Adventure #15 -- The Long March to Dinner (with guest adventurer Kasha!)

Adventure - Heather, Kasha, Marty

Description: To take a walk through the park and down Clement St. to collect dinner makings, and then the making of said dinner, thereof.


(Marty's Report):

Well, adventures aren't always easy to come up with. Inspiration, like the breath, comes and goes. And sometimes you have to take your adventure where you find it...like today.

It's not, though, like we didn't try. We sat down after breakfast, with the magic of the Internet at our fingertips, and found nothing happening this weekend more interesting than the Cardboard Tube Fighting Tournament...which was Sunday. Our huge and culturally sophisticated city failed us. Took us up to the heights of expectation, and then dropped us through the clouds of potentiality (read: Internet events postings) to fall flat on the hard empty ground of disappointment. So we defaulted to a walk in the park and shopping.

Now, this is not just any park. This is the Golden GATE Park! Where a zillion tourists from half a zillion countries, various exercise enthusiasts, some roller skaters and Tai Chi practitioners, a group of swing dancers on Sunday, museum goers, and homeless campers go to, well, do what their descriptions describe. Making us, Walkers. And Gabbers. We walked and gabbed, from our house through museum district (where many were going for the triumphant return of the Kind Tut exhibit) and up the hill to Stowe Lake. We rested there, watching the ducks and gulls and Other Walkers. At one point, I took my leave of Heather and Kasha to sit by the pond-side and let them talk about body image girl stuff. Having successfully done that, we commenced walking.

Kasha's just back from 2 1/2 months in Asia, so she's still getting over the fatigue and jet lag. We stopped a couple times to convalesce, though for some reason, Heather was the peppier of the three of us. We had looked at one of cookbooks that have gone neglected for years on the cookbook shelf in the kitchen, and found four recipes to make, apparently in some spastic foodie splurge. Potatoes, bell pepper cheese appetizers, a foot-long green bean stir fry, and rainbow chard salad. Usually my days consist of a mix of banana smoothies, salads, and veggie burgers, all of which take about 2 minutes at most to prepare. So this, I think, counts as a culinary adventure of the first magnitude.

Down from the leafy and rose-encrusted heights of Stowe Lake, we descended to Clement St., passing by my office. Kasha had never seen it, so we stepped in. This picture shows the two of them from my therapist perspective. Heather is apparently mulling over the rich and complex interpretation I just made, and Kasha, having trouble digesting the profundity, distracts herself with the Van Gogh poster. Or perhaps the lint in the air vent.

We rested here a bit, then continued to the new 9th Ave. library, where I picked up a Kem Nunn book (who co-authored John From Cincinnati) and was again amazed at how anti-capitalist this institution is, judging itself by how freely it can give away stuff.

As I said, Heater was full steam ahead at the Chinese markets, while Kasha and I began to droop, as evidenced by the dim gaze and slack facial muscles. A stop at Heather's favorite dim sum place revived us a bit, but we were dragging again by the time we hit home. Heather went off for more supplies at Safeway, and Kasha rested while I did some computer work.

Then the cooking. As I said, I don't usually cook. Not because I don't like prepared food so much as I eat 5-6 times a day usually, and don't want to give it that much time. But it's fun to cook with friends, so we spent the next several hours in a complex improv kitchen ballet, set to the music of Heather's Ipod hip-hop mix. As we cooked, we danced. Heather well, Kasha good, and me, goofy. You can see our end result below (of food, not dancing).

Then we ate. Which always is a bit of a let down, and probably is another reason I don't cook food much. You spend all that time making, and hardly any time eating. A peasant at heart regarding food, the subtleties are largely lost on me. There's a stone floor to my culinary appreciation; "deep cooking" kind of squashes and bottoms out in my house.

Last adventurous thing for the day was Kasha agreeing to watch a "comedy" with me, June Bug, about a man and his new wife going to visit his family in North Carolina. It turned out to be a hard slog through a modern riff on Tennessee Williams territory. We both felt wind-burned by the end of it, and earned our slumbers.


(Kasha's Report):

This is my first guest log with Marty and Heather and I am filled with a buffet of images and senses. The excitement runs through my fingers as I recall the day that began with mist and by the time we sauntered out of the door, the sunlight had chased the silver coldness and gifted us with an aquamarine sky and a brilliance that permeated our steps towards the Golden Gate Park. With the ease born of having known each other over the years, we strolled towards Stow Lake passing the museum complexes bustling with curious onlookers. The plant world and the earth beneath were soothing to me, having had just arrived from the tropics that week. The water was reassuring, reminding the fluids in my body of its likeness.

As we sat on the bench by the lake, I remembered that this was the place were Marty and Heather proposed their intention for marriage to each other and my heart softened even more. In some way, I was being invited into their sacred place. A tender joy danced in me to have this privilege of deep friendship with them, an enfolding into the fabric of their lives, an enfolding of our lives together with all the seasons that maturing brings.

There was a light lamentation that we didn’t bring food for the birds and ducks that reside there. But there were many people who joyfully and dutifully tossed breadcrumbs to the fowl that were only too eager to satisfy their hunger. Many turtles were sunning themselves, emerging from the depths of the lake. How many did we count?

On our way out of the park, we were fascinated by the bobbing of a rodent in and out of its home underground. We couldn’t decide if it was a squirrel, mouse, ground hog or something else? Nonetheless, we played musical steps to find just the right place so we can witness this creature without being in its peripheral vision. Apparently, a couple showed interest as well and the man couldn’t help himself but pass on some oblique commentaries on the medical and mental health system.

Heather was in a shopping mood and had been since yesterday as she cajoled Marty and I to go to Clement Street. This is also known as Asia street as you can find all kinds of Asian restaurants and grocery stores with Asian vegetables and foodstuff. She was full of excitement as we entered one store after another searching for duck eggs, long string beans, shitake mushrooms and other ingredients. Earlier we had chosen several recipes that decadently popped out of the cookbook. As we entered a hole in the wall eatery, we voted to sit down and refuel with egg rolls, lotus bean cakes and other Chinese snacks. With a few more stops along the way, we finally dropped our bags of fresh ingredients in the kitchen and rested before we tackled the recipes that await us. With much gusto, we were transformed into chefs and marveled at the colors of paprika bell peppers stuffed with cheeses and avocado and the sautéed garlic that permeated the air to the freshness of the salad greens. We were satiated with the fullness of food created with much love. We partook of the fullness of each other.


(Heather's Report):

Errr.... we cooked.

Oh, and saw a small gopher type critter (apparently called a "pocket gopher", as I later looked up), which I sat and watched in a fascinated fashion while Marty and Kasha went to the bathroom. Once they came back, we had to, as Kasha said, maneuver around a little bit to hide so that he would stick his head out. He was very cute and I've always wondered how they manage to stay so sleek of fur and... well, clean when doing such dirty jobs as excavating a den. Which is what this little guy was doing, nosing up all that freshly dug dirt onto the grass. I'm imagining this might have been his emergency exit that he was digging but it seemed a little less than smart to be creating it so close to a sidewalk. But in any case, he was cute and came out long enough for Marty to snap a little shot of him.

I don't know why I was so full steam ahead, I'm usually the laggy, complainy one, so I really don't know what was going on there, but off I went, poking and prodding at the others to hurry it up! And I just kept going like the energizer bunny, going out to Safeway for more stuff when they sagged at home. Bah. Lazies!!!

I very much enjoy cooking as a community sort of thing. I mean, a dinner party is one thing, to come together and eat but usually the host is doing all the work. Not only does the cooking get help but it's just fun to cook as a group. As evidenced by the dancing and such. And it's terribly domestic in a commune kind of way. Which I have never experienced. Living in a commune, I mean. But what I imagine it might be. Well, probably idealistically.

And don't listen to Marty about food. Because our efforts were pretty good. He's a complete peasant when it comes to food; give him beans and rice and he'd be happy. Except, if you really only gave him beans and rice, he'd start wanting ice cream and such. So, not COMPLETELY a peasant. But enough that "fanciful" food doesn't usually do anything for him. Whereas, in my family, especially for my father and mother, food, and really good food, is a big deal. I didn't grow up a complete food snob, I'm not a hugely experienced gourmand but I did grow up with some food snobishness in my blood. So I like really good food.

(And so does Marty, he just won't admit it).

Our final result!!!