Vegging it up

not out

Hi Autotelic Family.

Some of you know that I like to cook when I have time. I learned first by watching the women in my family move about the kitchen when I was a girl. They cooked like they were having a dancing conversation with their kitchens — a waltz to the sink, a foxtrot to the stove, a modified plié to put a pie or a pan of biscuits in the oven all the while talking, singing, or wiping a runny nose — the love that went into their cooking and the resulting deliciousness that came out was indeed full of intentionality and grace. They probably would never have thought of their daily acts of nourishment as such, but that’s how I remember them.

Their cooking and home keeping is one of the things I carry most solidly with me now, now that I am a woman who is juggling the full blooms of my beautifully full life. I am grateful for the lessons they imparted whether or not they knew they were teaching them.

I learned more about cooking and the beautiful tastes that can be created in a kitchen by getting out into the world — I never tasted authentic Italian or Indian food in those kitchens where I spent my first years, but I sure loved them when I did. I figured out that cooking is like most everything else in life — there are dishes that need precision to turn out well, but there are also those that are more forgiving and can withstand a bit of experimentation.

I suppose the point of telling you all of this is that I am always experimenting, and this morning I decided to cook some black rice. I’ve recently made a commitment to making plants the basis of my diet, and that naturally requires more grains to go with them. I won’t label myself anything because I want to allow the occasional mindful cheeseburger splurge if I feel like I need one, but here’s the deal: I need to get a lot more years out of this body. What goes in it will surely affect how many years I actually get. I also feel like not eating animal products when I can avoid them is one thing I can do to help our environment, so I’ve taken a bit of a dive into cooking without them.

I cook rice in the instant pot most every day now — I try to eat as little gluten as possible (hi, autoimmune tendencies that don’t need help from inflammation) and John Henry is also a rice lover. We can both eat bowls of it plain or with just a little salt or tamari. But I’d never tried black rice before. First of all, wow is it pretty! I figured, because it is a small, hard rice, that it would require a little extra cooking than regular white rice or risotto (if you haven’t cooked risotto in the instant pot please explore doing so! No standing over the pot stirring and it comes out perfectly) so I did a quick google search and sure enough, six more minutes on high pressure and two more on natural release than white. It came out perfectly — it’s hearty, sort of crunchy like farro, and flavorful.

I scooped out a few spoonfuls, sprinkled on some flaky salt, topped it with half an avocado, and drizzled some of my favorite harissa on top. Breakfast isn’t always about eggs. Delicious.

Here’s how I cooked it: Rinse the black rice thoroughly. I did it twice. Then put equal parts rice and water into the instant pot and set it at high pressure for eighteen minutes. Allow natural release for ten minutes, then manually release the remaining pressure. Fluff.

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I also just got a new cookbook that I can’t wait to explore. Look at how pretty this is!

I’ll let you know what I find. And send me your vegetable based recipes, please.

In the meantime, I hope you dance in your kitchen as often as possible.

Sending love everywhere,

AM