Economic botany tingles

A couple of years ago, a friend of mine went to India.  She brought me back a beautiful array of spices, most of which I had no idea how to use.  Thanks to an Indian cookbook, and lots of devoted hours, I've gotten the hang of it.  A bit necessary as well, as an entire drawer of our kitchen is devoted to housing them.  I thought about alphabetizing, but I'd never do that.

I've got the "begin of the semester" tingles.  I'm not sure if it's the double espresso or the cold walks to campus, but my "History of Food in America" course is something else.  Something gooooood.  And last week, we learned about spices.

Do you know that the spice trade basically started all overseas exploration?  That the 3 most commonly desired spices were cinnamon, nutmeg and cloves?  That the Portuguese were the first to inflict violence on the Middle Eastern tradesman who believed in fair and peaceful interactions?  Do you realize that economic botany is thought to be the first "real science" and has influenced the entire realm of scientific methodology?

Me neither.  So tingley, like a nice tumeric.

Crumbs in bed

So I've developed a bad habit recently: eating in bed.  This goes against all of my beliefs about eating being a social ritual and my hypocritical approach to table etiquette... but sometimes, when you've got the bed to yourself and the 2nd season of Thirty Rock, eating (and sometimes drinking) in bed seems like the best idea ever.

My favorite restaurant in town, The Blackbird Kitchen, just started their new cafe hours.  The picture above was posted on their facebook account (copyright infringement?) and I found myself day dreaming about the magic of butter.  When my beau brought me home a fresh, flaky croissant after my loooong Saturday morning nanny session with a sick little lady, it was on.  Even though I had a plate, things got messy quick.  Tiny buttery flakes were EVERYWHERE and even merited a shirt change. I was almost embarrassed about the speed of my consumption (almost).  And those new sheets from Santa?  Showered with pastry.

Worth it?  Absolutely.  Motivation to sweet and mop on a Sunday? Possibly.

Luxury Item

I just returned from a fabulous weekend in Red Lodge, Montana.  This quaint little mountain town not only boasted lovely buildings and shops, but is just a short drive from some decent skiing.  Turns out it's much more enjoyable when you've got battery heated boots.

A friend recommended a stop in Babcock and Miles, a fantastic specialty food store who's contents could have easily resulted in late payment of my student fees for the spring semester.  After some deep breathing, I settled on some Pomegranate Molasses, a product I've been searching months for.  Which brings me to another question about sustainability, how often can luxury trump local? 

This molasses, produced in Lebanon, is one of many products I enjoy that will never be produced in Montana.  Coffee, french bucheron, soy sauce, and raw nuts are just a few of the essential products I will never find local.  Even when sustainability is an important part of your consumer conscious, I believe it's okay to let loose.  Sometimes the health benefits outweigh the carbon footprint.  Sometimes you just can't be that fanatical of a locavore.  And sometimes, it just tastes soooo gooooood.

Like Pomegranate molasses, right?