Ode to Mexico Brunch

We went to Mexico, and lived luxuriously for a week. Highlights of the trip were the dry hot desert climate, a horseback ride at dusk into the arroyo, a late night dip in the ocean surf under moonlit and starry sky, partying with locals and tourists at El Squid Roe, eating from a local grocery store of fresh seasonal fruits, veggies, fish and sauces, and riding a scooter with my honey around town, finding an excellent restaurant with entire Red Snapper on a plate.

It is now two weeks later and Toronto living has almost erased the feeling of Mexico. We keep reminding each other of our memories because they help to releive the early dark and damp cold. Today, almost by accident I made a very Mexican influenced brunch. Of my favorite souvenirs from my trip, my chipotle and ancho chillies packages and my hibiscus flowers, are probably the most prized. Unlike silver jewellery or ponchos, these precious items will have a limited life span in my kitchen.

On the brunch plate:

-Organic, free range egg scramble with fresh minced banana and hot tangy green peppers flecked with dried chipotle, topped with sharp old organic cheddar cheese and drizzled with Valentina Mexican hot sauce.
-Brown mushroom, red onion, Jerusalem Artichoke and tequila blackcurrant braise au gratin
-Coarse polenta grilled in organic sunflower oil, sprinkled with Himalayan rock salt and drenched in homemade organic tomato catsup
-Mango Avocado, pesto and pickled ginger salad

-stove top percolated organic & fair-trade coffee from the Dufferin Grove market. ( I need to find out the name of this one; it's possibly the best coffee I have ever bought for home. )

Notes:
This scrambled egg combo may well be my best to date.
The veggie braise was fantastic with the tequila and sharp cheese-I was inspired by Toronto Life's write-up on a similar dish by done instead with brandy

Fast and Slow

I fasted for four days out in the woods at my friend's place. I can hardly remember it now, it being one week later. While it was on, I moved real slow. I thought out every action before making a single move. For example: I need to get a fire burning before night falls, I look up to the sky to see where the sun's at. It's past the high point and it's coming down. I decide to go sit on the warm canoe back down by the lake where I might see more animals and at least I can absorb some sun before it's too late. On my way back up, i'll break some pine branches off the pine tree that I saw just off the path, and use that for more kindling. That said, I still have to will myself to move. I look at my feet, clad in Timbaland steel toes, damn I'm glad for these boots. Slowly, I tuck one foot and then the other beneath me, dry leaves scratching sounds, before slowly rising to standing. I look in the direction of where I'm going, scanning it all. It's all greens punctured with brown and grey branches and trunks. So much green (the greenest green you ever seen). My foot takes the first step, and I'm off, keeping my eyes gazing a few feet ahead at the path. I step gently and I gaze gently, it feels crucial to be deliberate, that it is the only kind of energy that I can summon.
By the third day I already know my routine. I survived a heavy rain fall the second night, and I spend the third day comforting myself by a smoky fire. There's much fewer places to be on the third day due to the damp ground. The second day, by contrast, was spend lounging in the bear grass up on the hill with my sleeping bag under my head; my sketchbook filling up with sketches and writing. Painting down by the lake a windy and difficult watercolor; sitting in the meadow watching lace wings alight on purple fleabane. Staying up reading in the candle light of the lodge hearing the wind whip through the forest , ruffling up the canopy, bringing in the thunderstorm.
The first day held the best potential for destinations: down through the birch stands beside the lake, scaling steep hills to perch on an old boulder way up in the woods. But by the fourth day, I mostly sat at the camp waiting for my friends to arrive. Waiting to end the fast with the sweatlodge...and never forgetting about the feast to follow! I carved a few spoons from pine branches, made a few paintings, took a nap in my cosy lodge, but mostly I sat, and listened and stared verrry slowwly...