Snow-Hell by Kathryn Merrifield

Snow.  A lot of it.  So much so, that the schools closed at noon today, truncating my office time and sending us all home to highly-saturated togetherness.  The library isn’t even open.  It’s that kind of snow.  It’s total shutdown.

And, in this kind of snow, I don’t do so well.  Cold-tolerance has always been a challenge for me.  I can blame my California upbringing all I want – and so can you – but the truth of the matter is that I’ve always been this way.  The kind of girl who is always cold.

I flippin’ hate snow…  I can’t swear enough to drive this point home.  The cold.  Chilly water.  Luke warm is cold to me.  Tepid…  Far, far worse.  And, I can dislike this aversion all I want.  But, it’s still there.

Three children later, I find I struggle with this even more.  The flakes barely start to  fall and I start pacing like a trapped animal.  Rain, I can do.  Rain is good mood lighting for a little deep writing riff.  It’s a little slide guitar to what can be a ukulele some days.

Quite honestly, I don’t know what to do with it.  My biological functions of sleep/awake cycles are screaming, “Sleep through it.  The bears do!”  But, my kids are screaming at the Wii - arguing and yelling at the computerized inhuman humans.  I want to get some work done but my internet connection is down.  I want to read, but the screaming won’t let me focus on the otherwise engaging text in front of me.  I can’t even pay attention to Malala’s story.  A great story rom what I can glean from chapter one.

It’s a back-and-forth – a dull one that drives me bat-wit crazy.

This confession comes with the realization that there’s a part of me that wishes to the moon and back that I was a snowbird, snowgirl, snowcat, snowperson.  The worst part of that is wishing to be something else.  It’s a bit like wishing away sadness.  The act of wishing it away causes depression and anger. I’m annoyed at myself because I just do better in the sun.  You will never hear me complain that it’s too hot. 

But, then again… I just saw my neighbor push one of her dogs out the door and into the snow and the little Min Pin stumbled right back inside.  The other one, the albino Jack Russel Terrior, peed and was instantly shepherded back inside with excessive and congratulatory patting.

Glorious vindication!  Even the dogs don’t want to go out.  The cat’s asleep.  And, me…  I’m doing this.  Being honest.  Mostly, because it’s the only thing that saves me from feeling like I’m the only one who misses the sand and sea and the left coast masquerade of freedom, neatly concealed until you get on the 405.

You and I can still be good parents even if we hate the barricade of this particular day.

And, look.  I’m dealing.  And so are you.  Reinforcements being called in for the balance of the week.  Perhaps forever.

It takes a village.

The Hearty Vegan Food Revue by Kathryn Merrifield

My gift of Friday, was an invitation by a friend, Greg Sotire - musician, dad, fine guitar salesman, and otherwise incredibly clean-living vegan – to dinner.  He suggested Veggie Heaven in New City.  And, me, not knowing any place in Westchester to get decent vegetarian food (apart from the fast-foodish offerings at Whole Foods), was wholly game, especially after I learned why Greg wasn’t a cafeteria vegan.

“I’ve stuck to this diet since I started it.”

The reason was heart disease, on heart attack at age 32 when he became a vegetarian, to no remarkable effect.  It did not resolve the artery blockage or his doctor’s warnings that there would be repeat arrests.  Two stints later, be became a full throttle vegan and cleaned out his arteries with a vegan diet, a diet that also excludes coffee, alcohol and anything that can be described as unnatural…  No nothing, to some. 

No nothing worked.  No nothing caused the miracle of clean arteries and no heart attacks.  No nothing is that he completely reversed heart disease, more a matter of genetics in this case.  Greg is forty now and smiles a lot and loves his food, music, son… food. 

More food.

The thing about people with food intolerances or strict diets is that food becomes even more important when it’s unavailable.  Most of the time, you have to eat “wilted lettuce,” Greg said, if you don’t make the effort, make the extra drive and get a little creative.

My diet is low gluten, much the result of having a child with special needs and seeing the good effects that diet manipulation can have on behavior, the gut, and general health.  Low gluten cured my tummy trouble.  I eat little bits of meat here and there and do eat some fish (mostly farm-raised salmon as I try to do my part to halt the imminent sadness of over-fishing) but it’s a really an issue of my once-titanium-lined (so I thought) stomach that children and life have considerable weakened.

Of course, exercise helps my tightly-wound self which also helps my stomach.  It seems that the stresses of the world convene there for me.  And I learned from Greg that acidity is also caused from anxiety and stress. 

“Doesn’t that suck?”  He laughed.  Alkaline, ph-balanced water (the new reverse osmosis trend that does help, by the way) may be able to reduce acidity but it can’t cure stress. 

Swim, bike, run, yoga…  Helps me.  Good fuel helps that.

I’ve never been to New City but it was worth it.  I can’t begin to describe how tasty the chefs made the vegan offerings.  Among them, spring rolls with mango, yummy shoots of something and a saucy cashew and almond paste wrapped in kale (gluten-free).  There was vegan pork, vegan (mushroom) beef and tofu chicken sautéed (“stir fry” doesn’t do it justice) called Bang Bang chicken with beef, cashews, asparagus, peppers, onions and a delish sauce that Greg resurrected from a special he once had and they made upon request.  Veggie Heaven makes their own faux (not fake) meat in house.  Then there are the brown rice dumplings, leftovers of which today I couldn’t wait for lunch to eat.  They covered breakfast and lunch even after sharing so that Greg’s son, Pete, could later enjoy.

Vegan Bang Bang Chicken with (Mushroom) Beef

Dessert bookended dinner with coconut cake.  Oh, and the jasmine tea – the best I’ve ever had - which would be a compliment if I’d ever previously tasted jasmine tea – sweeter than green.  There’s divinity in that.

The only thing that has ever come close to Veggie Heaven, defined by Wendy, the owner, as “Food for the Five Senses,” is the Ayurveda restaurant on the upper Westside of Manhattan that I used to frequent as a resident there.

Veggie Heaven makes vegetarian beef, pork and chicken taste better than the real deal.  Fresh-tasting is an understatement.

To say it is worth the drive…  Well, it’s worth the drive.  Even after I already had lunch at Andy’s Pure Food in Rye.  It was a Good Food Friday.  Ever day should be so good.

Let’s work together, my friends, to increase Veggie Heaven revenues… There’s talk of a location coming soon to Connecticut.

Veggie Heave Placement - Mission Statement

http://www.veggieheavennewcity.com/welcome.html