I over-zested. I did. I admit it. This sour bite of this sin, this overindulgence in a taste enjoyed, proved that what more is not always better. That, what is wanted, is not always needed nor best, fruitful nor good.
Remember as a child, wanting something really badly? Feeling an actual physical ache for a Something not in your possession, that you really just must have. You needed it. Now. This something was surely laughed over and laughed at by your parents, as being small potatoes.
Or, it’s like that feeling of eating too much. When your tongue pants for another tingling taste of that one ingredient. That one ingredient that brings you to a place of remembered comfort. You can’t quite recall where or when, but your senses tell you that you have tasted this before. It is good. It is safe. And now memories, heated into opaque reminiscence, want that feeling, those sensations, again. It is like finding love again, only this time, Unveiled.
I have a deep love of lemons. They make me think of warmth and home and love. This evening, I needed those things. I needed to feel close to those things.
My mother is always telling me to eat more rice. The starch, she says, is good for my troubled tummy. It rumbles with the lonely voices of too many fruits and vegetables. Their ached companion? Rice. “Something,” says motherly advice “needs to be there to bind.” The obvious solution? Rice.
I have a basil plant in my window sill. It was bought, at the Boulder Farmer’s Market from Pachamama Organic Farms. My friend asked, How do you grow this basil? ”Lots of sun. Moisture. And, always pick from the top,” came the instructions.
Both he and I have, as true Kindred Spirits, independently killed every basil plant we’ve ever tried growing. But
this one, has survived.
So, tonight, I made rice — a risotto. And, in my emotional conjuring of Home, I zested too much. Indeed, the long chubby grains welled up with reminding love. But, when tasted, they had an after-bite unlike any love I have known…any true love, that is.
The risotto soothed, and oddly, sometimes an extra kick is what is needed…what Love needs to do…
1. Heat olive oil in a pan. Add chives and arborio rice (1/4 cup). Saute until rice is translucent.
2. Add water (about 1 cup or so, depending upon desired consistency) slowly, stirring with each addition. Simmer
for about 20 minutes.
3. Add basil and lemon zest (about 1/4 tsp. – don’t over zest!) about 5 minutes from end.