DInner: Two-thirty came quickly. SIxty-five guests quickly filled the space, and we were off. We introduced the shape of the afternoon: directly tasting our immediate environment from ocean to mountain top. Sea Air: Sage and Eucalyptus (burned in room) Sea Rock: Limestone sea tumbled rock prepared in Mediterranean ocean (served individually on pine) Sea Glass: Sea Glass tumbled briefly with bruised lime zest (served individually on pine) Cocktail: Sea Water, Sea Salt Smoked, Vodka, Spring Water with Gas (In glass) River Bed [Air: Lime leaves (burnt in room)] River Rock: Limestone Rock tumbled smooth in Dog River (Served Individually on Pine) Rough Mountain Rock: Limestone Rock with freshly mashed olive extraction and Juniper rub Cocktail: Mashed Wild Plum, Mountain Blue Berry, Whole Wild Plum, Vodka, Spring Water...
Midnight Thursday night: Back at the hotel sitting on the deck with a hastily purchased bottle of good local wine we begin to plan dinner. Earlier we looked over our foraging haul: 48 things. How to approach eating? We quickly decided that this would be less about a gastronomical meal and more of a chance to feel, sense and join the world directly underfoot. We wished to experience as a group the question: what does it mean to be of a place and not merely in a place? We would serve what we found: rocks, water, mud, sea-polished glass, roots, stems, leaves, berries, fish, and airs -- doing little to make them meet our palettes in the ways we normally equate...
We begin at the edge of the sea standing on rocks that millions of years before were fish. The sea breaking over our feet as we gather water, pebbles and glass smoothed by years of tidal movements as the Mediterranean breathes in and out with the moons pulling of oceans across the earth in a daily rhythm. They tell us shit is pouring into the ocean, and bulldozers are pushing trash out to sea. Fishermen are casting from the promenade as old men swim their daily routines. Everyone streams by, walking this edge between sea and mountain -- a tens of million year corridor. Traffic is picking up as the sun appears from behind the hills. Cretaceous: Everything is flowing...
Its shaping up to be a busy fall! Join us out on the sidewalks -- we would love to work with you. Tuesday, October 10 12:30 pm Come watch and discuss "The Gleaners & I" with SPURSE at William Patterson University. More info here. Cheng Library Auditorium. Admission: FREE "Considered one of the ten best documentary films ever made, The Gleaners & I, by Agnes Varda, a founding figure of the French New Wave, focuses on gleaning -- the practice of salvaging what is left in farm fields, markets and elsewhere. The film makes us rethink our connections to food, each other and even ourselves. This documentary will be presented by the design collective "SPURSE," in conjunction with the WP...
It turns out it is quite hard to spit. At least for me, I am not a big spitter. I find it unappealing. It was never something I did, or really could do. Other kids could huck a gob of spit a few meters with great accuracy. Not me, it just kind of sprayed everywhere. Maybe my mouth runs dry compared with spitters. So I still have to work at it. I work up a gob in my mouth, sucking from my cheeks and the back of my mouth until there is enough to dribble out. Then I start again. Suck from the back and sides and dribble out. This last week I have been taking up learning this skill...
