It’s colder here. Last week never let us in on what these few days would hold. Pants, scarves, boots. Parisians have brought all these things out of their wardrobes again. I can see layers. We were waiting for summer. And we believed it was close. Ever since we were little we were told that that was how it was supposed to happen, that summer followed spring and so there is disappointment in the city this week.
This morning while I was watching the leaves outside my window, which were inappropriately green, I remembered how you told me the other day that you were exhausted from living in waiting. It was more than hanging around in front of an oven for a cake to rise; you were lingering for something that you wanted to come next. Yearning for this unknown that you believed would make you feel more grounded, feel more happiness or at least would just make you feel ok about everything that has happened and that is going to happen.
I think I had forgotten the day we spoke, that it is true about our imaginations, that we are very human in our thinking-things-up that seem wonderful, all-including and more definite. I am certain that somehow our imaginations are connected with this notion of waiting, because one follows the other. We imagine, sometimes we make steps towards its existence, and then we must wait for its reality to take place. But this waiting is for something that is so out of our control, that our yearning and pining for it to become real can sometimes create a small amount of pain, because in this moment, at this time with all that is happening around us, it is only our imagining.
Some one very amazing the other day reminded me to attain hopeful habits. And so what I am saying is that even though there are some spaces in life without any particular assurance, for now, as you live still waiting for those things which you already love, those things which are right and good, but the reality of them still remains unknown to you, in every sense, perhaps you could live in a way that would complement them if they were to become real. Perhaps discontentment does not have to be a reaction to this tension.
I told you I wanted to cook for people, to have discussion in my home, to encourage you into a space of hopefulness and not deficiency. It’s not quite summer anymore, as I thought it may have been, but at least I can still practice the food that I would love to accompany those pending days with.
And I wish I could have reminded you the other day, that if you do have some assurance in the impending reality of the things you are hoping for, then protect the knowledge that even though they are not-yet-now, one day they will be outrageously-here.
White Sesame Tofu Mouse in a Stack of Vegetables
150 grams momen tofu (from good Japanese stores)
1 Tbsp white sesame paste (")
1 tsp extra virgin olive oil
2 pieces of quality whole meal sourdough
1 aubergine, chopped vertically into 1 cm slices
2 large white asparagus, sliced vertically in half
a bunch of rocket, washed
2 Tbsp sesame seeds
squeeze of lemon juice
Pre-heat the oven to 200°
In a bowl place the tofu, sesame paste, olive oil, salt and pepper. With a magic wand (hand-held processor), process the mixture until to becomes smooth and well incorporated. Taste. You may want to add more sesame paste. Season to your desire.
Place the sesame seeds in an oven tray and toast until lightly golden. If they are all black then toast for about 8 minutes.
On an oven tray spread out your aubergine and asparagus. Pour over some olive oil, salt and pepper. Make sure you rub all the vegetables with a good amount of seasoning. Bake until cooked through (about 20 minutes).
Lightly toast your slices of bread.
To assemble, place the bread on a plate, cover with one slice of aubergine, topped with the tofu mixture. Then interchange layers with rocket and vegetables. Drizzle with olive oil, lemon juice, salt, pepper and sesame seeds.