Stirring the Cauldron

New Moon Newsletters from Jessica Prentice

New Sap Moon

March moondark kitchen notes
from Jessica Prentice

Happy New Moon! The moon is new this evening (March 13: 6:04pm on the West Coast; 9:04pm on the East), and this next lunar cycle was called the Sap Moon in old farmer's almanacs, because it is the time of year to draw the sap from the maple trees for syrup making. What a lovely thing to contemplate: huge cauldrons of maple sap boiling over a fire, being stirred occasionally with a huge spoon, evaporating down slowly into thick, sweet syrup. A few times I have noticed huge cauldrons among collections of old stuff, asked what they were used for, and been told: maple syrup. Sounds like this might be a good time to make some homemade pancakes or waffles. Another great foil for maple syrup: polenta! Make it with half milk and half water and just a pinch of salt, and top with butter and maple syrup. Delicious!

The New Moon is the perfect time of month for new beginnings: time to finally begin something you've been putting off, to recommit yourself to something that has lapsed, to sow seeds, to make wishes. I read an astrology book recently that recommended sitting down within 8 hours if possible (or a day or two) of the New Moon and making a wish list, written out long-hand, of up to ten things you wish for in your life. Because this New Sap Moon is in Pisces, wishes having to do with spiritual healing, imagination, compassion, and mystic awareness are particularly potent to make tonight or tomorrow... I have just enough imagination to entertain the possibility that it might be true, and will sit down and make a list! I figure it can't hurt...

This past month has been full of lots of good cooking. I prepared all the meals for a four-day retreat for professionals who work in fields related to sustainable agriculture and the environment, and I don't think I have ever cooked for a more appreciative group. I had time to talk about each meal and its ingredients, the farms that grew the vegetables, the ranches that raised the cows, goats, and chickens for the cheese, meat and eggs. I got to live out my fantasy of preparing food that is seasonal, local, and grown by people who see themselves as stewards of the earth, and offered to a group of people passionate about these same things -- what a joy! We even embedded food preparation in the retreat agenda, and participants made homemade tamales from fresh masa, beans and meat, wrapped them with corn husks and tied them into little packages, which we steamed. The group also used a mortar and pestle and a hand-cranked grinder to crack whole grains for cereal -- oats, barley, kamut, flax seed, amaranth, and dried heirloom corn from the garden there. Then I cooked it into a porridge for breakfast the next morning, and we all felt we had never tasted anything so wonderful!!!

In my own kitchen I finally made shchi, that classic Russian soup mentioned in the last newsletter. I hadn't ever been drawn to it before, and figured there might be a reason one rarely sees it mentioned in the U.S, other than the funny name of course. It is made with cabbage, porcini mushrooms, tomatoes, beef stock, and sauerkraut, and sounded like quite an odd hodgepodge of ingredients to me. But something doesn't become the national food of a country as huge as Russia for nothing, and I decided to give it a try. It was truly delicious, wonderfully warming, and I'll definitely cook up another cauldron-full next winter. (It can be made vegetarian, with mushroom stock instead of the beef.)

While at the Farmer's Market last week, I noticed the oyster monger momentarily alone, and decided it was time to get over my phobia of oysters. Anyone who's ever had the word 'chef' printed under her name on a business card should know how to open an oyster. I asked him to show me how it is done, and he did it so easily and deftly that I was inspired to buy a half-dozen and took them home. He recommended using an oyster knife, but said a screwdriver would work as well. Once at home, I studied the clamped-shut shells doubtfully. I scratched at the thing with a screwdriver to no avail, and then finally tried a letter opener, but managed only to stab my own hand, even drawing a little blood. I moved on to a butter knife, and then a regular knife, and then even a steak knife, but seemed to do no more than scrape away pieces of shell. My two dogs sat patiently by my side all the while, sniffing hopefully. Finally I tried a vegetable peeler with a thin tip, and did manage to wedge this in between the two halves of the shell. A few minutes later I was gingerly prying the thing open, and a few minutes after that I was swallowing the briny body. I got a little faster with each one, and the last little oyster went to the dogs, who hadn't made fun of my fumblings at all.

Well, we are approaching the Spring Equinox (on Wednesday) and the farmer's markets are full of asparagus and the spring crop of artichokes. These are among my favorite vegetables and I just can't get enough of them...

I'm plugging along on my book proposal, when I can find time in between cooking! I hope that by the next new moon I have it done!!! (That's definitely going on the wish list...)