Thursday, 13 May 2010

Simple Things

Last night some friends and I decided to brave the Veritas Forum, a Christian organisation begun at Harvard that hosts discussion forums to engage with 'life's hardest questions'.

Needless to say, opposite John Haldane (Professor of philosophy and Director of the Centre for Ethics, Philosophy and Public Affairs at the University of St. Andrews), Christopher Hitchens (Vanity Fair columnist and author of God is Not Great: How Religion Poisons Everything) was on the defensive.

Hitchens's penchant for emotive hyperbole didn't necessarily serve to illuminate one's understanding of deeper, ontological conundrums, but he proved, nonetheless, to be a thoughtful and entertaining opponent of Professor Haldane's argument for religion's presence in the 'public square'.

The discussion veered away from doctrine--a credit to both speakers--and centred on experience and humanist common ground. Which, in turn, left me compelled not by either set of convictions, but, rather, brimming with more questions. Don't worry--I won't be sharing those here!

This is where a vain attempt at seamless transition is made: In the presence of these burly complexities, I find I have, of late, made attempts to simplify some quotidian things, and food did not escape the minimising zeal.

Simple reached sublime last week when the urge to splurge saw me walk into Gluttons on Walton Street and emerge with rosemary 'Lingue', olives, a bottle of prosecco, local cherry tomatoes and fresh basil, and--the piece de resistance--Windrush Valley wild garlic fresh goats' cheese. The tomatoes were chopped and promptly tossed with salt, pepper, olive oil and torn basil; more than one glass of prosecco was poured; and I consumed nearly an entire round of cheese in one sitting. Each element complimented the other, and none of the preparation could really be called cooking.

The rest of the tomatoes and basil then became caprese.

Another recent, memorable weeknight dinner was an interpretation of 'Sake-Steamed Sea Bass with Ginger and Green Onion'. Well, my version ended up being Mirin-Steamed Salmon Ginger and Garlic', but it was no-fuss and delicious. I ate the left-overs cold for lunch, with couscous and a salad.

(an improvised steamer)

I'm not certain out of what this need to simplify came. Perhaps, now that summer is daring to actually unfold in the coming weeks, there's an inclination to eat 'clean', fresh food. Perhaps, when everything else in life seems to refuse order, placing a round, plump orb of fresh cheese, amongst oblong moons of tomatoes and olives, the cosmos becomes clearer.

No comments: