Each of us has built a collection of seemingly small losses in the last few years—cancelled trips, lost time with family, missed events like graduations and weddings. The accumulation of these disappointments weighs heavy and cultivates disenfranchised grief. This type of grief is difficult to identify, and a lot of us feel guilty honoring it. When others have suffered more, what right do we have to mourn our more minor losses?
I believe it is essential to acknowledge disenfranchised grief, to speak it to someone with whom we feel safe, and then to find alternative ways to enact small joys. I’ve recently felt a diffused, latent grumpiness. I didn’t understand why my temper was short, and I didn’t know why I was feeling emotional. When I paused and went within, I realized that my quiet little griefs had brought on a palpable mood shift. The second I acknowledged my disenfranchised grief, I felt the tension in my shoulders ease a bit. It’s okay to feel sad for the lost moments with loved ones and the vacations that never happened. As I let my grief evolve, I distract myself in lighthearted ways. The feelings of disappointment will diminish, and in the meantime, I counterbalance my grief with happy activities.
Memory Travel
With travel severely restricted and very stressful, I’ve mostly traveled through my past. The last two weeks, my 2015 trip to Italy’s Val d’Orcia has been on my mind. I’m reliving the early mornings on the deck, when the sun came up over the valley, the wild boars squealed, and the birds chirped. Day after day, I’ve been seeing the glorious Tuscan hills in my third eye and almost tasting the fruity olive oil we drizzled on our pasta. Rather than leave me with a sense of loss, my Italian reveries are fulfilling and hopeful.
Awaken the Senses
Throughout the pandemic, the kitchen has been my happy place. Meal preparation calls upon multiple senses. I see the bright produce I pull from the grocery shelves, touch the ingredients as I chop, smell the herbs as I rub them between my fingers, hear the vegetables sizzle in the olive oil, and taste the dish resulting from my labor. After tinkering with my winter minestrone soup, I am ready to share my recipe, found at the end of this post. Please make it your own! Dried beans are even more delicious than canned, and dried herbs can be used in a pinch. My winter minestrone will adjust to your whims, your pantry, and your senses.
Work It Out on the Mat
Sometimes the best way to deal with grief is through movement. This week, my yoga mat has been a place of respite. I admit I’m not pushing myself hard. My exercise is slow and intentional. In the weeks to come, I’ll be ready for more rigor. But for now, I just need to process loss and disappointment. I am learning that acknowledging my grief is uplifting.
Winter Minestrone
- Yield: 6 servings
- Category: Celebrations, Dinner, Soups
Ingredients
- 1/4 c extra-virgin olive oil, plus more for serving
- Parmesan cheese, grated
- 1/4 c extra-virgin olive oil, plus more for serving
- 1 medium-large onion
- 2 ribs celery, diced
- 2 carrots, diced
- 3 cloves garlic, sliced or chopped
- 1/2 tsp. chopped rosemary
- 1 tsp. chopped sage
- 1 bay leaf
- 1 can diced tomatoes (14.5 oz)
- 1 bunch kale, stemmed, washed, and chopped
- 1/2 butternut squash, peeled and cut into ¼ inch cubes
- 4 c water
- 1 can cannellini or great northern beans, drained and rinsed
- salt and pepper
Instructions
- Warm olive oil over medium heat and sauté onion until light gold, about 8 minutes. Add celery and carrots to pot with 2 tsp salt, and cook to a rich golden brown, about 8-10 minutes. Add kale, garlic, rosemary, bay leaf, and sage. Cook over med-low heat for about 5 minutes, taking care to keep the garlic and herbs from burning. Add water and tomatoes, turn up heat, and simmer for 15 minutes. Add squash and cook until tender, about 15 minutes. Then, add the beans and cook until heated through. Remove the bay leaf. If soup is too thick, thin with hot water. Serve in bowls, garnishing each with a drizzle of extra-virgin olive oil and one spoonful grated Parmesan cheese. Variation: For a thicker soup, use two cans of beans.
- Warm olive oil over medium heat and sauté onion until light gold, about 8 minutes. Add celery and carrots to pot with 2 tsp salt, and cook to a rich golden brown, about 8-10 minutes. Add kale, garlic, rosemary, bay leaf, and sage. Cook over med-low heat for about 5 minutes, taking care to keep the garlic and herbs from burning. Add water and tomatoes, turn up heat, and simmer for 15 minutes. Add squash and cook until tender, about 15 minutes. Then, add the beans and cook until heated through. Remove the bay leaf. If soup is too thick, thin with hot water. Serve in bowls, garnishing each with a drizzle of extra-virgin olive oil and one spoonful grated Parmesan cheese. Variation: For a thicker soup, use two cans of beans.
Inspirations
During a recent visit to a Central Kentucky flea market, I overheard a mother instructing her children: “These are antiques, so they are three times as expensive. Don’t touch anything.” Her words have been rolling around in my mind for a few days, and I must admit that I find antique and vintage pieces to be very reasonably priced. Why? For most people, “old” things are not desirable.
[DECEMBER 2018 NOTE: The Rabbit Hole’s Redfern location will close after December 23, 2018, but Barangaroo location will still be open.]
T Totaler is a homegrown tea business, focusing on Australian grown teas and botanicals. Founded in 2012, Amber and Paul Sunderland make custom tea blends for restaurants, develop tea-based “mocktails”, and teach workshops. At their Newtown tea bar, I sampled a dazzling Teagroni, an iced White Peony tea with rose petals, and a hot Australian grown Sencha with coconut and lemon myrtle. Each one was perfect in its own way, and the tea bar’s decor was charmingly cozy with fiddle leaf figs and apothecary jars. Since my visit, T Totaler has opened a second location in the center of Sydney, which is now their primary location.
One of Sydney’s favorite dumpling restaurants, Lotus The Galeries also features a range of teas. I had the privilege and pleasure of sharing dumplings and tea cocktails with Sydney’s own teagramming sisters Neha and Smruthi. This charming and generous sister team marries the art of tea with the art of cocktails on their 
Sydney’s innovative and cutting edge tea scene also leaves room for traditional afternoon tea that showcases high end teas and fine pastries incorporating local ingredients. I spent a leisurely and luxurious afternoon at the Langham Sydney. This afternoon teatime is perhaps the most perfect I’ve ever experienced—attentive service, perfectly-infused teas, delightful savories and sweets, a cozy armchair. The pink champagne enhanced my languorous afternoon! I was able to sample a number of teas—a subtle Orange blossom tea, a creamy black Assam, and a white tea with melon. The scones were warm and crumbly, and other sweets were graced with an Australian touch: a hibiscus and guava tart and a cherry lamington. The savories were traditional and spot on: a curried free range egg finger sandwich as well as a prawn, shallot and dill finger sandwich.
The delight in this spontaneous dinner is in its mix and match nature: a 15-minute meal built on little floral plates, purchased in flea markets and antique shops; an assembly of vegetables, herbs and cheese that I had on hand. No fiddling, no stirring, no oven! It was the happiest, most delicious meal I ate all week.
“Space is the breath of art.”
When I entertain, I almost always favor savory over sweet. I’d rather linger over a few small bites before dinner than serve a rich dessert after dinner.
Then each one of us, […] will move back out on the pitch-black porch and let the body heat of the day leech from the house and our own bodies out onto the night, its billion singers—tree frogs, cicadas, the deathless crickets, the high whine of bats–” Renyolds Price, Outdoor on the Porch
The beginning of August was gloriously cool and breezy—not Iowa State Fair weather by any stretch of the imagination. Mom’s cozy front porch is underused, so one day I welcomed her home from work with a mini porch party. It was a snap to organize this tiny gathering: