A process meditation

Like many cooks— I cast kitchen spells.

Many spiritual workings take root a the hearth, over the stove, and in conversation with ancestors who speak, or otherwise gesture to the one engaged in tending the pots at the exact moment there’s enough seasoning.

The following writing meditation was inspired by my own intuitive process in a series of timeline hopping serendipities: acquisition, intention, and actulization— all alchemized into nourishment.

This feels like a perfect initial offering in a space I’m dedicating to sharing my writing.

Bless all the hands that prepare the foods— and till the land, and every mouth (and spirit therein) that’s fed. May we all be so!

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Every day I walk past a working altar that lives on two shelves at the center of my kitchen. Laden with a rotating mélange of items, many tranformation process of this lifetime and the next are held here.

I take stock— taking down some of accumulations of the last year and encounter many items pertaining to my cooking practice:

Matches, molasses, big paper bags of anise hyssop I plan to incoporate regularly into spiritual baths, spices, bay leaves, drying tobacco, and packs of seeds saved from last years garden, when:

“How long yall been up here?” The last time I partook in your firm flesh, the weather was warm. I remember sweat sliding down my nose, and steaming up my glasses. But perhaps it was just the first of the warmer days— I want to recall that temporality because there was no smell of rot in Chinatown that accompanies the lifecycle of fresh foods, fish, and garbage after a day of hot sun in center city. Scents of cooking oil, cigarette smoke, and the beginning decompositions—.

We were drawn to the roasted duck hanging in the window, the same way I was drawn to you: scarlet runner beans! Because of your unique appearance.

Stunning in hue— you were something I’d never seen before— but I wasn’t drawn to you through a lens of leering exociticism, rather intrigue, and familiarity. These are the shape, and size of the butter beans I came up on, but varying in shades of deep dusky purple, speckled like pinto beans .

I love and trusted friends enough that I saved bones nibbled clean from a platter of shared of roasted duck, fluffy bao buns, and cold pulled noodles. Simmered in a pot with fresh water, plenty of salt, and aromatics: a dank, and smokey roasted duck broth emerged.

I moved the first time prepare my scarlet runner beans reading the instruction on the package— noting that a pre-soak was not required according to the cooking instrucitons. Feeling that I know as much about cooking dry beans as any package directions, I completed my customary night before pre-soak with a pinch of baking soda to tenderize and neutralize some of the compounds that create gas (although I’ve also read a presoak with a knob of ginger can achieve the same thing as baking soda).

At the axis of my judgy, and ritualistic nature, I’ve wondered aloud sometimes “who the hell can’t remember to soak they beans the night before” In response to content from folks online who ‘never pre-plan wanting to use dried beans in the first place. I’d read about folks freezing pre-soaked beans, or even the ultimate power move of throwing them in the instant pot— hoping you nailed the settings to keep your pot from going to mush.

cooking them today. 

I uncovered the Scarlett runner beans and today in my cleansing, and they were sitting on the counter in the midst of our meal prep-Monday…I felt an in lining it was time to prepare them. Not to wait for a better timed moment. I abandoned momentarily the convenience of my predisposition to pre-plan, and desire to use canned beans for a quick dinner… and now in writing am contemplating the wisdom in just getting started sometimes. At moving into a process quickly. Too quick to be weighed down.

Even as the process takes the time that it takes…and take time it did

I soaked them briefly in boiling water and baking soda. They probably hit the pan at 8pm on the dot—by the time we began closing down the kitchen at 11:30pm, they were still cooking away on the stove. I added water several times and the flavor was deep and smoky— the cumin id added seems to have been lost in the cooking process…but they were still delicious.

I wondered about the timing of adding certain notes of seasoning to ensure the flavor can really come through 

With certain undertakings now in my life, it’s just time.