Why the ‘MILF’ Diet? Ahhhh… that’s a great question. Let’s discuss! What does that word mean to you? I think it’s time we women get together and ask ourselves how our culture sees us, how language is used for and against us, and what it is to step into the totality of our female power.

I think MILFs are maternal, sexy and fully in their bodies. I think the term ‘MILF’ encourages a woman to feel whole. Sure it’s crass, but why does it light up the faces of so many of us?

Are you a MILF?

Nine years ago, Sandy Pukel decided to take veganism and macrobiotics on the high seas.  Since then, every spring, a huge cruise ship hauls just under a thousand of us pasty health food freaks out into the sunshine of the Caribbean.  If you've never been, I can't recommend it enough.

Next Spring, the ship is leaving Fort Lauderdale on March 3rd and cruising until the 10th.  An early booking discount is still available until October 20th.  Click here to get registration details:

Here are the five reasons you should go:

1.  The Food.  Commandeered by Mark Hanna  (total genius, cookbook author and my ex-next door neighbor) and his crew, every meal is a multi-course, plant-based mouthgasm.  AND if you're not feeling particularly virtuous, you can still order from the regular ship's menu, even from our groovy dining room.  But that rarely happens.  The food is REALLY good.

Because the food is so good, and so healthy, instead of gaining weight and feeling like a weeble  by Thursday, you actually begin to feel fantastic come mid-week.  Smiles become spontaneous, steps lighten and skin glows throughout our half of the ship.

2.  The Classes.  This cruise is not just about the food, or the Caribbean.  All day, every day, there are classes given by some of the greatest holistic and plant-based thinkers in the world.  Dr. Neal Barnard (Physicians' Committee for Responsible Medicine) Dr. Colin Campbell, (The China Study, Forks over Knives) and Dr. Caldwell Esselstyn are the headliners with lots of heavy-hitting macro teachers and Yogi Amrit Desai to keep us all calm.  The cooking classes will be taught by the inimitable Christina Pirello, and yours truly.  All this amazing information, in the form of lectures, workshops and cooking classes, is a kind of mental and spiritual food that is deeply nourishing.  One walks around the ship thinking "I'm so glad I'm here!!"

3.  The People.  I try to sit with new people at every meal.  The stories that come out of them are mindblowing.  Recoveries from cancer.  Families just trying it out.  Longtime vegans with a passion for the planet.  Everyone has a story.  Everyone is interesting.  And everyone cares.

4.  The Ship.  MSC is a lovely Italian cruise line.  In the spirit of La Dolce Vita, they go OVER THE TOP in many ways.  The design of the ship itself is romantic and colorful.  There are lots of pools, bars, a spa and even a Japanese restaurant on board!  Check out the ship by clicking here.  

5.  The Caribbean.  Oh yeah.  I forgot.  Did I mention that you're floating around on the bluest sea, stopping at ports of call throughout the region?   I know it seems crazy to mention it last, but the other stuff really–amazingly–trumps even mother Nature.  The Caribbean just becomes a breathtaking backdrop to a fantastic experience.  You can get off the ship and explore the islands as much as you want.  Or stay on the ship and take a class.  No pressure.  YOU'RE ON VACATION!

If you know me personally, you know that I am a horrible salesperson.  I'm usually like "uh… I mean if you want to try this thing… I mean, you don't have to… it's not a big deal…. really, don't do it".  I'm usually sort of an anti-salesman, having been trained by Canadian culture to never step on any toe, real or imagined.  But the cruise is different.  It is 100% unadulterated, healthy, silly fun.  I recommend it to all my friends, veggie or otherwise.  You won't regret it.

And the prices?  Very reasonable, considering everything you get.  Check it out.  And tell them I sent ya!  I'll see you in March!

Jessica

So here is Jessica Porter's Official Defense of the Current Royal Family:  

1. Yes, the monarchy get some $ from the people, but it amounts to one dollar per year per person. The vast majority of royal wealth is from landholdings of the Queen's. And hey, owning property is the American way, no?  If you'd like to to know more about where the royals get their money from and how it's used, they are completely devoted to transparency and have this website to explain it.  And by the way… How much are you and I paying for Iraq?  More than a buck, I'll bet. 

In terms of the wedding itself, it was a private affair and the only charges made to the public were for security and police… No one's quite sure how much the Queen shelled out for the gig, but what we do know is that Pirates of the Caribbean: At World's End cost $300 million.  No matter how many funny hats are worn and profiteroles served, I think the wedding worked out to a weeeee bit less than that.  Funny we get all Spartan when it comes to a royal wedding while we turn a blind eye to our own excesses.  

2. Since 1993, the Queen has been paying taxes. Up to 200 million pounds per year. That's WAY more than they're getting from the taxpayers (38 million pounds). So they don't seem to be a financial drain on the system. In fact, they support the people in many ways, including not only taxes but all the revenue generated around their appearances, souvenirs, etc.

3. So we sit in judgment from a country where our "royalty" is Charlie Sheen, Lindsay Lohan and politicians who are totally owned by corporations. Although it is a democracy, our votes mean less and less against big business dollars since we've decided corporations are individuals… And yet we indulge in a weird haughtiness about one family, who happens to be rich… but isn't the accumulation and display of wealth basically an American ethic? Don't we normally worship the rich?  The Kennedys?  Martha Stewart?  P. Diddy?  Yes, but not if they're British and inherited it… Huh.

4. Unlike our King Charlie, British royalty does not spend $500,000 a week on cocaine.  Between the members of the Windsor family, they do upward of 3,000 acts of charitable and community service per year. In fact, they live lives completely devoted to public service.  Their endorsements and visits generate untold revenue for local and global charities.  Not such a bad thing in a David Cameron economy.

And unlike American celebrities or politicians, the Royals are not owned by big business, so they can do what feels right to them. That's refreshing. Diana showed the world it was okay to hold the hand of a person with AIDS, back when they were social pariahs and dropping dead like flies. She also championed the landmine issue in Cambodia. Prince Charles was into organics and the environment before ANY famous Americans were… like in the 70s. All the royal men serve in the military.  These people are far from layabouts. In anything, they are more like rich servants to the public. We just get our panties in a twist that they wear expensive clothing.  As they say in England "it's a bit rich" that we feel entitled to judge them from the comfort of our increasingly materialistic, soulless culture. 

5.  BTW, they have absolutely no political power anymore. Many people don't know that. They are simply figureheads.  They aren't oppressing anyone.  That's why this is a defence of the Current Royal Family.  Can't speak for the past…

6. These days I think the wedding was just positive hypnosis in a dark world. Those two 29-year olds who got married today are ten times more mature and responsible than, well, I certainly was at their age.  I found it lovely to see them stand up straight and be counted.  And their lives will actually be about something more than video games and the rat race.  What's so wrong with that?  And of course, some of that is because they're wealthy, but Kate Middleton comes from very hardworking parents who earned every cent of their wealth… they have lived the American dream, UK-style.  So our future Queen Kate will bring new blood to the mix.  Hurrah.  

In a world full of very serious problems, it was really nice to see two people come together and remind us all of halfway-decent behavior. The service was about God, and love, and serving something bigger than oneself.  And 2 billion people watched, which almost never happens anymore… the whole world getting together and tuning into something more beautiful than a mass killing and more  meaningful than an Oscar speech. I think that rules.  Pun intended. 

Finally, I haven't been blogging lately because i'm writing a new book.  It's really hard to do both.  Please bear with me. 

Jessica

You see, I went to Israel in December and had one of the best times of my life.  Between the landscape, the history, the people  and the classes I taught , it was an incredibly rich and layered experience. 

Hence, the blogstipation.  There is just too much to say. 

So, after ruminating on the topic for a while now, I have decided to distill the Israel experience down to its most meaningful element and the one that has lingered the longest; friendship.

I was invited to Israel by two friends, Sheldon and Ginat Rice .  They are both American Jews who moved back to the Holy Land and currently live in Jerusalem.  They are also both macrobiotic; Sheldon got into it over 20 years ago in order to dissolve a tumor discovered in his abdomen, and Ginat had stumbled upon macrobiotics in her early 20s… being a groovy, hip chick… and even ran a macro restaurant in Boston in the '80s. 15 years ago, Sheldon, being single after a long first marriage, and father to three daughters, held a macro potluck at his home in Jersalem.  Ginat showed up and the rest is history.  He proposed within a month !

Together Ginat and Sheldon have helped nurture a small but vital macrobiotic community in their area.  They work under the name of The Rice House and for years they have given lectures, classes and held potlucks.  Recently, they've decided to start importing teachers from the rest of the world… Michael Rossoff  had been over to give consulations and lectures… Christina Pirello  had a cooking class tour… and last spring, on the Taste of Health Cruise (coming up soon on Feb. 27th–JOIN US!), Ginat and Sheldon invited me to be the next to come to Israel.  I was overjoyed at the invitation and extremely excited about the trip.

For the next nine months, Sheldon and Ginat went into preparation mode.  They are both extremely detail-oriented people and Ginat even signed a recent email "The Ginorganizer" .  Together we figured out topics for the classes, recipes and did some press to get the word out, but behind the scenes, S and G handled everything else.  Not being much of a Jessorganizer, I will be forever grateful to them for that.

I arrived in early December and had a couple of days to just hang out, see some sites and get over the jetlag.  I camped out in their guest bedroom.  Now it's all very well to be a guest in someone's home for a weekend, or maybe 4 or 5 days maximum, but Ginat, Sheldon and I co-existed very happily and peacefully for SIXTEEN DAYS!  And not only did we share space, we managed to pack, shlep and set-up equipment and food for 12 different cooking classes (some of them at great distances), followed by the breaking down, schlepping back and putting away of said equipment after each class.  And, honest to God, we laughed throughout most of it.  

To what do I attribute this peace and general jolliness?  You guessed it: The Food.  Of course, Sheldon, Ginat and I are all basically good people; none of us is hysterical, histrionic, evil or insane.  Well, okay, maybe insane, but who isn't?  But even amongst good people, there are edges that get rubbed, buttons that get pushed and darkness tends to emerge.  But two important factors were in play here:  First, we had all eaten macrobiotically for a number of years.  This means that really old emotional sludge has been addressed or even eradicated.  In a very real way, the energy we were bringing to one another was quite clean.  Second, we ate well while we were together.  Sheldon was in charge of breakfast, Ginat Ginorganized lunch and I generally taught a cooking class which became dinner.  So as we moved through the stresses of co-habitation, work and play, our blood sugar remained level and we floated on a wave of wellbeing together .  When issues did arise, we each had a stable self to reflect upon and respond from.  There was no slinging mud .  Well, most days.   We were careful and kind. 

(By the way, Michio Kushi refers to all macrobiotic people as "friends".  When I first heard that, I considered it sort of kooky and hippy-ish, but it actually points at a very real truth; by eating natural foods, we begin to vibrate together in a peaceful, joyous way.) 

It was from this lovely, loving platform that we could–like three giggling children–enjoy our experiences.  The classes went really well (there is a recipe below).  Ginat and Sheldon made sure to show me lots of Israel, like the Negev desert , The Dead Sea , Old Jerusalem , The Sea of Gallilee , and Tel Aviv .  In those sixteen days, I also had the luck to meet all three of Sheldon's beautiful daughters… each a unique and powerful spirit.  While we traveled in the car, passing camels  and Bedouin neighborhoods , we discussed politics, religion, and history.  Neither Sheldon nor Ginat ever shyed away from some of my difficult questions, both of them attempting to answer them from a unified, macrobiotic perspective.  More on the politics next week…

There were so many layers of this trip, and I will continue to blog about it at least once more… but I wanted to begin with this simple, lovely layer of relationship.  I was amazed and delighted by the glue that arose between the three of us… the affection and caring that presented itself… I know that in those sixteen days, I secured friends for life. 

Recipe (adapted from Meg Wolff's new book A Life in Balance):

Sweet Potato and Arame Salad with Asian-Style Tartar Sauce

2 large sweet potatoes

2 parsnips

2 T olive oil

pinch of sea salt

black pepper

1 cup dry arame, reconstituted

1 T shoyu

1 T mirin

1 teaspoon toasted sesame oil

salad greens, such as arugula or watercress, to serve

toasted sesame seeds

Tartar sauce

½ cup vegan mayonnaise

1 T minced pickled ginger

½ teaspoon wasabi paste

1 small shallot, finely minced

1 tsp ume vinegar

2 T minced cilantro

big squeeze of lime juice

Preheat the oven to 375 degrees

Peel the sweet potato and parsnips and cut into bite-sized chunks. Steam the chunks for about 5 minutes, until they just start to soften up (you can do this in a steamer basket set over boiling water of by simmering in a small amount of water).

In the meantime, pour the olive oil onto a baking tray and let it heat up in the oven.  Transfer the potato and parsnip chunks to the over-warmed tray and sprinkle with salt and black pepper.  Toss to coat the vegetables evenly with the oil.  Put on top shelf of oven and bake for about 20 minutes, until they’re tender when pricked with a fork.

While the veggies are baking, prepare the arame and tartar sauce.  Measure out the arame dry, then soak in a bowl with enough water to cover for 10 to 15 minutes.  Drain and simmer the arame in about ¼ cup of the soaking water—drizzle with the shoyu and mirin while cooking.  After about 10 minutes, turn the heat up a bit to cook off any excess liquid and drizzle with the toasted sesame oil.  Mix together all the tartar sauce ingredients.

To serve, arrange the salad greens on plates or a serving platter, and top with the arame and sweet potato mixture.  Add a big dollop of the tartar sauce and sprinkle some toasted sesame seeds on top.

Variations:  You can use other veggies such as sweet squash or pumpkin, in place of the sweet potato.  You could also add corn, zucchini, or other vegetables. 

If you don’t like the tartar sauce too spicy, omit the wasabi.  Instead, add other ingredients like minced capers, chives, parsley, or minced dill pickle.

Later, when I was a private chef, I worked for some of his clients and would speak to him on the phone from behind the scenes, giving him my observations and taking his suggestions to tweak the food.  During those phone calls, I got to know him just a little better. 

Around the same time, I read Bill's book Feng Shui Made Easy .  I had never really gotten into Feng Shui, considering it too mystical and complicated.  In his book, Bill takes the view that the art of placement is goverend both by external laws but also can be generated from a clean, inner condition of the body.  When we eat whole, unprocessed foods, we tend to make better decisions… guided by our intution.  And intuitive Feng Shui is very powerful.

I have never read any other Feng Shui books.  Bill's book gave me enough to re-arrange my apartment, to furnish my office, and to even help others with their spaces.  His take on Feng Shui made perfect, and refreshingly satisfying sense.  Yay.

So I was growing in respect and admiration for Bill, but still felt a certain distance.  He was a big-time teacher.  Around since the Michio days.  Kickin' it Old School.  I was just a goofball.

During a Kushi Institute Summer Conference in the late 90s, I picked up the mic at the cafe.  I had been dabbling in standup comedy, doing a whole schtick called "Zen Comedy", which meant: Sometimes I'm funny… Sometimes I'm not.  Stupidly, but sometimes with the blessings of the standup gods, I would just stand up in front of audiences and riff… talking about this, that and the other thing, hoping to be funny. 

It wasn't until I had been up there for about ten minutes that I noticed Bill was in the audience.  Before I could feel self-conscious, I saw that he had melted into stupid laughter, tears rolling down his face.  He–longtime macro, Feng Shui dude, worldwide counselor–was a totall goofball too.

Since then we have been close friends and, a few years ago, I took The Passage.  Without saying too much about it, it was a transformative experience.  With his wisdom and compassion, Bill helps people move through the very real tunnels we get ourselves stuck in during life.  He has a HUGE heart and I am beyond grateful to have a place in it. 

Just last week, Bill launched a gorgeous new website about his macrobiotic counseling, his end-of-life counseling as well as the relief work he does around the world.  Oh yeah.  And there's an awesome new edition of Feng Shui Made Easy.  Pllease check him out. 

Remember: it is easy. You're basically just stuffing a dome of tofu with delicious stuffing and baking it. No biggie. It's just that the recipe sounds a little complicated… AH RECIPES! I SHAKE MY FIST AT YOU!!!

But this recipe is so easy, a child could do it.  And I'm not kidding.  Last year, Gail Goldman left the task of Tofu Turkey to her daughter Marley, and she did a FINE job.

Scooping tofu out of the dome: 

Making the stuffing: 

Removing the cheesecloth: 

Basting: 

and VOILA!: . 

Put it all together with some other delicious Holiday dishes and you have this!

Speaking of delicious recipes, I'm writing a new book and am very open to including wonderful recipes from readers… if you have any blow-your-socks-off macro or vegan recipes and you'd like to share them, please send them to me at jessicathehipchick@gmail.com. If I include it in the book, you will get full credit and a free copy.
And for that, I am very grateful.
xo Jessica

Tofu Turkey with Mushroom Gravy

Equipment:
Handheld blender or food processor
A medium-sized colander
Cheesecloth
A baking sheet
A pastry brush
Aluminum Foil
A skillet
A large measuring cup
Knife, wooden spoons, and the other usual stuff

Turkey:
5 lbs extra firm tofu
Shoyu
Toasted sesame oil
Onions (lots)
Mushrooms (lots)
Celery (a few stalks)
Seitan (if you like it)
Unyeasted, whole wheat sourdough bread, in cubes
Poultry seasoning (as much as you want)

Gravy:
Onions
Mushrooms (optional)
Water
Shoyu
Mirin (optional)
Brown rice vinegar (optional)
Kuzu

For the “Turkey”: THE NIGHT BEFORE: Whiz the 5 lbs. of tofu in a really big bowl with a handheld blender. If you don’t have one, it’s a great time to go get one. They are cheap ($30?) and soooooooo useful. I also refer to the handheld blender as “food dildo”. If you don’t have one, and aren’t going to get one, you can puree the tofu in a food processor, in batches, until it’s all smooth and creamy. There may be a few lumps, but nothing big. As you are blending, add about 2 tablespoons of shoyu to the tofu to give it a little extra taste. The more daring may add some herbs…

You now have a 5 lb blob of tofu. Congratulations! Take a colander (medium-sized or smallish are best–the bigger the colander, the flatter the “turkey” will be) and line it with a double layer of cheese cloth, with about six inches extra on each side. Place the colander on a big plate or baking sheet. Spoon your tofu blob into the cheesecloth-lined colander until it molds completely to the colander. A little tofu “milk” will start coming through the colander. That’s good. That’s why you’re doing this, to press all excess liquid out of the tofu, making it a sturdier turkey. Fold the extra cheese cloth over the top of the tofu and place a plate and a weight on top of that. Let sit overnight in the fridge.

The next day: Take the turkey out of the fridge. Pour off any extra tofu liquid that seeped out overnight from the baking sheet or whatever you had the colander sitting on. Remove the weight, the plate and pull back the extra cheese cloth to reveal the bottom of the “dome” that will be your turkey. Now here’s the tricky part: You must now dig into the upside-down dome, with your hand, creating a space in the middle that you will put the stuffing into. Try to dig so that you leave about 1/2 to 1 inch of tofu between you and the colander–in other words, so the dome maintains a decent thickness all round. If you find that you dig too far, you can repair it with tofu, but do your best to dig a nice ditch in the tofu, leaving the walls of the dome thick enough to protect the stuffing. Does that make sense?

Now you have a pile of tofu and an upside-down dome of tofu. Your parents must be very proud! Preheat your oven to
350 F and start working on the stuffing!

In a skillet, heat the oil, and saute the onions and a pinch of salt for about five minutes. Add the mushrooms and another pinch of salt. Add celery, seitan, poultry seasoning and bread. Sprinkle with shoyu to taste. You know what you like in a stuffing. Do whatever you want to achieve that. Make way more than you need because extra stuffing is one of life’s great benefits. When the stuffing makes you all happy and say “ooooo”, then place it in the dome of tofu, packing it down well. Take the rest of your dug-out tofu (leaving aside about 1/2 cup) and place it on top of the stuffing (and on top of the dome edges), making a bottom for the dome. Pack it down well.

Tricky part number two: Now, take a baking sheet and place it over the colander. Make sure it covers it completely. Hold them together tightly. In a graceful and quick maneuver, flip the whole colander upside-down, so that your dome now sits on the baking sheet. Remove the colander. Remove the cheesecloth, and voila! That’s your un-cooked “turkey”. If there are any cracks in the turkey, do your best to repair them with your leftover tofu. If they are really bad, just chalk it up to experience–you’ll do much better next year (or try again at Christmas!) and this will still taste great.

Make a mixture of 2 parts sesame oil to 1 part shoyu and, using a pastry brush, baste the turkey with it. Be generous with the basting. Cover the turkey with aluminum foil and bake for 1 hour. Uncover, baste again and cook for 15 more minutes, uncovered. Baste one more time and cook for 15 minutes more. Let sit for 1 hour before cutting, while you make your gravy!!

GRAVY:
Dice a bunch of onions and mushrooms. Saute onions first, with a pinch of salt, until translucent and yummy, then add mushrooms, another pinch of salt, and saute until softened and wilty.

Apparently, I just made up that word: Wilty. I know that because my computer has put a red line beneath it. Oh well.

Anyway, pour some water in a large measuring cup and add water to this saute, equalling the amount of gravy you want. You have the measuring cup so that you know how much liquid you’re using–you will need to know this for when you add the kuzu later. So make a mental note of it.

Then add shoyu, carefully, to taste (you might want to start with 1 teaspoon per cup of liquid, and add from there if desired). I haven’t given strict measurements here because a) I’m lazy and b) you are the arbiter of your gravy’s strength and saltiness. You can also add mirin (about 1/3 the amount of shoyu you put in) and a dash of brown rice vinegar, if you like. I find that the combo of the shoyu, mirin and just a touch of brown rice vinegar makes for a nice meaty flavor in the gravy.

Let it all come to a boil and then simmer for at least ten minutes.

Now, measure out the equivalent of 1 level tablespoon of kuzu per cup of gravy liquid. If it’s not perfect, don’t worry–if the gravy ends up being not thick enough, you can add more kuzu, and if it’s too thick, you can add more water and shoyu. I think gravy should be a pleasurable, sort of intuitive dish, so don’t get too hung up on it.

WHAT YOU DO NEED TO GET HUNG UP ON, though, is that kuzu needs to be diluted in cold water and be lump-free before being added to the gravy. If you add chunks of undiluted kuzu, they will become unbreakable lumps in the gravy. So when your kuzu is nice and diluted (you can break it up with your fingers in the cold water–I recommend that), add it slowly to the gravy as you stir it vigorously. The gravy will become glossy and thicken. Let it come to a boil, then reduce flame to a simmer. If the gravy is not thick enough for you, add more kuzu. If it’s too thick, add more liquid. Once you’ve gotten the thickness right, let it simmer for about ten minutes before serving on slices of tofu turkey.

Serves 8-12.

I’m not going to name names. It freaks me out to go public with something so private. Neither Facebook nor my blog are appropriate for that. Plus, he was one of the few internet holdouts… preferring to connect face-to-face with the rest of the world… when he wanted to connect.

And frankly, his name only matters to those of us who knew him.

But let’s put it this way; this person didn’t fit too well in life. I mean, life wanted him—he was loved by his family, and many friends. He was good-looking, charming, funny and fit. And even more than that, he had a special soul-level quality that was unstoppably loveable… inexplicable, really, considering he could also drive us all nuts. But at the end of the day–and usually somewhere before noon–we loved him, and extended our hearts and hands to him with ease.

But it wasn’t enough. Not because we didn’t try, but because he, and life, were just not a good fit. It’s as if the limits and rules of 21st century existence were just too much. As if duality had too tight a squeeze on him. No matter how hard he tried, a strange and ugly foot would emerge from beneath him and trip him up until he fell, again and again. It was more than addiction. More than stubborn pride. I’ve seen those things trip people up before. It was as if a deep wiring… perhaps from a childhood brain injury… just kept zapping him from the inside, striking him down, again and again. And falling doesn’t feel good after a while. Because people notice. And he couldn’t help but notice… and he began to judge himself. And it is that awful, final, human judge—the one inside—whose gavel hits the hardest.

About eight years ago, I drove him to a hospital because he wanted to hurt himself. Before getting in the car, I said I understood what it was like to want to fall asleep and never wake up again. It would be like going back home. Like taking The Big Nap. I didn’t think it was crazy to feel the pull to go back to that peaceful place—the Big Yin– but that I wished he would stay with us and try to figure it out. That I would try to help him touch The Big Nap from this side without hurting himself.

I was thinking: Meditation. Eating better. Maybe going to a meeting.

But those just weren’t his things.

M tried for eight more years. He duked it out with duality, while holding in his chest a secret, dark desire to get the hell out. He was a brave, brave man for simply fighting that battle for such a long time. It must have been brutal. It was so easy for us—for whom life fits comfortably five days out of seven—to watch him from the outside and feel his unstoppable loveliness coming at us. To be the recipients of his jokes, or his tenderness, or his photos of funny dogs he saw, or little kids he knew. It was easy for us to say “it’s gonna be okay”.

But it wasn’t okay for him. It just wasn’t. For whatever reason, his drive to get out—to take that Big Nap—finally won.

I know we’re supposed to abhor a suicide. That’s just the Judeo-Christian way. But this lovely, lovely man… who touched my life in such beautiful ways… and whose struggle I was privy to… I refuse to judge his choice. I just refuse. Judgment was his problem on this side.

I love him. And I will miss him terribly. And I’m glad he's finally free.

BUT I rarely blow my own horn as a cook.  I'm really not that good a cook.  I mean, I have a good vibe in the kitchen, but I'm extremely messy and rarely think up new things… When someone calls me a chef, I laugh and correct them quickly. 

Soooo, when I do think up something nice, I get extremely excited, and I yell it from the moutaintops.  Here goes:

Really Good Minestrone

Please forgive the lack of specifics on this recipe… I made it for twenty people recently and just eyeballed it. 

Ingredients:

Approx I cup kidney beans, soaked overnight

sea salt

6 cups vegetable stock (preferably homemade, but don't go crazy)

1/2 a winter squash, preferably Hokkaido pumpkin or buttercup, in chunks

a few large carrots, chopped into big chunks

1 medium beet

umeboshi vinegar

shoyu

1 to 2 tablespoons olive oil

1 onion, diced

2 large stalks celery, diced

1/2 teaspoon dried oregano

1/2 teaspoon dried marjoram

1/4 head green cabbage, diced

1 cup green beans, sliced on the diagonal

White miso, if needed, for extra taste

1 cup whole wheat macaroni noodles, cooked, if desired. 

Chopped parsley to garnish

Directions:

Bring kidney beans to a boil in fresh water to cover.  As the water cooks away, add a cup of cold water, carefully poured down the side of the pot.  This is the shocking method, and it works very well for cooking beans.  Cook until they are soft.  Salt to taste: remember, you want the beans to be tasty–inside and out–so don't skimp on the salt here. 

While the beans are cooking, place the squash, carrot and beet in a pressure cooking and add water that goes about halfway up the vegetables.  This is your no-mato sauce that whill make the soup taste tomato-y.  Close the lid and bring to pressure.  Reduce heat and let simmer for about ten minutes.  Let the pressure come down and scoop the vegetables into a food processor, with the liquid. 

Whiz the veggies until smooth.  Add umeboshi vinegar first.  This will give the no-mato liquid the tang and slight acidity of tomatoes.  Keep adding until it tastes nice and tomato-y to you.  It will permeate the whole soup, so don't be afraid of making it strong.  Add a teaspoon or so of shoyu just to round out the taste and darken the sauce slightly.  If needed, add more.

Heat the olive oil over medium heat.  Saute the onion until soft.  Add the celery and the herbs and continue to saute for a few minutes.  Pour in vegetable stock and kidney beans and bring to a boil.

If you're using noodles, now is a good time to cook them and rinse them with cold water until needed. 

When the stock and beans are simmering, add the no-mato sauce.  Let it all come together as a soup.  Add cabbage, beans and miso, if needed.  Let simmer for 10 minutes.  Finally, if you're using noodles, put them in last. 

Serve garnished with chopped parsley. 

Serves 8.

Of course, like I said, I eyeballed this recipe so you may find that you need more seasoning, more vegetables or more herbs. 

You might also want to make this in a slightly larger batch and freeze half of it for soupy afternoons this winter.

YAYYYYYYYYYY!!!!!!!!!!

Jessica

Roughly ten years ago, word got out about her skills and Mayumi went off to cook for a singer named… um… oh yeah, MADONNA. She spent seven years chopping and sauteeing for the Material Girl and her ever-expanding brood. That gig bounced her around from New York to London to LA and on tours  around the world. If you think Madonna looks pretty good for her age, Mayumi, and the macrobiotic diet, have had a lot to do with it.

Here's what Madge has to say about Mayumi:

"In the seven years you lived with us and cooked for us, your amazing food helped me to be a happier, healthier person, balanced in body and mind.  I feel better than I did twenty years ago.  I am very grateful to you for this."   Yaayyyyyyyyyy!!!!!! I love macrobiotics!!!!!!

Because my mother lived in London, I got into the habit of seeing Mayumi whenever I was over there. We would meet to have tea at some fancy department store… sticking with the green tea and fruity desserts, of course.

Then, when I moved to Los Angeles, we bumped into each other here, and gossiped over agave-sweetened chocolate cake at Real Food Daily  in Santa Monica.

A couple of years ago, Mayumi moved back to her homeland of Japan, where she hasn't lived in 20-odd years. I figured I would help her adjust by making her take me out for lunch in Tokyo. We bonded over the totally macrobiotic lunch (designed by LA's Nadine Barner) at the Peninsula Hotel… SWANK!! Mayumi designed the macro menu there last year, so she knew the ropes.

Finally, last week, I giggled over soba and yuba with Mayumi at Souen in New York City . She was there to visit her daughter, who lives in Brooklyn.

I say all this because Mayumi has also written an amazing cookbook , which finally came out in English and which I highly recommend.  It's call Mayumi's Kitchen: Macrobiotic Cooking for Body and Soul.

It contains a great ten-day detox plan and a ton of wonderful recipes, including this one, great for fall:

Brown Rice Mochi Crepes with Stewed Apricots

1 tsp rapeseed or sunflower oil

2 cups grated brown rice mochi

Stewed Apricots

10 dried apricots, quartered

1/3 cup spring water

pinch sea salt

1. Make the stewed apricots: Combine the apricots, spring water, and salt in a small pot and bring to a boil over high heat.  Reduce heat to medium-low and simmer for 15 minutes.

2.  Heat the oil in a frying pan and sprinkle the grated mochi in an even layer so as to form a thin pancake.  Cover and cook over low heat until the mochi melts.  Do not turn over.  Make 3 more in the same way.

3.  Serve the mochi with the stewed apricots rolled up inside or spread on top, or both. 

Mmmm…  Enjoy!

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Japan is full, brimming over actually, with the weirdest stuff.  There are remote controls for the toilets  which will spray your butt, air dry your butt, and make a noise to cover up the noise your butt makes doing what your butt is designed to do.  There are ferris wheels on buildings, cat cafes , maid cafes, crazy arcades , Love Hotels, disposable underwear, individually-wrapped marshmallows  and plastic cases to keep your banana unbruised.  I could write five full pages about all the strange stuff before even mentioning the Ice Cream Museum, the English malapropisms on the T-shirts (I heart my coquetry) and the capsule hotel we stayed in that made me feel stuck in a Stanley Kubrick movie. 

Oh yeah, and the food is unbelievable.  Although it’s been a challenge (one I’m not winning) to find macro staples like brown rice, Japan is exploding with food; ramen, sushi, soba , tempura, yakitori, and take-away bento boxes are all available everywhere.  Every train station is full of places to eat, every department store also laden with good restaurants.  We haven’t even touched the high-end places because they’re not within our budgets, but there has not yet been one unforgettable meal.  Even convenience stores carry rice balls and side dishes like hijiki.  Yes, it’s white rice and the hijiki probably has sugar in it, but it’s all there.  And if you’re a dessert person, this is the country for you.  In the basement of many department stores are basically what we could call food courts but the similarity ends there–I’m talking ACRES devoted solely to sweets:  Jellies, dumplings, cookies, cakes, candies and other cavity-making delights, all presented like fine works of art .  There’s even green tea chocolate painted with gold.  Oh my. 

But none of that will give you a real sense of Japan.  I think it needs to be experienced, because it is Japan’s vibe which is truly lovely.  It is one of the most un-frenetic places I have ever been–massive throngs of people and high-pitched salespeople yelling “irashymasay” notwithstanding.  Every time Emily and I stood on a street corner staring cluelessly at our map, a stranger would arrive and ask if he or she could help us.  But more than that, the stranger would make sure we found our destination; there was a certain pride mixed with kindness in the gesture. 

At a traditional hotel in Kyoto, we were treated like princesses, served a fourteen-course dinner in our robes and footie socks by a lovely kimono-clad woman. I then went downstairs for a bath in a big cedar box, which spilled onto the cedar-slat floor exactly the amount of water my body displaced.  The sound of the warm water rushing over the side was both a sensory pleasure and a symbol of the abundance I was experiencing.  As if the bath itself was saying “your cup runneth over”.  It was a soul-expanding moment of luxury. 

Japan is full of those moments.  In fact, it’s all about them.  Every thing, every experience, every interaction, is designed to be beautiful.  Attention is paid to every detail.  Nothing is Japan is done without a refined consciousness that I imagine was cultivated originally in the exquisite temples of Kyoto… where the wind whistles over the tatami mats… surrounded by natural temples of bamboo… ahhh.

It is a country that still honors its craftspeople and their wares.  In a Kyoto department store, one whole floor was devoted to a recent celebration of local artisans; devoted laquer artists, leather workers, umbrella-makers, glass-blowers,  brush-makers, basket-weavers, print-makers, statuary sculptors… you name it, they were there, doing their thing.  And this not at some crafts fair, out in an abandoned parking lot.  It was taking place on the top floor of a high-end department store.  It seems the Japanese respect beauty and the work that goes into creating it.

Frankly, it makes the rest of us look like boors. 

But before I apply to emigrate, I must remember what George Ohsawa said: “Everything that has a front has a back”.  And of course, after only 14 days here, I am seeing Japan’s front; I am a visitor, who speaks no Japanese, so my impressions are relatively superficial. I don’t pretend to even think that I have touched upon anything but an initial layer; every culture has its complexities, its texture, and its contradictions. I am sure Japan has depths and quirks I will never get to know. But for right now I feel like a kid who has discovered a gem the size of my fist—no wait–my head,and I am truly dazzled by its sparkling facets.

Arigato

P.S. It's taking too long to upload all the pictures… I will fill them in when I get back to the States.  Damn Japanese wi-fi!  I guess nothing is perfect.