Everything in the Kitchen Coleslaw

One of my favourite things is sitting down to a meal after believing for a blip of time that there was no food in the house.

By the time I sit down at the table, I already know the creation laid out in front of me is seriously delicious because I am one of those cooks that munch as I craft and take scoopfuls as I stir (definitely double-dipping).

I will thank my grandmother Marie for being a semi-terrible cook who convinced me to fall deeply in love with cabbage.

After my parent's divorced my father moved in with Nanny Marie and Grandpa Pat, at whose house you ate everything on your plate no matter what. Steamed cabbage was a staple.

So here’s me opening every cupboard with a sigh followed by a determined breath in between poking around the fridge over and over again. Nothing seems easy or appealing, but the big shiny cabbage keeps catching my eye.

It’s time for everything in the kitchen coleslaw.

With this recognition of an overlooked option, my spirits are lifted. I crack the twist top on a bottle of Believer wine, my go-to this year of 2020 - keeping the faith alive with an occasional evening of Argentinian Organic Red.

I am not a big drinker, because I used to be an abusive drinker. I never spoiled wine or beer for myself though because as a party girl I stuck to hard alcohol that wiped me out faster. Now I’m not drinking to forget, I’m sipping in celebration.

This has been such a wild wonky year of learning how to be - how to be with family peacefully, how to be with myself to enable that genuine interpersonal peace, and how to be alive and well in the infinite unknown.

I raise my glass to the wall beside my stove where my food prayer is framed and illuminated. I call on Hermes Trismegistus (the guy who said “as within, so without”), to give me the energy this day that I may work my will. I love this ritual of feeling blessed by the substances I ingest and of making the request that they assist me in aligning all aspects of myself for the highest manifestation possible.

I toss the last of the bacon in the cast iron pan to fry. I chop one of the last red onions from our Fall garden haul. I roast the bits and pieces of root vegetable floating around the counters and shelves. I tear open a pack of imitation lobster. Things are looking up.

The smell of yam and cauliflower sizzling in olive oil in my little old oven delights me and I am elated to discover a heel of bread. Cheers to that.

Every time I see the word Argentina I think of my favourite artist who was born in that country and I think of him this night as I take another sip of wine. Xul Solar was a man who deeply believed in unity.

He believed in making things that reflect the participation of the whole. He believed in creating uncommon meeting grounds for play, expression, and thriving in terms for common folk. He believed beauty was abundant everywhere and he seemed to live on a continuous stream of question marks in deep contentment.

I mean, I did not know the guy and there is very little literature on him, but I feel as though I am making him proud in this act of creation - bringing together seemingly disparate items in a symphony of taste.

I shred the cabbage with my big shiny knife - a mix of super thin and chunky crunchy slices. I nibble and the subtle sweetness of this green cabbage compounds nicely with the plum and cherry of the wine.

Reflection, surrender, acceptance, creativity, nourishment.

Being in flow state leaves energy left over to celebrate. When we do not waste our energy resisting and complaining we are able to see possibility. Feeling grounded in the body, a mind and heart aligned with shared cause, there is so much room to find bliss in an unexpected medley of randomness.

I mix in some mayonnaise, though I consider a savoury miso dressing too, my dinner companions are mayo fans and I am pleased to please.

This fluffy bed of cabbage receives the dynamic assortment of ingredients as an all embracing landing pad. The lost and weary are strengthened in the partnership. A flurry of sunflower seeds, scraggly spouts, pink salt, fresh ground black pepper, and nutritional yeast top it off. Voila.

Everyone at the table is complimentary scooping piles of Everything-in-the-Kitchen-Coleslaw onto crispy rye toast. We clink our small mason jars and take our final mouthfuls in joy and gratitude for another mundane day woven with magic.