Food. It does a body good.

My mood these last few days has been all about food, music and color.
Michigan is fucking gray right now. The gray that used to be green but is now gray and is waiting to turn green again. Gray with a hint of green. Even with a good day of bright sunshine, it's still gray with a memory of green to it.
It's just ugly. That institutional green-gray.
At any rate, I got this great CD from the library. It's a compilation of Mexican music, all styles spanning many decades. There's old, glamorous big band stuff, mariachi, ranchero, modern ska type of stuff, crazy drunken women crooning their hearts out. It's mad. I love it. You can only imagine sunshine and dust and color and food. Every time I set foot in the kitchen I turn this CD on.
It makes me want to make 17 different dishes of food, throw a big party, paint my house Frida Kahlo blue, and grow my dish-water blonde hair long enough to put it in those stunning Zapatista braids. (Don't think I'd achieve that same beautiful Latina look, but I can dream.)

So I thought I'd make a list of the foods I am craving these days. The foods that I am making on the fly, or taking time to cook.
I'm making a ton of quesadillas, with sides of beans and rice, Trader Hoe's guacamole (Avocado's Number~that's funny), and cholula hot sauce. How can such a substantial meal take only 20 minutes to prepare and taste so damn good?

Another quick one: half a block of extra firm tofu, crumbled. 3-5 Tb chutney (right now I have a really good spicey pear chutney one of the midwives made, canned and gave as gifts), some curry powder (or your own blend of cumin, coriander, turmeric, etc.), 3 Tb mayonaise, some currants or raisins, some walnuts, mix it all up and you've got some yummy, high protein curry salad that tastes really good on pita with some greens. Cheap and tasty!

I'm all about white beans right now. They're creamy and stick to your ribs. In the crock pot: 2 cans of white beans, one can of tomatoes (3 fresh tomatoes if you have them, they're not worth buying fresh yet), 1/4 cup sundried tomatoes, 1 1/2 cups vegetable stock, one sauteed onion and a couple cloves garlic...all together on low for 2-6 hours (the beauty of a crock pot, no?). Just before you serve it, throw in a 3 Tb or so basil pesto. I eat it with pasta just to make it a bit heavier. But it's supposed to be a stew. Even the kids dug it. Greg doesn't like sundried tomatoes. I don't understand that, but it seems to be true.

The other white bean fabulous dish (and this is my new sin since coming back to the world of meat eaters after a 7 year hiatus): white bean chicken cassoulet. Those of my friends who got a Eating Well subscription from me (and it was such a good deal over the holidays that I got it for at least 6 people) will find this recipe in the Jan/ Feb issue. It's got white beans, chicken and look out: kielbasa. This was the first time I had kielbasa (this Polack girl's favorite comfort food) in years and I was in love. There's something about the saltiness of the kielbasaa mixed with the little bit of white wine just making those beans and chicken swim around in it.... good God, that's the goods.

I love food. I love eating. It's one of those pleasures that make me a better person. I actually get excited and feel my endorphins pumping when I know I'm going to a restaurant I really love or to someone's house that can cook really well. (Like Clint and Tammy's kick ass pozole)
It's like running endorphins, it's like being in labor and giving that half-crocked smile between contractions, it's like good sex after having a few beers and feeling slap-happy. Food does this to me. And I am thankful for it.
Like really good coffee or insanely dark chocolate. People need to slow the hell down and taste every little morsel. Try to figure out what spices are creating the myriad of tastes in their mouths. Itty bitty shivers.

Add to this splendor a really great Mexican music CD and I am transported to somewhere warm. There's lots of colors, rich colors. People are tan, healthy. Not puffy, white, doughy bodies covered in layers of synthetic fibers. Barefoot. Warm backs. No goose bumps. No gray grass.
My big, Victorian, gingerbread colored/styled house is transformed in that blue Frida house with an open court yard full of flowers and lemon trees. Windows are open, dogs and kids are running crazy and we're cooking mad, fabulous food. Throw in a couple of chickens running around aimlessly.

I've been pulled back by my dog who has taken to barking at something outside when everyone is asleep but me. Gotta go out into the cold and pull her in.