How I am able to live a Slow Life, Part Two

All About My Cooking Routine

I made a playlist with my daughter this morning. We started with Norah Jones and ended with Van Morrison’s Brown Eyed Girl. I swooped her up and murmured the lyrics in her ear as I bounced her around on my hip (at five and a half years old, this isn’t as easy as it used to be.)

“I am a brown-eyed girl! How did her know? Do I know him, Mama?” Her sweet questions etched themselves onto my heart. “No, I don’t remember when! Mama, he’s silly.” Her arms wrapped tighter around my neck as she giggled into my hair.

You know those moments when you can feel that core memory solidifying, the edges taking permanent shape, right as you are in them? The smoothed sides are as hard and soft as sea glass, perfect for running a finger alongside to conjure up the flashes from that particular event. I’m already doing it now, as I write this.

I am greedy for these kinds of moments. I want my days so full of them we can make a mosaic mural of sea glass, a testament to the love and overflowing joy that our family creates. Can a mural capture the contagiousness of laughter that bubbles up out of my children, especially the type that is a result of illicit potty humor (which they have unfortunately discovered) or quoting movie lines in silly voices?

It seems awfully boastful to say this, but I believe we are able to have more of these moments, more of these luminescent core memories, because we live a slower lifestyle. Because we have opted out of so much of what mainstream America deems necessary for a well-rounded childhood. Because we homeschool, eschew excessive extracurricular activities, and choose to spend more time together. Everything about our lives is designed to support our slowness. Even my spouse’s career, which is in a sort of midlife turning point, is being reimagined to allow for more spaciousness and symbiosis with our home life.

In my last letter, I talked about some of the tangible tools I use to regulate my nervous system so that I can slow down enough to fully embrace a slower lifestyle. For Part Two today (an entire week later than I intended), I will share with you some of my cooking philosophies and practices that allow for a slower lifestyle.

Simplifying My Family’s Meals

I subscribe to a sort of cooking minimalism, if you will. I’ve shared a bit about it in previous letters (See here and here). The first part of my slow cooking philosophy centers on meal planning around several cornerstones, like bread or rice. By making our homemade bread or pasta the center of the meal, the other components can be switched in rather easily, depending on our preferences or energy for the day.

At the beginning of the week, I usually make one or two sauces that can be utilized in a variety of dishes. A creamy, ranch-like herb dressing makes an appearance most weeks, or a tahini-Meyer lemon number that I’m quite fond of on chicken. Pesto is ubiquitous in the summer. Chimichurris, romescos, miso-orange-carrot… Putting my effort into bright, savory, punchy little sauces means we can create exciting meals from simply cooked vegetables and proteins, all built upon a cornerstone. Dinners made of loose parts are the kinds that don’t require hours in the kitchen, yet are still wholesome and economical. They allow for components to be made throughout the day — my typical schedule follows a pattern of bread baking in the morning, sauces or fiddly bits around lunchtime, then vegetables and proteins in the late afternoon. Often there is the reheating of leftovers or soups. Mealtime is much more easeful this way.

Workhorse Ingredients

Along this vein, certain ingredients lend themselves to a variety of dishes and can fill multiple roles on the table. Bread is an obvious ingredient, useful for everything from sandwiches and toasts to croutons and breadcrumbs. Another powerhouse is dried beans. I cook at least a pound a week, and find all sorts of ways to use them up as the days go by. (If you are in the US, seek out Rancho Gordo online or in a specialty grocer. I’ve belonged to their bean club for years and it is the best gift I have ever given myself.) Dinner never seems to be hard to figure out, as long as there are a few cups of cooked beans waiting for me in the fridge. Less time pondering what to make for dinner means more time to read or write or paint watercolors with the children!

Other versatile ingredients include whole roasted chicken, blanched broccoli or sautéed kale, cooked rice, polenta, frozen peas or corn, bone broth… the list goes on, and it will be different for every family. Think of what your family enjoys or needs and then build out a list of fridge and pantry staples that can adapt to a variety of dishes.

Fully Understanding My Family’s Needs

This brings me to another important principle: fully understanding what works for my family. Like most of us, I have long suffered from the social media comparison trap — seeing a homesteading influencer make from-scratch pie crust very night for her family can send me into a tailspin of thinking I am not doing enough for mine. But I know that while I value making most of our food myself, I also know that I cannot do every single little thing alone. I know my needs for quiet and rest are important, and if I don’t get them consistently, I am not as good at my jobs as I can be. Sometimes I can’t get all of my desires in the kitchen met, because my personal self nurturing needs must come first.

Because of my chronic digestive disease, I feel best when I consume bone broth and cooked cruciferous vegetables on most days. My current life stage means my protein, iron, and calcium needs are greater than ever. My kids are greatly affected by food dyes and heavily processed sweet treats. My spouse thinks soup is not a meal. I have to take everyone’s needs and desires into account when formulating our meal plans. What works for the other writers and influencers I follow might not work for us — and that is perfectly ok! The point is that I have my priorities in order: for us, it means meals are simple, nourishing, wholesome, use minimal plastic, and they are tailored to us. What are your priorities? What can you move to the forefront to allow your life more spaciousness?

Quality Kitchen Tools

Finally, I think that having high-quality sustainable kitchen tools make cooking more efficient, safer, and more pleasurable. If they are genuinely beautiful, then it makes all the difference. I have a favorite wooden spatula-spoon that was hand carved by an artisan in Maine. A Heath ceramics bowl gifted to me by my mother-in-law. A very sharp German knife that has just the right heft. These things make cooking more fun, and allow me to sink in to the experience of cooking. Preparing food is not just something that must be done so that we have more time to enjoy ourselves; it can be a slow and simple meditative practice in its own right.

There’s one more piece to this puzzle of how we are able to live this slow life. But it’s going to have to wait until next week, as everyone is calling for me to wrap this up so we can do family movie night, complete with popcorn and chocolate chip ice cream. My children have just discovered the sweet joy that is The Princess Bride, and I won’t miss a minute of it.

Take good and gentle care of yourselves, my friends.

Kristina