I Am the Rabbit

I have been experimenting for a few weeks.  It's what drew me to food as a profession:  the constant influx of new mediums, the inability to ever know everything  This never-ending lesson  thrills my brain and makes my heart smile.  So here I am, trying something new. 

I have been eating raw.  I know...it feels extreme, rather "out there."  I have been living on the fringe.  I feel the pull to slip on Birkenstocks and a floppy hat, toss my bra. 

Raw is, simply put, living food.  It's not cooked past a certain temperature, or processed beyond a puree.  Sushi would qualify, I guess, although it's not what RAW foodies had in mind...This is beyond vegan, which, as we all know, is a pain in the butt.  (no cheese!  no eggs!)

I started with great intentions.  The first morning, I put bread in the toaster and then it dawned on me...the dog ate my toast and I had a smoothie.  I drew the line at coffee because, after all, I am a mother of three and need a little help.  I had nuts and dried fruit for lunch, but was hungry again by 2 and at a loss.  I ate a banana with almond butter.  An hour later I was eyeing my daughter's Sunchips.  Crunch, crunch. crunch.  I wanted that sound in my mouth!  I had an apple.  Somehow, it was not the same thing.  Not at all!  This was hard!  and it was only my first day.  I had salad for dinner, fingered that beer (brewed!) and went for the bottle of wine instead.  (fermented, not heated...yeah!)

The next morning, while blending another smoothie, I took a moment to reflect on this choice.  What was I hoping for?  I just wanted to see...what?  If I could?  If I should...?  If I wanted to take my partially vegetarian lifestyle one step further?  I wanted to see if I'd have more energy.  Healthier skin.  (Getting old, you know...) Lose that 5 pounds.  (Yes, just 5.  Hate me all you want...) Enjoy better digestion.  Need less sleep.  (Who couldn't use an extra hour?) 

So I sipped my smoothie.  And then I cheated.  It just happened.  It slipped into my mouth without thinking.  A cracker.  It was so good.  Salty, crunchy, toasted.  Yum.  Who knew?  Then I ran to the store and stocked my cupboards with dried fruits and  nuts.  I walked through the produce section slowly questioning everything, checking off possibilities.  (no potatoes, yes cauliflower, no eggplant, yes peppers...)  I made customized trail mixes, made another salad for dinner, and dreamt of grilled cheese sandwiches.  I can see the melty cheese stringing me along right now!

"I can do this," I whispered as I listened to sizzling bacon on my daughter's plate.  I wrote lists (it's what I do...) of salads, trail mixes, smoothies.  I researched raw food at my bookstore and for the first time in four days, I didn't have a smoothie for breakfast or a salad for dinner.  I bought cookbooks and played with zucchini "noodles", cashew "cheese" and chocolate "mousse."  I found three raw food restaurants in my big city and  dragged my French man  with me.  It was hippy-dippy, but the food was fabulous. 

I cheated.  A lot.  You can't go out and eat raw.  Impossible.  Mostly, I just missed cooking and eating with my family. Sharing a meal is not the same as eating at the same table.  I was often making my dinner while they ate theirs.  It was lonely.  I missed the magical alchemy of cooking:  the sizzle, the heat, the melding of flavors that fill the room with yum. 

But I like raw dessert, because there is no guilt in a raw dessert.  My French man's raw "chocolate mousse" contained pureed dates and avocadoes.  I could eat only dessert if I wanted without feeling like I cheated my body.  Snacking was awesome.  I missed my cheese and crackers.  I missed my ritual hard-boiled egg at 10:00, but I found new buddies.  I even added green smoothies to my families breakfast menu.  (Definitely add pineapple.  I'm serious.  Otherwise...) 

The best thing about my raw experiment was reminding myself to view fruits and vegetables differently.  I rediscovered fennel, kolhrabi, beets, jicama, celery root.  I trekked Asian markets and found old friends:  kaffir lime leaves, lychee, yuzu juice, pea shoots, bok choy.  I ventured into the Indian market and came out with dried mango powder (awesome!  try it!), black cumin seeds, green cardamom, galangal.  I've made room in my kitchen for hemp seed ("They're the bomb," my French man claims.), coconut water, spirulina, chia seeds (yes, ch-ch-ch-chia!)

When I was a teenager, I would rearrange my room countless times, sometimes at 2:00 in the morning.  I still change my kitchen table periodically.  It's good for my head. As a mother of three, I am often at the mercy of routine and schedules, few of them my own.  My experiment let me shake things up:  in my kitchen,  in my head, in my family.  I wonder what I'll do next?