Just Taste the Parsley

This is one of those stories intended to inspire you to see the world in a new way.   ... It probably won't work.

When I was a lil kid being raised in a small, Judeo-Christian community as a Roman Catholic, the Lenten season held a special bonus.  Amidst the fasting and giving up fun things like chocolate or TV (with the hopes of being handsomely rewarded by our parents come Easter morning), there was a beacon of awesome hope - the ritual Seder Meal.  There is a lot of deep symbolism in the reenactment of the Passover dinner.  As a child, however, much of the religious meaning was lost to me.  What I found fascinating was the sense of community.

It went down like this - the best baker in the town made matzo; a delightful Irish-born woman brought the most amazing cooked lamb; a guy who was renowned for his gardening prowess brought fresh parsley; and everyone else contributed with pot-luck dinner items and other symbolic necessities.  Fifty to one hundred of us would gather in the tiny, cold, dimly-lit basement of our parish center, huddled together with small glasses of wine (grape juice for we little ones) and meager portions on our plates.  We held scripts in our hands, and our parish priest led a mini-play.  There was this indescribable spirit of adventure in the room - for us kids, we were basically eating foreign food (Unleavened bread and weird leafy greens? People actually eat those things?!).  After the entire ceremony was done and we had lingered in meditative silence, we would bust out the real food and go to town devouring the rest of that delicious lamb.  Good times.

I remember one specific event, though.  It was the very first Seder we had ever planned; I was about six.  The other kids were looking over the bits on our plate - horseradish, parsley, matzo, romaine, egg...

"Hey? What's this green stuff?!" I asked an adult while prodding at my sprig of parsley.

She explained, "Parsley.  It's an herb.  It is bitter tasting.  We dip it in salt water to remind us...blah, blah, blah... but when it comes time, if you kids don't want to eat that part, you don't have to.  I don't blame you either - parsley tastes awful."

In essence, an adult just told me, a child, 'this food is yucky - I don't like it; you won't either.  Here's a "get-out-of-trying-something-new" card.'

But, defiant as I was, I tried the damn parsley anyway.  And as a kid, I did think it tasted awful.  But I ate the whole sprig.  Mostly because someone told me I wouldn't like it.

It changed my life.  As an adult, I love herbs.  All herbs.  They have my utmost respect for everything they do, and everything they stand for.  One particular herb that I hold dear is the parsley.  It still tastes the same as when I tried it that first time as a kid - but I appreciate it more.  And every time I taste it, it takes me back to those memories of the Seder Meal, of all of us neighbors working together and getting along.  We weren't jealous of each other, or scolding each others' children.  It was a glorious festival being held in the middle of what felt like an ongoing 40-day-funeral.

All memories that may have been lost to the abyss of time if I hadn't decided to just taste the parsley.

Say Cheese!

~~ Photographs Coming Soon! ~~

This last weekend's adventure was a brief soiree into the art of cheesemaking.  Nothing fancy - yet.  But I had a bunch of kefir that I needed to do something productive with, and I've got plans for whey, so cheese fit the bill.

Step 1: Take quart of kefir from fridge and set out to warm to room temp.

Step 2: Line colander with butter muslin and pour kefir in.  Put bowl under colander to catch whey.  Whey will need to be used within about 3 hours, so don't leave it out too long!

Step 3: Add cheese salt if you wish.  It will help draw out some of the moisture and will add some flavor to your cheese.

Step 4: After a few hours, tie corners of cloth together and hang to drip for 16 hours, or until it is the consistency you want.

Step 5: Mix in any herbs or flavorings you desire.  Eat or refrigerate.

Adventure

Ordered kefir grains from www.culturesforhealth.com.  They came last Wednesday, and I began rejuvenating them immediately.  Now (Sunday evening), I have my first batch of real kefir.  It's good stuff.

If you're out of the loop, let me fill you in: kefir is fermented milk.  Sounds gross?! Yes, at first.  This drink is basically liquid yogurt.  You buy "grains" that have been freeze-dried.  You put them in a cup of milk on the counter in your kitchen - the little bacteria and yeasts that make up the "grains" feast on the lactose in the milk, breaking it down.  You change out the milk periodically for fresh milk so that the bacteria have more deliciousness to eat and don't starve.  Once they've fully awakened from their hibernated state, you get some properly fermented milk - a.k.a kefir.

The kefir tastes like plain yogurt - tangy, a bit sour (almost like buttermilk), and slightly effervescent.  It can be used in recipes, drank plain or with flavors added, and can be made into cheese.  It is loaded with healthy live bacteria cultures (the same way yogurt is) that can help boost your immunity and can help with "gut health".

And you just keep a-brewin'.  Making cup after cup.  Easy-peasy.

Except mine wasn't so easy to begin with - variances in room temperature can change your fermentation times.  Mine was fermenting too fast, leaving me with curds and whey in my mason jar.  So rather than simply straining the old milk through cheesecloth and putting the tiny little grains (and yes, some of them are smaller than rice to begin with) back into the jar, I was having to comb through a bowl of cottage cheese to find my minuscule grains.  It would take 45 minutes to complete each milk change.  But then I got smart and reduced my culturing time from 24 hours to 12, and things moved along more smoothly after that.

Live and learn.