Stirring the Cauldron

New Moon Newsletters from Jessica Prentice

New Hunger Moon

February moondark kitchen notes
from Jessica Prentice

Happy New Moon! It is also the beginning of the New Year in the Chinese (lunar) calendar, the Year of the Goat (or Ram, or Black Sheep). In many Native American and Colonial American calendars, this next lunar cycle was called the Hunger Moon.

In addition to the newness of the moon, Stirring the Cauldron has the advantage of some new technology -- new software for my mailing list and an all-new website! Many thanks to webster Sienna M Potts for totally revamping Cauldron.WiseFoodWays.com -- please check it out. All the newsletters are there, as well as recipes and other writings. I'd love your feedback. Many thanks as well to Erik Thiese, who is hosting the site and is managing my list with software that will enable me to send "Stirring the Cauldron" just once instead of copying and pasting and sending many times over, as I have been doing for the past year.

The Hunger Moon reminds us that we are still in the deep dark of winter, when once upon a time food was scarce. I must admit that it does feel like we are in a time of darkness. War looms, and seven people lost their lives today in the shuttle explosion: a potent reminder of the fallibility of science and technology. And although there isn't much physical hunger in America today -- there IS a great deal of hunger elsewhere, including Iraq. Washington Physicians for Social Responsibility state:

This situation is expected to get much worse if we go to war. The president of Stop Hunger Now, Ray Buchanan recently took a tour of Iraq to assess the humanitarian situation. According to the Stop Hunger Now website, Buchanan is adamantly opposed to a U.S. invasion of Iraq. "The population will suffer the most in case of war," states Buchanan. "In the event of invasion, 80% of the Iraqi population will be at risk of malnutrition and hunger; this has to be avoided at all costs," he adds.

Of all the protests going on against the war, the one I find most compelling is one circulating through email recently. If you haven't already received it, read below:

I don't know if this story is true or not, but I find it very moving. I'm going to send my rice monday morning. I don't know if President Bush will listen to bags of rice, or to the Bible, but it is worth a try.

While Iraqis and others throughout the world are hungry for food, we have our own form of hunger running rampant in the U.S. Our hunger comes not from a lack of food, but from a profound lack of food that is authentic and nourishing, nutritious and sacred. Food grown in infertile soil... food raised in crowded feedlots or factories... food from toxic waters... food shipped long distances... food that is highly processed and packaged... This is the food we find in our grocery stores and at our restaurants. Although this may seem petty in comparison to chronic physical hunger, I don't think it is. To me, it is a tragedy in its own right.

Others are hungry, but we are hungry, too. We are deeply hungry for a sense of connection -- to the earth, to each other, to those who grow our food and those who prepare it. We long to live in right relation to the world, but find it very difficult to do so.

These are not unrelated problems -- hunger in Iraq and another kind of hunger in America -- because both stem from a centralized, de-humanized, commodified, and globalized system of food production and distribution, and the complete breakdown of local, sustainable foodsystems. This is the system that requires huge amounts of fuel for shipping food all over the world, the system that creates conditions wherein peasants grow cash crops like sugarcane and coffee rather than food crops for their communities, the system that leads to the cutting of the rainforests, the system that has spawned an alarming rate of diabetes, obesity, and cancer here in America. All this weighs heavily upon us, whether or not we choose to look at it.

I heard a speech this week that delineated the difference between optimism and hope, claiming that "optimism" is the sense that everything is going to turn out okay, but "hope" is the ability to believe or to trust, even in a time of great darkness or despair. The speaker proclaimed that while he was not optimistic, he did have hope. I feel the same way.

At this dark of the Hunger Moon, I send out a prayer for peace. And I also send out a recipe for Timman, Iraqi-style rice. Maybe if we each make it, in our own homes, we will remember our shared humanity, our shared challenges, and honor each other's hungers.

Timman (Iraqi-style rice)

• 1 c Jasmine or Basmati rice
• 2 c Water
• 2 tb Olive oil

Wash rice in cool water and drain.

In a large pot, put in rice with water, bring to boil and cook for 6 minutes. Test by biting a grain of rice: The outside should be soft but the inside still hard.

Transfer rice to a sieve and rinse. Add oil to the pot and put wet rice back in. Place a kitchen towel over the pot and replace the lid. Cook on low heat for 45-55 minutes, or until fluffy.

At the bottom of the pot a crunchy layer will form that is said to be the best part.

Makes 2-3 servings