We all were in favor of a relaxing holiday week with plenty of food, drink, conversation, and song. After almost three weeks of travel and landing in Chicago on Christmas Day, being still was a gift itself. Half of Onion Dip had been in the …
This morning’s family media club discussion focused on a special episode of High on the Hog, “Defiance”, that features my hometown of Atlanta. Public history is always personal history. In this case, the episode highlighted places and people near and dear to my heart: the …
Back in high school, my love for history was fed by many but especially by one teacher. Her knowledge spanned millennia and she shared it with us through literature, music, art, her stories, and even food. Ancient Greece and Rome, the Middle Ages, and more. Eventually, we made it to the Dutch and their dominance in trade of all types. I was most fascinated by the “Tulip Mania” period in 17th century Netherlands.
An entire country went absolutely mad for tulips. This was a wild time of speculation: a bundle of bulbs was a prince’s ransom. At its peak in early 1637, the most precious single bulbs sold for more than ten times the salary of an experienced artisan. My sixteen-year old self could think of little else for days. How could people get so caught up in the ephemeral moment of plants?
Ten years ago in a Georgian restaurant in Moscow, I had my own plant mania. After multiple courses of some of the most delicious food, I ordered sea buckthorn tea. Expecting a cup of black tea infused with an unknown ingredient, I was completely entranced when a glass teapot filled with a golden elixir was placed in front of me. It was like the color of Meyer lemons, marigolds, kumquats, and the sun; it tasted like that, too.
On and off over the next ten years, I searched in vain for this drink. Nothing lived up to that promise. Where did it grow? Near the sea? Could it grow in Chicago?
When I headed to Central Asia last month to convene with other artists from around the world, little did I expect to rekindle my love of this nectar in Kyrgyzstan. Hours after arriving in Bishkek, I was reunited with this extraordinary tea. It was glorious. This time, however, I wasn’t alone. Each person who shared a pot with me, fell hard. We dreamt of growing it back here and laughed as our interest hit a fevered pitch. There was the simple brew that I had first encountered in Russia a decade ago. Every day was different, though. Sometimes there was the surprise of fresh raspberries, mint, orange slices, tiny strawberries or even rosemary. Here’s to enjoying something fanatically with others!
Who tells the stories? Legend has it that the Greek god of the Underworld, Hades, desired the young Persephone, goddess of Spring. So he asked his brother, Zeus, if he could have her as his ”bride”. Will it surprise you to know that Persephone was …
When friends become friends because of the most (un)likely series of events. As always, it began with coffee and seeds.
A few years ago, I started a “Paired Up” musical playlist and it still remains on active rotation. The list’s theme is how two songs, regardless of genre, time, language, or geography, can be connected. Maybe one is straightforward such as a newer cover of an older tune. Maybe there’s a musical sample, a line, or a reference. Something about these two songs longed to be connected.
A few favorites are
Stevie Wonder’s Knocks Me Off My Feet and ODB’s Shimmy Shimmy Ya
Lauryn Hill’s Lost Ones and Drake’s Nice for What
Desmond Dekker’s 007 and Special Ed’s I’m the Magnificent
Interestingly, Special Ed’s one is part of a trio since it flows from Dave Barker and Ansel Collins’s Double Barrel, too!
There is magic; it is the coupling. As I listen to two terrific songs in sequence, the listening is deliberate, intentional. I can’t help but listen out for sparks. Are there more references, more connections than the initial ones? Why did the second artist choose this particular work of inspiration? Somehow, I hear more with this playlist. There is indeed magic.
Speaking of the strength of coupling, I’m reminded of our DNA and its gazillions of pairings that guide so much of who we are. I’m not gonna sit up here and weigh into the nature vs nurture debate. Instead, I’ll remind myself that so much of what I like is because of the influence of my dad. Many of my fondest memories of him are through music, whether he and I belted out the lyrics of a favorite song, him tapping to the beat on any surface, or dancing the night away.
Recently, we spent our time reveling in our shared musical legacy at the exquisite National Museum of African American History and Culture. With gallery upon gallery in front of us, our entire visit was about music. Being there myself was wonderful enough but experiencing it with him (and my always-curious Mom) amplified the experience, much liked that beloved playlist.
What isn’t better together?
Whether it’s chatting over drinks, laughing between a spoonful of Hawaiian ice, delving deeply over the most exquisite dishes or tasting everything our world has to offer, I love being with my parents. Recently, we hit the ground running. Well, that’s what we always do.
From the August Archives
My grandmama was named Lillian and every time I see lilies, I am wrapped up in her warm embrace. With the exception of my mom, no one has taught me more about the pleasure of food and sharing it with others.
One of my most vivid memories is making peach pies together, touching and pressing pastry dough between my tiny fingers, as I learned what to do to make the flakiest and most delicious pie. But making food with love was just the first step. The heart of it was the sharing. Doesn’t food taste even better while eating with others?
Being from Atlanta, there was never a shortage of peaches. Whether famously marking our city’s streets or filling Varsity pies, peaches are everywhere. Thank goodness.
Today I headed to the Urban Growers Collective South Chicago farm where I saw old friends and met new ones. Along the way, sweet Malcolm, the farm manager, took me on a tour and shared what had grown since my last visit in early June.
What abundance!
