Crisp fall chicories cradle late-summer stone fruits picked past their prime, softened by months spent ripening beneath stifling sun. Black Ruby plums, golden yellow peaches, honey-hued nectarines, and a German-striped tomato find solace amongst a bed of radicchio leaves. On top, a flowering of marigold petals which I could lie and say were intentionally added for a piquant peppery punch rather than their looks, but I’ve adopted an unabashed acceptance of my aesthetic priorities (although, they were indeed a spontaneous addition on behalf of my apartment’s rooftop community garden, where I prefer to photograph). Finished with my current favorite chartreuse olive oil and a sprinkling of red volcanic salt + cracked peppercorns meant to complete, rather than compete with the produce.
~
With summer in the peripheral, fall in full force, and winter somehow already in view (which I attribute mostly to my day job that forces us to constantly think months in advance), the first of the cool days have reminded me of the visceral qualities of the latter months. At the height of each season, I can’t fathom what the extremes of the opposite feel like, so when shifts begin, even if subtle, they present jarringly. A stretch of 4, dreary, 60-degree days contrasted with the week of a furiously strong September sun prior was an ominous reminder of what the cold months have brought in the past years.
Perpetually clenched shoulders; muscles innately bracing in response to temperatures decreasing, but also, a physical symptom of annually heightened mental stress.
Today I paused. In reflecting, I dissected the trendlines of my seasonal dispositions over the last five years. This involved looking at not only my past self’s internal state but also the outward environments I’ve found myself in. Noting the conditions of my relationships (familial and otherwise), the stage of my career (or jobs held at the time), and the prevalence of natural landscapes versus manufactured facades. And whilst I don’t feel confident in this moment that ease will ensue anytime soon, or any drastic life changes that come about in my grass-is-greener daydreams will actualize before the year’s end, I’m glad that I’ve recognized this cyclical pattern.
Maybe I’ll take this moment as a reminder to ground, rest easy, relax my shoulders, and know that I don’t have to brace myself for a harsh, biting chill ahead. Each season is new, its own, and not subject to the pretense of past years unless I choose to apply it. I can choose to be excited, to allow whatever to come, and trust I’ll find warmth and levity some days. Emphasis on some. To hell with the all-or-nothing mentally. When my mind is muddled and mired in anxiety during the day-to-day, it likes to see life in extremes. Fear cannot see the forest for the trees.
It’s only when I luxuriate in stillness (which rarely shows up on mild, unhurried days) that I’m able to contemplate the wins, or moments my past self held as mere manifestations. Some days are golden. And although a large majority have felt bitter, burdened by fear and self-doubt, in this present moment I feel confident in proclaiming the golden days have been pretty damn worth it. Everything balances out for the most part it seems.
~It’s a bit batty how my attempt to write a simple recipe description always leads to self-revelations. A nod to the power of food writing? ~
A Bittersweet Salad
I feel it would be belittling to whoever is reading this to “recipe” to list steps of how to compose such a simple dish. It mainly serves as a suggested combination of delicious things and flavor profiles that happen to taste as lovely together as they look.
“Ingredients”
2 small black plums
1 white nectarine
1 big yellow peach
1 large heirloom tomato
1 head of radicchio, weeping leaves removed
olive oil
vinegar or lemon juice
salt, pepper, spices of some sort
flower petals or fresh herbs
“Directions”
Slice, quarter, or chop any or all of these things in whatever manner you like. Drizzle with olive oil, or maybe you prefer some rich hazelnut oil, or nothing. Add an acid, I like rice vinegar on everything but lemon juice is nice too. Salt generously if you’re like me and can’t go a meal without a flake of Maldon or a heavy sprinkle of something coarse. A pinch will do, but why not season with something fun like a pink peppercorn or marigold petal if it’s at your disposal?
Cheers.
