TOUR NEWS, AND DECISION-MAKING

Even the airport runways look beautiful right now, here in Montreal, as the late afternoon sun gilds them against a backdrop of dark clouds, and a fat solid-looking vibrant rainbow stands anchored in the richly green grass on the far side of the tarmac.  Mother Nature sure can surprise us, especially in places where she feels quite absent. Suddenly there it is - remarkable light, or startling thunder or ethereal mist - and we’re reminded that we are not in an entirely manufactured landscape and that beauty is always possible.

Sometimes we need reminding, so that we have eyes to see it. Other times we’re hit over the head with it, as I was a few minutes ago with that incredible rainbow pillar.

I’ve been in Montreal for two days now, courtesy Random Hosue Canada, on book tour. I’ve spoked to radio hosts, mostly in studio, and most of them were well prepared and interesting to talk to. I’ve done a TV interview too, with an impeccably prepared interviewer. And I’ve made some recipes from the Burma book and had lovely animated long conversations with print media people of various kinds. Today I was at Appetite for Books, a cookbook store in Westmount, talking about BURMA, answering questions, and signing books.  

Now as I get on the plane, I am trying to look forward, and get my head clear, for tomorrow I am scheduled to speak at the International Festival of Authors, a great honour.  I am on with two writers, all of us writing about travel but in very different ways. A clear head is needed between now and then, for I still haven’t decied what I will read tomorrow. My friend Robin wrote to tell me which story she thought I should include. And others have come up as candidates. But it’s still an open questions... and perhaps only when I get there tomorrow will I finally decide.

It feels like a rather more serious version of that restaurant situation, when I’m eating with a friend or more and can’t bring myself to decide what to order. When that happens I ask to go last ordering. Then I grab a decision out of the air at the last minute. What is this kind of indecisiveness? And what makes a decision crystallise? I’m not talking about life decisions here, so much as relatively simple either-or decisions.

I find the food-order-decision-in-a-restaurant situation the easiest to explore, probably because of it’s familiarity, but also I suppose because it is so essentially trivial or at least without deep or difficult consequences. So why not pick arbitrarily? Why wait for inspiration or decisiveness to strike when it surely would be just as easy to opt for one of the menu choices arbitrarily?

I think it’s because a decision is a chance to exercise power, in a small way. We hate to waste those moments, for we don’t always have that pleasureable sense that it’s up to us, that we are in charge; when we have that decision-point feeling there’s a surge of energy, a sense that we have an opportunity to get it right, and that if and when we do we’ll feel extra satisfaction.  

Once I’ve opted for my food order, I settle calmly, and then when it comes I look again, at the options, the dishes my companions ordered, and I can’t stop myself assessing whether I optimised, whether I am delighted by the result of my choice.

Is this all about intuition? Is it really about trying to match our inner needs? 

Perhaps each decision point is a place for small anxiety, as we have the chance to make the perfect choice but also the possibility that our choice will be merely OK and not ideal. 

I’ve had several times of high stress when I’ve been indecisive about what to wear, I mean seriously indecisive, so that I found the process of getting dressed very stressful. I guess it was anxiety. And that small decision, that one-day commitment, was the closest easiest thing for the anxiety to attach to.

But now, when I think about a food order in a restaurant, am I talking about the same kind of thing? Or is it that anticipation of unformed or inchoate or multi-possibility pleasure is more satisfying than anticipation of a defined or limited one? Is it just that I want to prolong the sense of possibility, the richness of choice? 

All right, so I don’t have an answer. But does this discussion help at all with understanding why I haven’t yet been able to decide what story or text I will read at the International festival of Authors tomorrow?

LATER:

Well I did decide in the end which stories to read, but only a few minutes before it was time to go out and speak and read. Suddenly I felt clear and was able to eliminate a number of my “possibles”. I didn;t ask Rachel Joyce or Arno Kopecki, the two wonderful authors who read in the travel section with me, if they had experienced the same difficulty deciding. That’s a question you can ask, the next time you go to a reading...

LETTING GO WITH FRIENDS AND FEASTINGS

It’s been awhile since I wrote here. Now the end of July is upon us, and where did July go? I find myself asking, and others too echo the question. Well it went in an apparently seamless succession of gorgeous days and heat with enough rain for the garden and early ripenings of fruits and vegetables. In other words it disappeared into a summer Eden. How lovely!

I was going to write earlier in the week about a magical full-moon nighttime I had up in Grey County last weekend, watching thin veilings of clouds swirl past the bright moon as I sat on the steps of friends’ wooden house, alone and peaceful, and grateful for it all. But somehow in the rush of getting myself to Montreal and tidying up Burma recipes and whatever other excuses I have, the blogpost didn’t happen.

Montreal? you say. Again? Yes, and with pleasure. I am always happy to see friends there, but this trip was especially to connect with Nancy Jenkins (of Maine and Tuscany) and her daughter Sara, chef-owner of the amazing Porchetta in NYC and about to open another restaurant, equally true Italian, on Seventh St East, sometime in September. I hadn’t seen them for too many years. They were planning to spend four days in Montreal, in “Europe North” as Sara now calls Canada, and I grabbed at the chance to have time with them.

Yes, we talked, and yes we ate, and yes, most of all, we had fun, extra sweet because of the perfect grandchild, as Nancy calls Sara’s son. There was the obligatory-for-new-visitors meal at Au Pied de Cochon (with the obligatory poutine with foie gras, despite the summer heat), and the ditto stop for smoked meat sandwiches at Schwartz’s. (We were there at 10.30 in the morning, a perfect calm time, no crowds, no rush.)

That meal of medium smoked meat sandwich with pickle tided me over until evening, when we had a blow-out Italian feast courtesy Michele Forgione and his team. We ate regional Italian dishes, amazing home-made charcuterie of all kinds,, home-made pastas, a slow-roasted perfect Quebec pig, loaded with delish crackling... You get the drift. Oh and there were nicely chosen Italian wines too, of course. Lesley Chesterman of the Montreal Gazette, a fun dining companion and fine writer, was there and taking notes; do go find her online at http://www.lesleychesterman.com/ to get details; I imagine she’ll tweet them or blog them sometime soon... not sure.

All I can say is that if Michele’s planned restaurant delivers this kind of quality and light touch, it will be packed with happy diners. He’s hoping to open in the next year.

On another food subject, I just recently stumbled into Rachel Lauden’s blog... I am in touch with her on Facebook, but had failed to check out her blog. It’s very interesting, and challenging, since she is a food historian who is a rigorous thinker too, so rather than making sweeping generalisations or indulging in romanticising the past, she’s clear-eyed and lets her curiosity, rather than wishful thinking, lead her. Have a look; I’m sure you’ll enjoy it. (I was snagged by her musings on thin rice doughs, aka ouarka/popiah etc, here

And off food as a focus.... In the last couple of months I have found myself getting too intense from time to time about decision-making and daily life. Today over coffee I talked about it with a friend, who's had a similar struggle with intensity and treating all of life as momentous these last months.

What is this all about? Well perhaps it’s first about an ongoing awareness of the frailties of life, but somehow unfiltered, so that the head gets tied in a knot, fussing about and worrying about not wasting time and opportunity. But this is such a sterile place to be. It takes the brain on round-and-round circles fruitlessly. A mind-clenched stress about details means that we are not free to imagine and enjoy, to have fresh thoughts and appreciate daily pleasures. If your eye is always on a potential future benefit or catastrophe, then it’s not attuned to the now, right?

Well, said another friend, how to get out of this stressful and paralysing feeling that every moment and every decision is momentous? Is it a matter of developing a new regimen? Or what?

My answer so far, and it seems to be working, is that now that I recognise the issue, it’s up to me to let go, that is, whenever I get clenched about a decision or worrying about tomorrow, I remind myself to step back, breathe deeply, smell the flowers, and say, so what? If things go wrong, so what? I can deal with the fall-out of whatever problems arise, and once again, so what?

I’m enjoying this growing sense of freedom. I’m feeling my full wingspan. It’s a joy and is powerful too. Like anyone, I sure can backslide. But I have to say, the lightness of heart I feel each day is growing, and so is the gratitude I feel, to have health and loving friends and family, and each new day to look forward to.

LOCAL TRAVELS AND GREEN MAGIC

I'm sitting on the train...in the rain.... heading west, from Montreal back home to Toronto.

I never made it to Grand Manan Island. My friend’s car sprouted serious bearings problems and we got squeezed for time. Instead I had a couple of days in Ottawa, time to see my aunt and my cousin Jennifer, and to swim in the Gatineau River, hurrah! on June 2, almost a record (but not in fact very brave, given the early warmth this spring and the resulting relative kindness of the river’s temperature), as well as to spend good time with my friend Lianne. We talked a lot about our plans for an immersethrough session on Grand Manan in September. After that I had more than twenty-four hours in Montreal. Most of that was spending time with an old friend who is not well, but I also got to Fromentier for the first time, the arguably best bread bakery in Montreal, and to Kouignaman, a charming bakery-cafe.

I wanted to take care of my friend in the short time I was in Montreal, do something to help her feel better or to distract her. Food is a nice tangible offering, so that's where I headed, that and conversation. On the food front, my friend yearned for green vegetables but how best to do that? She has some swallowing issues and also can’t handle strong flavours or acids such lemon or lime juice or vinegar, and avoids most meat. She needs to put on some weight and gain strength. I wanted to make food for her that I could freeze in small batches, so she would have fall-backs on days when she had no-one around to help with cooking etc. I made a simple risotto with chunks of sweet potato and a little mushroom and some sugar peas, for supper. Alongside was a simply poached piece of organic salmon, tender and delish. But that was just one meal, not for pantry loading.

For the longer term I made a large batch of masur dal (easy to freeze and to flavour later but edible as is, with just salt and olive oil) and also a puree, a kind of thick soup, of assorted greens. I made two versions and now realise how forgiving the whole concept is. I started with olive oil in a wide cast-iron skillet, into which went minced garlic and ginger and some onion too. Then I added slices of sweet potato and portobello mushroom and when they were softened a little, in went a lot of chopped arugula, spinach, watercress, and dandelion greens, and some chopped sugar peas. Seasoning was just a little salt and a splash of fish sauce. Once the greens were well cooked (with the addition of a little water or stock), I poured them into her sturdy old osterizer and whizzed the whole thing to a thick gorgeous puree. With the second batch I added a small chopped avocado and whizzed it again.

That magic green puree was delicious, both versions were... (especially eaten over a few slices of slippery tender Shan tofu “noodles”; I made a small batch of “Shan tofu” while I was at it, experimenting a little more with the recipe and discovering how forgiving it is). So don’t worry about proportions when making spring greens puree, just go try your own version. It’s like spring in a bowl. The sweet potato isn’t necessary of course, but its sweetness was a nice little balance with the dandelion greens. You could instead use extra minced onion...

Along with cooking and conversation with friends, this short trip was also a reminder, yet another, to count my blessings. How wonderful to be able to take a train and go to visit friends and family and revisit childhood memories. How wonderful to walk through parts of Montreal that I don’t know well, discovering new places I want to return to.

And now, some hours after I started writing this, I can say, as I sit at midnight in the familiar warmth of my own kitchen, how wonderful to be able to return home...