In New Orleans, there is a community farm called Hollygrove Market and Farm. For $25, one can buy a box full of produce. For a few dollars more, she can buy an half gallon of milk (with real cream that floats to the top), a la carte produce, baked goods, and/ or fresh herbs. There is also meat provided by local farmers. I received an email letting me know that the farm purchased half a cow last week; the meat is pricey, but I’m thinking of doing a taste challenge some time soon. I know I would be happier ethically if I was eating locally grown meat produced outside of the factory farm system.
A few weeks ago, I was tired and depressed. I wasn’t exercising, and I was sleeping WAY too much. I realized that I was cooking food Boyfriend Alex would like, which was drastically different from my previous diet of mostly grains and greens. I decided to start buying the $25 boxes of produce as a way to force myself to get back to basics. In the first weeks, I’ve had more energy. I wake up earlier and work out. I’ve started writing again.
It’s easy to lose sight of how important nutrition is in a writing life. I’m hoping I won’t make the mistake of throwing it out the door again. The biggest challenge has been convincing myself to cook or throw a salad together, even though sauteing radish greens is a lot quicker than making a box of Rice-A-Roni. It tastes better, too.
So far today, I have eaten a fresh, juicy peach; two slices of fresh, sweet pineapple; pasta with two types of grape tomatoes with fresh basil, garlic, and onion; and the sauteed radishes. In a little while, I’m going to make chicken sloppy joes that include heirloom tomatoes, fresh patty pan squash, and more fresh basil (the recipe came from the Hollygrove blog).
The fresh radish greens pictured above were crazy easy to make. I just separated the leaves from the radishes (I might try to make roast radishes soon), washed them, and set them aside. I diced onion, garlic, and mushrooms and melted some butter in a pan. I cooked the diced veggies with torn basil leaves until the onions started to get translucent and threw the greens in in batches and watched them wilt. When they seemed wilty, I drizzled in some lemon juice and cooked and stirred them until the juice was well incorporated. Then, I spooned them onto a plate sprinkled some grated parmesan over them, added a dash of salt, and enjoyed my mouth orgasm.
And, as you can see, I’m writing.
Peace, Love, and Fresh Tomatoes.