Stirring the Cauldron

New Moon Newsletters from Jessica Prentice

New Moon of Long Nights

December moondark kitchen notes
from Jessica Prentice

Happy New Moon! We are entering into a new lunar month, one which was called by many farming peoples, "The Moon of Long Nights." It is not hard to guess why: during this next month will be the shortest days and the longest nights of the year. In some parts of the world, dawn will barely have cracked when dusk begins to descend (for example, parts of Alaska, Canada, Scandinavia, and Northernmost Asia). It is eerie just to think about such sunless days. Even those of us at more moderate latitudes are experiencing the shortness of the day and the length of the night. Many of us leave for work in the dark of morning and get home after the sun has gone down again.

I read a book a couple of years ago which I have been thinking about a lot lately. The premise of the book was this: the rise of degenerative diseases here in industrialized countries (especially diabetes, heart disease, and cancer) can be traced to the invention of electricity and its widespread use throughout the industrialized world. The author's line of research and reasoning was that the use of electric lighting, televisions, and computers after the sun goes down (and our consequent ability to stay up later and sleep less) serves to keep our bodies in an artificial state of 'perpetual summer.' This disrupts our natural hormonal functioning and deprives us of a period of semi-hibernation that our pre-agrarian and even many of our agrarian ancestors would have enjoyed: a winter season of long nights and lots of extra sleep.

The author also linked our constant craving for sugars and carbohydrates to our state of perpetual summer. Our ice-age hunter-gatherer ancestors would have had, for the most part, access to sugars and carbohydrates during the summer only, and would have lived on proteins throughout the winter. She claimed that we crave sugar all the time because our bodies think it is summer all the time, and our bodies have evolved to use carbohydrate to store up energy for the long, sugarless winter -- a winter which never comes in our modern, electrically lit world. Or something like that. The argument was very scientific and the book very alarmist (with chapter headings like: "Only the Paranoid Survive.") and I had a hard time following all the biological ins and outs, but I think I understood the basic gist.

After a couple of years of digesting the book, I'm still not sure what I think of it. But it did get me to thinking about a few things. I have long felt that it is an unfortunate (if not purely unintended) reality that just at the time of year when our bodies and souls want rest, sleep, dreamtime, hibernation, and a turning inward and homeward, we are encouraged to be at our busiest: to get out there and 'shop til we drop,' attend office holiday parties, make travel plans, pack up and get on planes, trains, and busses to go to lively celebrations with friends and families. No wonder so many of us get depressed and overwhelmed around the holidays: our biology says, "curl up in the back of the cave and gnaw on a buffalo bone, then sleep for 14 hours," while our society says, "run around shopping in brightly lit stores and then stay out late at a party drinking champagne and eating bonbons and being sociable with your coworkers." Seems like a recipe for confusion and depression to me.

It makes sense to me that a culture like ours, which prizes youth and productivity, rationalism and accomplishment, and which in many ways denies death and magic and mystery and the irrational and unconscious, would seek to keep itself in a state of perpetual summer. We certainly have the means to keep it light and warm in our houses all year round. Work hours don't get cut so that we can sleep for 14 hours a night. We are, in many ways, cut off from the darkness and coldness of this deep of winter time.

Nevertheless, the realities of the Moon of Long Nights are around us if we look for them. If we go to the farmers' markets, the light-loving, warmth-loving plants are ending their wonderful run. Eggplants are gone; cucumbers and peppers lasted unusually long here in the Bay Area due to the warm autumn, but they too are finishing; a few tomatoes lasted this long, but it is time to bid them farewell until next summer... On their way in are the cooler weather crops like cabbages and winter greens.

Cabbages and winter greens of all kinds are among my very favorite foods. I love cabbage sauteed (with a sprinkling of seasalt and caraway seeds) until it starts to caramelize; I love it braised with potatoes and sausages and topped with sour cream (try my recipe); I love it as sauerkraut, which I started making this year with the first savoy cabbages I saw in the farmers' markets -- which turned out delicious despite warnings that this thin-leaved variety wasn't the best for culturing. I now have some kraut in my fridge made from half purple and half green cabbage, which someone told me would turn out blue but even after 2 weeks of aging is a bright fuschia. This is a color I associate with real Latin American cuisine, and so I tossed some with a bit of dried oregano for a kind of cortido (Latino sauerkraut) and served it with enchiladas and rice.

The best thing that ever happened to my winter greens was a splash of fish sauce (yes the kind you may have bought once for a thai curry, which still sits in the back of your cupboard). Also called Nuoc Mam (Vietnamese), Nam Plah (Thai), and Patis (Filipino), this is the seasoning hearty winter greens have been waiting for. I slice kale or collards into thin strips, place them in a bowl of water to get the dirt off, and then lift them by dripping handfuls into a hot saute pan with olive oil or butter melting on the bottom. Then I stir a few minutes til they begin to wilt, and then squirt some fish sauce in the pan, (a sprinkle of salt or a grind of pepper is optional), stir again and cover, cooking til they are nicely wilted, savory and delicious.

When I served these greens a few weeks ago, someone claimed, "you even managed to make kale taste good!" -- another greens-hater converted...

I know it's hard, but I do think it's worth the effort to be especially careful about all the sugar that's around this time of year. Sometimes I feel very lucky to not have been born with much of a sweet tooth, so I'm not really tempted to gorge on sweets. I have, instead, a 'savory tooth' -- I love all rich and salty things, from french fries to chicken soup, and like my breads and biscuits herby and cheesy rather than sugary and fruity. I don't worry too much about my savory tooth when it comes to it, believing most rich and savory foods to be much healthier than the sugared ones, as long as they're not too full of white flour or fried in damaged fats... Plus, they don't keep me up at night on a sugar high. Though I must admit that I do love a homemade chocolate chip cookie around the holidays!

For all my talk about hibernation, rest, and sleep at this time of year, I know it is much easier said than done. I, for one, took a new full-time job a few weeks ago, and for the first time in my life find myself commuting to a real office during the week, like so many of my fellow urbanites. I now work as the Education Programs Director at the Center for Urban Education about Sustainable Agriculture (CUESA). For those of you in the Bay Area, CUESA is the non-profit organization that runs the large Ferry Plaza Farmers Market on Saturday mornings. The market is going to be moving in March to the newly renovated Ferry Building at the base of Market Street, on the Embarcadero, right on the Bay. It is my job to make sure that shoppers have the opportunity to learn more about sustainable agriculture and foodsystems issues while they're picking up their local produce. I will also be organizing and conducting farm-tours, classes and other opportunities to learn about the Bay Area foodshed and related issues.

For more information, check out the CUESA website at www.cuesa.org. Among other things, CUESA sends out an e-letter a few times a month that lets readers know what is fresh and available at the farmers' market. It is a wonderful resource -- and one I wish I had known about years ago. It would have saved me lots of guess work!

If you are interested in getting the CUESA e-letter, or the quarterly print newsletter, or in getting on a mailing list for farm tours or other programs, email me at my new work email, or stop by the CUESA booth at the farmers' market on Saturday mornings. I won't be there this Saturday (I have a catering job left over from my former life!) but will be there most every other Saturday.

This lifestyle change puts me in an interesting position. For years I've been espousing the glories of home-cooking and shopping at farmers markets, and have also had the luxury of those things being part of my work. Now, aside from Saturdays when I'll have the opportunity to shop and work at the same time, I'm going to be a regular 9-to-5 working person like so many others, and it will be interesting to see how I'm able to 'walk-the-walk' of keeping home-cooked food on the table while holding down a full-time job! I'm actually looking forward to this challenge and I'm sure it will help me develop realistic strategies for cooking and eating well in this workaholic country.

Which brings me back full circle to the Moon of Long Nights...

Although I didn't move into a cave or go 'off the grid' after reading that book (which was called Lights Out: Sleep, Sugar, and Survival and was written by T.S. Wiley), I did make some subtle shifts in my daily life.

I try now to eat more protein during the winter. Now that I'm working full-time, I look for meals that are nourishing and easy and fast to prepare after getting home after dark from a long day's work. One of my recent favorites is an easy-to-make soup called Stracciatella, or Roman Egg-drop Soup. I make it from chicken stock I have made over the weekend and have sitting in jars in the fridge. A recipe follows this letter.

I also try to turn out the lights earlier in the evening -- during the wintertime especially -- and light candles if possible. I try to go to bed earlier, and to let myself, whenever possible, sleep nine or more hours a night. I seem to notice that I am dreaming more -- both my partner and I have commented recently on the striking vividness of our dreams. I try to absorb the darkness more -- let the darkness be rather than try to banish it. Doing so helps me to appreciate the light.

I remember being a teenager and sitting in the living room at this time of year in the semi-darkness, just gazing at the colored lights on the Christmas tree. They seemed to invoke all the magic and mystery of the season. For me, this moon is about being in the darkness, and awaiting the light. That the light comes again, year after year, is truly a mystery and a miracle. Whatever your religious beliefs, on some level this time leading up to the winter solstice is about that: being in darkness and awaiting the light.

Wishing you a Happy Long-Night Moon and a restful, dreamful holiday season...

PS. Please send me an email if you would like to be added to my mailing list!

PPS. Here's a gift idea that requires no shopping: If you'd like to give printed-out copies of Stirring the Cauldron, I've got printable versions of each one that you can print out on your own computer. Each one is formatted without email headers, in a special font, with a simple image related to the theme of the newsletter. If you'd like to give the whole year's worth in one collection, I've got a 'table of contents' and a cover page (if you've got a color printer) that has a big image of a cauldron and is called: Stirring the Cauldron 2002: A Food Year in Moons (click to download). For a list of all the moons from the past year, just click.

Stracciatella

(Roman Egg-drop Soup, or: quick after-work, get-to-bed early, plenty-of-protein soup)

• 2 cups or so chicken broth
• a leaf or two of swiss chard, spinach or other leafy green
• an egg
• good parmesan cheese
• sea salt or fish sauce
• black pepper
• nutmeg

Bring chicken broth to a boil in a small pan. Season with fish sauce or salt to taste. Chop chard leaf finely and add to boiling broth.

Grate parmesan on the finest grater you have (it's best to get it as close to 'powder' as possible) until you have about a tablespoon, or use pre-grated parmesan if you have that around. In a bowl, whisk the egg together with the parmesan cheese. Beat the soup with the whisk while you pour in the egg mixture in a thin stream. The egg should cook immediately. Pour the soup into the bowl, grind some black pepper on top, grate some nutmeg on top, and eat. Accompany with generously buttered good sourdough bread if you have it.

Serves 1 tired working stiff.