I Could Never Be a Vegetarian

I distinctly remember
As a teenager
Eating a chicken leg
Actually gnawing on the gristle
And declaring to my vegetarian step-mum
"I could NEVER be a vegetarian.
I LOVE meat!"
Nom nom nom.

And then
When I was twenty-something
I got sick
Really sick
I was sick for a year
I had everything
Laryngitis
Bronchitis
Influenza
I got sick of being sick
I did a bit of research
And decided what was making me ill
Was my diet

I cut out meat
And boosted my intake
Of fresh leafy greens
Became friends with farmers' markets
And devoured
All colours of the rainbow
In fruit and vegetable form

I did it slowly over time
To get used to new flavours
New ways of cooking
And you know what?
I stopped getting sick
I started appreciating
Food
I learnt how to cook
With what was available
And seasonal and fresh

If you had told my teenage self
That one night
For fun
I would whip together
Raw courgette and carrot noodles
With a red pepper and pine nut sauce
And meatless eggplant balls
Because those were what she had in the fridge
She would have laughed
And said
"GROSS! Where's the MEAT?!
That meal has NOTHING in it!"

But my present-day-self
Offers thanks
To the farmers who grew all the veggies
The people that delivered them
And the recipes that inspired their ultimate
Delicious consumption

The end.

Into the Wild

Tucked away in
The brightly coloured
Hippy quarter of
Covent Garden
Known as
Neal's Yard
Is the wonderful
Wild Food Cafe

They make fabulous food
And sinful smoothies
And it's all
"Healthy"
Full of vitality
And nutrients
And goodness

Today I had a "raw Shepherd's pie"
Which sounds ridiculous
And gross
But it was utterly
Amazing
Finely chopped olives and carrots and peas
With bright orange pumpkin on top
The flavour explosion was
Out of this world

They call their
Chocolate smoothies
With raw cacao and aloe vera and cinnamon
"Ecstasy"
They're not far from the truth

The staff are friendly
The food is amazing
And every time I go there
I feel better
About life

The end.

I'm Still Here

I quit Facebook
And people actually panicked
Lu! Where are you going? 
How will we know what's going on?
WHAT'S WRONG?! 

I'm living life
Further away from my computer
As best I can in this digital age
I'm cooking
Running
Exploring London
Seeing friends
Connecting with people
Reading more books

I've made
Raw zucchini pasta
And pumpkin pie
The FLAVOURS!
I've made cauliflower cous cous
(The cauliflower IS the cous cous
It's amazing!
Have you tried it?
Cinnamon and cauliflower and olive oil
Make the most delicious combination!)
I've made beet and apple and carrot salad
And spent an hour
Cracking nuts
And developing an understanding
Of the true meaning of
"A tough nut to crack"

I've been miserable
And happy
And frustrated
And inspired
And as Eckhart Tolle has guided
I've been here
To witness it all
I just have to remember
I'm still here

The end.

On the Road Again

Far out, I love traveling!

I love packing my bags

I love the heartache of saying goodbye to somewhere that’s become familiar

I love getting to the airport and the thrill of all the possibilities

I love checking in

I love watching my bright blue backpack being tagged and sent off to the bowels of the airport where people unseen will make sure it goes to where I’m going

The logistics of it all boggle my mind

I even love going through security

The quiet patience of people waiting in line

To be checked by other people

To make sure that the waiting people

Don’t hurt countless other people

The strange routine of it

Imagine if someone were looking in from outer space

What would they say?! 

I love getting through security and seeing the departures board

And all those destinations

And the way you have to search for the flight that is yours

I love living in Europe

I love that last weekend I was in Geneva

Eating local organic fish

Because the restaurant didn’t have a single vegetarian option

Because in many parts of Europe, being vegetarian just doesn’t exist

You’re vegetarian? Ah! I make you lamb. 

It’s actually true! 

And the thrill of looking out across Lake Leman (not Lake Geneva, the French get cranky)

And seeing Mont Blanc

Rising impossibly like some kind of cloud

Perpetually white

Perpetually beautiful and tall and majestic and all the cliches a mountain should be

And the weekend before that I was in Bath, England!

And walking around the ancient streets with a man dressed in 18th century garb

Showing us where Captain Philip resided (and fell out of a window and died)

And standing at the said Captain’s front door and thinking

Because this man once sailed far away

Because god and country

Because colonies and history

I am an Australian/Spaniard whose ancestors traveled from Poland and the Philippines and Spain and China standing outside an Englishman’s front door in Bath.

It is ridiculous. It is wonderful. It is life. 

And there are friends and family 

Scattered all over this globe

And you think no matter how often you travel

How many places you tick off the destination list

You will never quite manage to see them all even just once

And the excitement of going someplace new

To see things you’ve never seen before

And try foods you didn’t even know existed

(Until last week I had never heard of raclette, and now it’s a firm favorite! The Swiss and their delicious amazing cheeses! Until the week before I had never been to Stonehenge or seen the Roman Baths in Bath! The overwhelming delicious ancient history of it) 

To breathe air that is new and different 

To be a person whose life occupation is discovering the world

To look out at it in wonder

And sometimes be frightened by it

And sometimes be in love with it

And sometimes just be amazed that you’re here

And that you get to see it

The thrill rush joy of it.

The end.

Don't Judge a Soup

Vegetable soup simmers away in the pot and smells delicious and fills the kitchen with warmth and heartyness on a chilly autumn afternoon where the sky is dark and threatens rain. And the soup is ready and it’s pulverised to make it soupy but the vegetables within include two purple carrots and they make the whole soup turn dark purple and look entirely un-appetising. It looks like schlop. You think of Oliver and his bowlful of gruel. And you take a deep breath and try a little sip of that sickly looking soup, and you are pleasantly delighted to find it is delicious! And you mix in a spoonful of goat’s cheese and it melts into the purple and the whole thing becomes a lighter purple and it looks slightly more appetising. But who cares what it looks like. You are feeding yourself and are accountable to no one. It is fairytale soup. It may look a little ugly. But it’s contents are full of goodness. And by eating it you just may turn into a swan who loves to play in the rain that is surely about to come. The end. 

Sunday Night

Happiness is coming home on a Sunday night after a long week of work and rehearsals and teaching and being able to chat to your family on the phone and throw together a pot of potato and leek soup and have a vegetable quiche slowly cooking in the oven, ready for lunches and dinners for the following week. It's slicing up a loaf of fresh sourdough bread from the markets, ready for toasts and sandwiches. It's having Adam Hills and Co. playing in the background, making you laugh as you chop spring onions and leeks and peel potatoes and throw diced pumpkin into a pot of boiling water to soften the flesh. It's finding a double yoke in the last egg. It's going to group meditation and feeling the love and being surrounded by oodles of positive energy. It's listening to podcasts on the train on the way home. It's wearing gumboots in the rain. It's the kindness and support of your friends. It's watching a musical with scripts in hands and being so close to the actors you can literally reach out and touch them. It's the magic of being able to watch productions of shows thousands of miles away on your laptop. It's about taking pause amidst the hustle and smiling and saying wow. I live a life enchanted. And it is magical. And you lick leek and potato soup off the wooden spoon and know you've done good. The end. 

You Don't Win Friends with Salad

Homer Simpson once said, "You don't win friends with salad." Well, actually you do. Because this week, salads, and variations thereof, have become some of my best friends. Rainbow chard and basil, grated carrot, beetroot, and ginger, roughly chopped tomatoes, goat's curd with olive rind, fresh corn on the cob, cold roasted potatoes, all drizzled with balsamic and olive oil, a sprinkle of black pepper and a pinch of salt.  Oh my. The flavour explosions of joy. Filling refreshing, and so damn tasty. It's hard to believe I was once rather adverse to the idea of being a vegetarian. But fresh salads made from locally grown organic ingredients, and purchased from the markets where I have a community of friends who like me love the idea of fresh greens, I believe dear Homer, that I have won.