Posts tagged salad
Spring Kale Salad with Beet Tahini Dressing, in spite of everything (RECIPE)

My friend Alice is currently giving her apartment a makeover. In introducing new life forms into the space, she’s been mulling over buying a very nice white rug that while beautiful, is prone to spots and stains. It’s going in the living room, where people convene with their red-hued adult beverages that spill when too much of these beverages have been consumed.

“I need to just eat on my dining table,” she said, determined to work around the rug of her dreams. “Yup. But if you like eating on it, you have to get another rug,” I reminded her.

Alice’s rug dilemma is symbolic. We’ve all faced similar decisions. Not necessarily related to interior decorating. But we’ve had to choose between the safe option and our heart’s desire, which always seems to be the riskier option. And no matter how prepared we feel to take that risk, we know there will be unavoidable pitfalls along the way. But also, we come closer to achieving great happiness in doing what we want and having the life (or rug) we want.

Read More
Coast through life with this Hibiscus Apple and Cabbage Salad with Fish Sauce Dressing (Recipe)

Some people are masters of change. I’m not. Despite appearances, like my tendency to switch jobs and cycle through boyfriends as quickly as I update my coiffe, I’m actually freaked out by the things I can’t control. Instead of resignation, I resist. Instead of acceptance, I deny. There’s a reason why I’m so fanatically addicted to daily horoscopes, WebMD, and self-help books. And those warning labels on cigarette packs. The British ones are the best, by the way, with those photos of ashy, rotting lungs. The more brutal the prognosis, the better prepared I am.

Six years ago I was fired from a job. My boss and I really didn’t get along, and on top of that, I was grossly overpaid. Instead of letting the horror movie play out, I concluded way early on that she’d eventually let me go. For months thereafter, I’d show up at work with my shoulders slumped, rocking a perma-frown. It was the world’s longest professional breakup. And of course, she did gave me the boot. Looking back, could I have been less miserable every day leading up to the inevitable? Probably. Did anticipating the inevitable soften the blow? Nope.

Read More