what am i doing here" business that sparks a bit of energy every once-in-a while.

so as i sat quite still and read these words i felt so grateful to a higher self that helped me to write these words down a while back, knowing this would be just what i was yearning to hear from someone with the vision to know...

ma cher petite lama,

Be gentle on yourself as you rise in the oven, don't get overly anxious or make any sudden moves; i didn't let the eggs sit out all day, bringing them to room temperature just so you could make a scramble out of my souffle. The oven really does have to be that hot or the air won't create the space and you won't rise like you need to, all those perfect air bubbles in the mix are evidence that the chef was trained in only the best of kitchens.  The Refiner's fire never was meant to leave the silver full of dross ya know.  i even broke my blade while chopping the ironwood for the fire and had to go back to the forge to make a new one--always a sign of strong portence--to be sure.


and not to worry, the crack in the bowl is from when dog and goddess rushed into the kitchen so excited they were back in time to add the bergamot and ginger they gathered just for you.  that crack allows for just the right amount of steam to escape when the pressure is so intense and cannot be contained, and all that steam makes for such a good crust on the outer layers.  The spices are called for in an amazing recipe my mother taught us (madre de dios, she does have quite a good sense of mirth) they prepare the senses for so many opportunities to taste the flavor of life--i can't wait to savor those moments with you.


it's not long now--you'll know when you are ready--just go ahead and join the hosts of heaven in the dining hall--we have a feast layed in your honor..


Amen!!!!

CHEF

Soul food—thoughts from the inside

Turkey stuffing, figs, and new ideas…

I have disliked figs since I was about 10 years old. I had never tried them before that, but that was the year that the fig tree in my own backyard bore ripe fruit. We had all kinds of fruit trees that my grandfather (an amazing planter of wisdom and trees) and father had labored religiously to bring to fruit; pomegranates, mulberries, apricots, peaches—we were truly spoiled when it came to summer abundance—a swimming pool and all you could eat fruit. But when the fig tree finally started to bare mature fruit I was one disgusted 10 year-old. When ripe, a fig will start to drip tiny bits of its luscious juice on the outside of its skin, to the ground and down the trunk. And when you bite into it, the flesh is almost meaty with its fullness and with little black seeds, almost like a kiwi fruit.

To my undeveloped and immature tastebuds the fig was quite disgusting—all that sticky juice, meaty flesh and obvious seeds—a little too much evidence of the messy, juicy, procreative ways of life. And I never even considered biting into one since then. Literal decades went by until my sensibilities entertained the possibility that it might not be the fig, it might be me. Happily, last summer as I dined with friends on a patio in bountiful, utah of all places—with chickens roosting in the trees, and the sun setting over the great salt lake, I was given the chance to revisit my definition of delight. My earthy hostess served a plate of ripe fig slices with brie and herbed crustinis—I hesitatingly bit into one and my tongue jumped in happy surprise. How mouth-wateringly delicious, what a jolt to my prior belief; how was it possible that this fruit of such offending history had made this miraculous shift in flavor?

Or was it me? …could it be that now from this place of experience and experiment, my tastebuds were finally ready to savor the deep and intense flavors the fig had to offer? Yesterday, as my family--extended, uproarious and exclamatory sat to enjoy thanksgiving dinner this lesson made its way into my conscious layers.

I had made the turkey stuffing for the festivities according to no recipe at all. I just started adding things that I knew should go in, and a few things that possibly shouldn’t—resulting in what I thought was a pretty good dish. Both my sister, who hated stuffing for years, and my brother-in-law, who treats it with a mild disregard, licked their plates clean of their turkey stuffing, went back for more; finding that our devouring party had made quick work of it and finished off the entire plate.

This morning in the shower it came to me, as brilliant thoughts often do, that sometimes we form an opinion or preference from a very certain frame of mind and we take that opinion on as a belief. Life will often present many opportunities to delve into our beliefs, see if there isn’t a different way we could look at them, or perhaps another opinion that might be formed if our frame of mind is different. And for myself, I often ignore those offerings, turn my nose with disdain, reject the experience out of hand because I know better. My beliefs will not set me loose to try something new, or something old from a new point of view.

Aha, but I will. With my newfound love of figs and excellent turkey stuffing recipe in hand, I recognize the chance to set loose my old beliefs, and try on each experience as if for the first time is a gift of sublime proportions. And for this I truly give thanks.

New Perspective Turkey Stuffing

• 1 lb sweet Italian turkey sausage (or Morningstar for the vegetarian inclined—might want to marinate this in maple syrup and chili powder for more flavor) browned and drained and chopped
• 2 yellow onions finely chopped and sautéed in butter
• 2 stalks celery--chopped
• 4 fresh apples with skin (I chose granny smith for a sweet sharp flavor—choose your personal favorite) chopped
• 1 pkg button mushrooms (can change to oyster mushrooms for truly decadent flavor) sliced
• 1 cup pecans diced
• 1 cup cranberries ( I was in a pinch and used a cup of granola with cranberries in it)
• 6 cornbread muffins (from any old packet will do, just cooked and dried out)
• 1 pkg. stuffing bread (not from a box, just the kind with cubes of bread from bakery section)
• Ground sage, dill seed, celery salt, thyme, parsley, cracked salt and pepper
• 2 cans chicken broth
• 4-8 tbls. Maple syrup
• ½ c. sweetened coconut
• 2-3 eggs beaten

Chop and slice all but the breads in large frying pan, on medium heat, sautee entire mix with butter until warm and bubbling. Add in corn bread and bread cubes and pour chicken broth over entire mix. I always add heaps and heaps of spices, but you can start with 1 tbs. of sage, dill and thyme and maybe 2 tsp of the others. This is truly a to your taste experiment

Finally add in eggs, syrup and coconut and mix thoroughly. Stuff as much of mix as possible into cavity of the turkey and cook with bird, if you are overly sensitive to this approach, heat in a casserole dish until warm throughout—approx. 30 min. @ 350◦

alchemical baking or life changing breakfast

in daily life i am a chef for a constantly changing and always craving group of lovable folks in need of food that feeds the belly and the soul. a little "soul food" ensues...

--alchemical baking

"...is it only isaiah of old that held the key to the mystic's secret art of transmutation, revealing that only a refiner's fire might distinguish the silver from the dross? What if it were possible that the steam rising from a mother's homemade breakfast were enough to transport the day from ordinary to blessed? Perhaps "a moment on the lips, forever on the hips" was really meant as a soothsayer's caution, reminding us that only the truly wise know it is what we choose to speak and hold in our hearts which becomes the burden-- or light we each carry with us to guide the way. And so it is in knowing the power of words and strength of focus, that we are urged to bless the moments of our day, much as we would assemble the ingredients to the perfect breakfast. In both ways we start our day with a blessing, an honoring, a transmutation of daily practice into sacred ritual; welcoming that which is godlike into the tiny moments of our lives..."

--cinnamon raisin french toast

-6 medium eggs

-1/2 to 1 c. milk

- 1 tsp. vanilla

- 2 tsp. cinnamon

- 1/2 tsp. nutmeg

-pinch of salt

-3 to 5 whole wheat cinnamon raisin bagels(premade/store-bought)

-waffle iron

whisk together ingredients of egg mix until liquid is very light and airy. cut each bagel in half and soak the slices in the egg mix for 1-2 full minutes to allow it to soak up a lot of the eggs. place both halves of the bagel in the waffle maker and firmly close and cook until light turns to green. cooking in the waffle maker changes the shape of the bagel entirely and now your breakfast guests will think they are eating the world's most delicious and entirely from scratch french toast/waffles.

Topping

-2 to 4 cups fresh or frozen sliced peaches (depending on how many people you are serving)

-1 cup of your favorite granola ( i can provide you with a killer recipe if you request)

-2-4 Tbs. butter

bring all of these ingredients to a sizzle in a sauté pan with a little bit of butter and a pinch of sugar if you like, and serve on top of french toast with warm maple syrup.

Please enjoy this delicious meal and take a moment to envision your biggest manifestations...the steam from this meal is guaranteed to make at least 3 dreams come true for the day!!!!:)