“December is never the month I want it to be.”
So says my husband every year. As the calendar turns to an inexorable close, the season of giving and celebration can all too often turn into the season of stress.
Expectations, great and small, cloud our better judgement. Generosity, that most wonderful of ideas, becomes conflated with the flurry of spending, as we seek out that one perfect gift, no matter the cost. Excesses abound. And family time surfaces old narratives and dormant resentments better left in the shadows of history long past.
But I am hopeful that this year, this time, really will be different.
“It is good to have an end to journey toward; but it is the journey that matters, in the end.”
Ursula K Le Guin, The Left Hand of Darkness
In the early days of the pandemic, when all sense of grounding was swept away beneath our feet, we floundered to find meaning in the face of seeming madness. As time passed, and we got our sea legs, the shifting surface began to feel almost normal. And the wise ones amongst us began to write about how this time, this moment, would change us, forever and for the better.
But the better angels of our nature haven’t always prevailed. We’ve been so tired, all of us, and that weariness makes it easy to forget the hard lessons of the last year. That’s why this great piece from Nancy Rappaport, written in the more hopeful days of summer, is worth rereading now. The five lessons extolled: re-examining key relationships; resilience; finding solace in new rituals; staying grounded in the moment; embracing our new selves - are more relevant than ever.
As Rappaport says:
Meaning-making is the true task of history and that process moves slowly, as it requires perspective. We’ll only understand the repercussions of this pandemic years into the future, when we’re able to really look in the rear-view mirror and see the full scope and context of how society and culture shifted — and how, with any luck, we were changed for the better alongside them.
So, I think I’ll also try to shift the narrative and make this a memorable December, full of hope and gladness. We are here, we are together, and, just like that long-ago star of good tidings, we can shine bright.
A warm welcome to my new subscribers! I hope you enjoy Delicious Bits as much as I enjoy writing it.
Three sisters soup
from A Rising Tide, DL Acken and Emily Lycopolus
December is the time for “Best of” cookbook lists. And while I devour these lists, in my mind I always go back to my favourites; the tried and true workhorses of my kitchen that never fail to instruct, surprise and entertain. That’s why I started my now annual Cookbook Redux Advent Calendar countdown over on Instagram. Featuring cookbooks from my collection, both old and new, my list is sure to include a book or two you don’t own - but should.
One such book is A Rising Tide. In the category of new, with the spine barely cracked open, I already know this is one that will be in heavy rotation. Full of stories and recipes from Canada’s Atlantic Coast, my first dip in was Three Sisters soup. The “sisters” are squash, beans and corn, and are the foundational focus of Indigenous seed savers. This soup makes for a perfect December meal. It’s simple, delicious and can be made in a flash.
Ingredients
One medium butternut or acorn squash
2 tablespoons butter
¼ cup diced white onion
2 cloves garlic, minced
1 teaspoon curry powder
1 teaspoon ground cumin
½ teaspoon sea salt
1 cup cooked beans, such as navy, black, kidney or a mixture
½ cup thawed frozen corn
4 cups vegetable or chicken stock
Heat the oven to 375°F. Line a rimmed baking sheet with parchment paper for the squash.
Peel the squash, cut into 1 inch cubes and roast for 30 minutes, or until easily pierced with a fork. Cool the squash slightly and mash lightly with a fork or potato masher and set aside.
Heat a large sauce pan over medium low heat and melt the butter. Add the onions and garlic and cook until tender, 3 to 5 minutes. Stir in the curry powder, cumin and salt and cook for one minute more until fragrant.
Add the beans, corn and stock and bring to a boil. Reduce the heat, cover and simmer, stirring occasionally, for 15 to 20 minutes.
Add the squash and cook for an additional 5 to 7 minutes, until the soup is bubbling hot. Serve it forth.
The soup will keep in the refrigerator for up to five days, or can be frozen for up to six months. Doubles easily.