Do you know a word that makes me groan? Chill. It isn't the case that I hate it, but hearing it being used sends me into a rolling cycle of guilt and indignancy. Because, my dear reader, I am wholeheartedly not a chill kind of person. On my left shoulder, there's a bleach-blonde surfer dude telling me that I should be better at going with the flow (he's also telling me that I should chill). On the right, a tightly laced-up and held together guy in a tailored business suit is imploring me not to listen, that I've spent a long-time trying to be more easygoing and that it just isn't me. I think it's safe to say that I struggle to find the midpoint between these two extremists weighing down my joints.
This lack o'chill seems to manifest itself most cogently in the way I spend my time (as evidenced by my Wednesday travails). I tend to operate most comfortably if I know how my day is going to go, or if I have an idea of what I'm going to do that day. There's not much that seems unhealthy about that on the surface, but it renders me unable generally to respond to my mood in terms of what I want to do. I want to have something in place, lest I trigger a sense of distrust in my own ability to use time in a way that I won't regret. So, while I'd wager a weekend composed primarily of open-ended free time would be a source of calm to most people, it's quite an anxiety-provoking prospect for me.
This weekend, however, I found myself taking back Sunday (totally unaffiliated with the pop-punk band of course). The day prior had been full of headache-thwarted riverside walks, unexpected social discomfort and a pleasantly involving game of zombie-themed dungeons & dragons; understandably, Sunday needed to be the counterpoint to this. I'd had some notions of trying to make a cauliflower-based Kung Pao "Chicken", but a last-minute bout of financial trepidation put paid to those plans, leaving the day wide open once again (the Kung Pao Cauliflower will put in an appearance one day, however!)
There's something grounding about breakfast; although I am enamoured with breakfast food (primarily, but not exclusively toast) just the act of sitting down to eat it feels like you're laying the foundation stone of the day. So, sitting at the kitchen table; cheese-on-toast tumbled with sauteed broccoli and bell peppers accompanied by a steam brimmed cafetiere, it was easy to become taken by the complacent notion that the day would fall perfectly into place.
The rest of the Sunday felt a bit like a fill-in-the-blanks exercise. Having the ability to guiltlessly sit and play a game or read a book is nothing short of a blessing. However, I ended up taking two separate walks, which is just as symptomatic of a meandering head-space as anything else could be. So, while not an unpleasant experience, it's definitely the start of a long process of becoming comfortable and ignoring unhealthy compulsions.
I have to talk about one highlight of the day though; lunch. Reflecting on it, I find that occasionally I won't have lunch on an unstructured day because there seems to be no place for it to slot in. This Sunday, I was determined to change that. I am currently on the verge of committing myself into a full-scale radish cyclone thanks to a certain Orangette article from 2005. The day prior, I had initiated myself in the life-altering virtue of the humble white baguette, buttered and salted with slices white radishes. Now, on a Sunday afternoon, the time had come to shoehorn the remainder of my fandango pink roots into my current favourite cooking method; the braise.
Pillaging the need-to-use stores of the kitchen, including a half can of coconut milk, lashings of turmeric powder and a particularly bulky head of spring greens, the idea of the quick-braised and vibrant stew perforated by spears of buttered toast swiftly came to fruition. Would this have come into being on a day laden with structure? Perhaps. But there is something integral about the flexibility of the "go-with-what-you-have" attitude underlying the serendipitous inter-mesh of golds, greens and pinks resulting from this.
So, to return to the word that is perhaps no longer unspeakable; will I be this "chill" all of the time? Almost definitely not. Do I want to be? Same response. But, I can take these hour long interludes and savour them for the useful counterpoint they are. Perhaps they'll continue to be this fruitful too? I guess I'll have to wait until next Sunday to find out.
The version of this I made used half of the quantities specified below, however this is the kind of recipe where the amounts specified for each ingredient are all proportional to each other, and therefore can be easily doubled. Plus, I couldn't suggest you use half a can of coconut milk in good faith, now could I?
Turmeric & Coconut Braised Radishes
Preparation time: 15 minutes
Cooking time: 20 minutes
Serves: 2-3
Ingredients
400g of pink radishes, halved sideways
70g of spring greens, finely sliced
3 cloves of garlic, crushed and minced
1 tsp of grated ginger
400ml of coconut milk
2 tsp of turmeric
1 tsp of cumin
1/2 tsp of chilli flakes
1 tbsp of butter/vegan butter
Salt
Pepper
Method
Warm a medium sized saucepan over a low heat, before adding the butter and slowly melting it, taking care to ensure that it doesn't burn. Once the butter has completely melted, add the garlic, ginger and chilli, turn up to a medium-high heat, and fry for one minute to allow the flavours to infuse.
Add the radishes into the saucepan along with a pinch of salt and fry for three minutes. This will soften them a little and make them more tender when braised.
Pour in the can of coconut milk, turmeric and cumin, turn up to a high heat and bring to a boil. Once the pan is boiling, turn the heat down to medium-low and clamp the lid down. Leave this for ten minutes.
After ten minutes, stir in the spring greens to the mixture and put the lid on the saucepan for a further five minutes, letting the leaves soften somewhat.
Leave to cool for a few minutes, before serving with slices of bread or a bowl of rice.
Notes & Adjustments
The taste of this dish is more creamy, than overtly coconut flavoured. If you wanted to boost this flavour, then take half a tbsp of desiccated coconut and dry fry on a medium-low heat in a frying pan until golden brown (this will take about five minutes). Add the coconut flakes into the mixture along with the spices.
Alternatively, if you want more of a full-bodied tang then add 1 tsp of tamarind paste at the same time as the coconut milk.
If you use a dairy-free butter for this recipe, then it will be vegan. You could also use a neutral oil.
I have the band Rush to thank for the title of this post. I've been listening to the song Mystic Rhythms all week, and was compelled to shoehorn it in somewhere!
Lastly, FOTB Keith suggests a Honey Bee cocktail to go with this. The ingredients are lemon juice, orange juice, honey and Jamaican rum (I'm sure you can be a bit loose with the provenance of your spirit here).
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