My eyes, hands, nose and ears have all reached out to select this lovely green reward. As the shoots are just venturing forth from garden beds in my world, I know this gem has traveled far to catch all my senses.
I have brought it home just for me and now as sunshine burns back the fog and mist of morning walk, I pick up my treasure and begin the task of preparation. Two good thumps to the side of the sink and the leaves relax to allow the water to cleanse. Thick stem cut away and set aside for potassium broth. Swift, sharp blade to the top edge and then a slice to create the halves; it is wounded.
Red handled veggie scissors snip the prickly tips and remind me of my mother’s hands at work by the sink; it is a memory. Small spoon digs into the silky choke to separate and pare away.
Steamer is set into the pot and pure water filled to the level and each half is carefully laid down upon the form. To boil and then to simmer, and the hands are washed and cutaways are put into the compost for the work ahead. My fingers are blackened and will remain so for most of this day; reminder.
A bowl of raspberries and red, red juice are set beside my plate of green. I do not mind the heat, rather I draw the first leaf slowly across my teeth and savor the gentle offering; there are 42 leaves before the heart, each one granted a minute on its own.
Nothing interferes with the exaltation and pure taste of what has transpired.
The hour has past, dishes are done and steam water is greenish delight in freezer for stock; I push myself back to the work and the list knowing full well that this was enough.
Do you focus on every bite when you eat? Is it like a gift or a meditation/prayer? When was the last time/instance you were certain it was enough?
Happy Easter and Passover