Thursday, November 7, 2013

May we never hunger



Today is the first normal day I've experienced since Halloween. I am grateful. The Voice in the Shower said straightaway this morning, No ancestor work today. I was down with that idea, oh yeah. Grieving is heinous work! Does it serve a purpose? I keep asking myself. Do you have an opinion? How is grieving useful? Help me out.

While we're at it, why do I suffer so much personal grief for people I didn't know? Obviously, I have a lot of questions. However, today I put them aside and instead went grocery shopping. It's my favorite thing, buying food. I love wandering the aisles, noticing what seems enticing. I look for lively energy fields, bright colors, nice smells. Unless I'm specifically planning to cook for a dinner party or something, I shop by whim rather than from a list. I buy what's good, then figure out what to do with it once I get home.

Given my open-hearted fragility of late, I decided to go ahead and buy whatever I wanted today. If I need to invite people over to share dinner so the food doesn't go bad, then so be it. And anyway I love entertaining. Today I needed comfort. I decided to be generous with myself and just go for it.

OK, I did cringe at the cash register and I walked out of the store with twice as many bags of groceries as usual. My fridge is now cheerfully full of lively food. This is a good thing. I'm going to make an apple/pear spice cake to mostly give away. One dinner this week will be centered around oven sautéed chicken dredged in cornmeal, salt, pepper, and thyme. I will roast winter vegetables and squashes, then spritz them with lemon juice, sprinkle parmesan cheese over them. I have olives and grapes. I have stuff to make salad. I bought kosher pickles made in the Bronx. No matter the grief, I will be well fed.

Here's the funny thing. Inadvertently I bought everything I need to make beef borscht with sour cream, one of my father's favorite meals and probably one of the Melikiers' favorites, too. It's blustery and late fall-like outdoors, hence perfect for a hearty soupy stew. It wasn't until the groceries were out of the bags that I noticed I'd bought beets, leeks, tomatoes, cabbage and big piece of beef. I also bought sour cream, something I never buy. Hmm, I thought. That's borscht.

Me and the Melikiers of Vzsygorodek? Like peas in a pod I tell you. Like peas in a pod.

Shalom.


5 comments:

Pam said...

Some really like cooking and grocery shopping - I have both husband and friends like this and it's beyond my comprehension. When I look at recipes I wish I could just snap my fingers and the ingredients would magically appear on the benchtop.
I'm the person who cheerfully and gratefully appreciates the meal and cleans up happily - My maternal mother and grandmother, both great cooks, were both disappointed in my lack of interest in cooking - it makes entertaining so much more hospitable too, when you enjoy the process.
On grieving. I remember two lines of a poem I once read...
"It is not for you to deal with grief
For grief will deal with you."




Reya Mellicker said...

It is dealing with me, yes. And yes I love to cook. I am a mad scientist in the kitchen. I follow recipes - I can't wing it - but I love the process. It isn't for everyone.

Rebecca Clayton said...

You took the ancestors shopping--that is awesome!

Enjoy the borscht you make together!

Steve Reed said...

You're doing ancestor work without even meaning to!

Buying food is a nesting experience. It offers that same sense of security. (Though I usually hate grocery shopping. That's why I often wind up eating peanut butter when I'm just feeding myself!)

Pam said...

Reya - thanks for visiting! Glad you could see the ancestor altar on the post, knowing that we both always feel their influence.
Reread my comment here, - maternal mother - good one!
Have a lovely weekend!