THE TASTE OF HURRY

• food list     here's what I ate Ash Wednesday, and my reflection on it.
• BREAKFAST: 2 muffins I made.I attempted to substitute hawthorn berries for cranberries in a whole-wheat cran-orange recipe. Banana w/ peanut butter.
• LUNCH: Wednesday Lunch de---liciousness at the Divinity School. Cheesy-tomato grits, crusty whole-wheat sourdough, corn-lima bean-pea mix, and  coffee chocolate cupcakes with chicory frosting.    
• DINNER: white-brown rice with wayyyy salty teriyaki sauce, mixed with fried tofu, peas, and broccoli. dark chocolate and an old kit-kat. 

• origin of one thing: Mountain Hawthorn berry, from China. flat and bright red (think the strawberries in Special K cereal) I thought these would be a good substitute for any type of dried fruit when I spotted them in a Chinatown supermarket. However, they are super tart, and are supposed to be soaked to make tea, according to the rough English on the bag. Thus I had to soak them in honey water to make them somewhat edible. Wikipedia says they are also used for jams, wine, etc. 

• ethical/theological implications :   I read this article in the New York Times called Food for Thought. It talked about eating with mindfulness. Which translated into eating with nothing at all. No books, computers, TV, or conversations. Just the quiet and your meal. So in preparation for my blog, I decided to try this over breakfast. I had one of my muffins with the Hawthorne berries. In eating it, it wasn't that great. The berries were still too tart, and they were way too chewy. I'd had eaten them before. But this time, I had two observations. 
• 1st observation: I could taste the overly-chewy nature, but I also re-felt my over-kneading. The pull, the stickiness of the dough--the feeling in my mouth was the same pull and fibrous quality I had felt in my hands. I could experience one physical sensation with my mouth and my hands. They were doing the same thing, pulling apart the wheat. It was weird! 
• 2nd observation: I almost ate a seed. Hawthorne berries have two seeds, about like orange seeds, in their middle. Because I was making these muffins in a hurry, and just trying to soak, sweeten, and de-seed the berries all at once, some made it into the batter. I thought, boy its a good thing I'm eating slow! Otherwise I'd have a pretty gross seed taste in my mouth and a sore tooth.  This way, I felt the seed in plenty of time to spit it out without chomping down. 

What I was granted in this spiritual practice of mindful eating was not eating a seed. And thank God for that! But I also found a bit of redemption in my previous hurry. I could taste my overworking of the dough, and my careless pitting of the berries. But by slowing down, I was able to not feel the full consequences of this. I could better taste the orange. I allowed the wheat to break down a little more by chewing lots. I was able to reflect on my previous rushing around the kitchen. What on earth was I doing, running around? How unfun the whole process became, and the muffins definitely reflected my state of mind by coming out tasting so rushed. Slowing down helped me redeem that mindlessness a little. I avoided the harsh surprise of eating a seed, and I was able to re-experience the making process by tasting my over-zealous kneading. What else might we avoid by slowing down? How else will we be redeemed from our carelessness by practicing mindful eating? Hard to say, but the results are likely to be surprising--even weird.