The Pleasure is Mine

And so I bought a two kilo net of mandarins on the first of the month, peeled each one, then peeled each segment, and it was through that rather tedious process, that I realised that this thing I used to do all the time, that I still enjoy very much, I no longer do.

I’ve been writing extensively about the difficulty that comes with simply being alive. The truth is that whatever you do, whoever you are, life will hit you on the head, puncture your heart, and demand you get up again. So it seems to me impossible to write about difficulty without also writing about pleasure, desire, love — all of which I firmly believe I (everybody) deserve, because if it’s not for that, then why would I get up again?

At the beginning of the year I started taking medication consistently. One of its side effects is appetite suppression, which I’m sure six years ago would have, very sadly, felt like a gift. Today it feels like something has been taken from me, because it has, and I have the clarity of mind to see things as they are. What many years of recovery have taught me is that it’s never just about food. It’s about pleasure, desire and love, because ultimately it’s about aliveness. How alive will I allow myself to feel in my own life?

It’s impossible to write about aliveness without also writing about difficulty and this year has been difficult, but it looks like this month I remembered to ask myself over and over again:

What is the loving thing to do here?

So I baked a cake, and shared it with friends. I made a big pot of chickpeas, my partners favourite, and we ate it together. I made compote, and declared this was a compote winter, because what a wonderfully simple way to make breakfast feel like care. There was something always waiting for me in the fridge.

Right now these are the simple ways in which I’m navigating the side effects of medication but I know that the way I eat will continue to change because life continues to demand different things from me. The loving thing to do is loving precisely because it meets me where I’m at. It gives me a moment to notice, take stock, and act accordingly. Sometimes the loving thing to do is to make a super quick meal, or to eat out, or to order in, whatever! But I do hope I can always find a way to make eating (and everything else!) feel pleasurable; to remind myself that feeling good and connecting to my body is my right, and my guide, directing me towards a life that feels more alive. A life that feels FULL.

And in any case, the loving thing to do, pretty much always, is to eat.

Below are a few recipes that made eating feel good, sweet and easy. My commas of care as John Berger calls them.

“On my windowsill when I got home, there was a tumbler with pink jelly in it, and embedded in the jelly, sliced strawberries and bananas… [my neighbour] cooks at odd hours. She must have made the strawberry jelly this morning. When I buy baklava, which is not often because I eat too many, I leave a few for her on her windowsill, with a headscarf over them so the wasps don’t come. For these little gifts we don’t thank each other with words. They are commas of care.” John Berger, From A to X: A Story in Letters

One of my favourite ways to brighten any sweet breakfast bowl is with a zingy compote. It also just makes me feel happy. I can get stuck in a rut (very prone to hyperfixations!!), so every now and again it’s good to interrupt the sameness.

Listened to: Hödöö by Cèline Dessberg

• 6 mandarins

• 1/2 cup orange juice or mandarin juice

• 1 tbsp orange zest

• 1 tbsp caster sugar

• 1/4 tsp cinnamon

• A squeeze of lemon

• 1 1/2 tbsp grated ginger

• Pinch of salt

1. Peel and segment your mandarins removing as much of the piths as possible. This might take a little time, but I found the process quite meditative. Set aside.

2. Zest your citrus and then juice until you have about 1/2 cup of fresh juice. You can also do a combo, which is usually what I end up doing.

3. Pour juice into a small saucepan, add sugar, cinnamon and grated ginger and stir over med-high heat until it starts to boil, then turn down so that it’s gently simmering for about 5 minutes.

4. Add mandarin segments and cook until they start to collapse (5-10 minutes). I like pressing down with a wooden spoon.

5. Turn off heat, add orange zest and a squeeze of lemon. Omit lemon if you want less acidity.

6. Let cool then pour compote into a jar and keep in fridge for 4-6 days.

   Notes:

   My mandarins where rather sweet, but if yours seem a little on the tart side you might want to add an extra 1/2-1 tbsp of sugar.

   If your compote is looking a little dry as it’s cooking, simply add more citrus or a splash of water.

   If you find that it’s too runny for your taste (keeping in mind it will thicken in the fridge) you can always add a little cornstarch dissolved in water.

I’ve always been a big fan of pickled onions but this time I also decided to pickle some carrots which I don’t think I’ve ever done before. Safe to say, I am now a pickled carrot fanatic. Like really, really.