video via youtube

I am going through something of a music revolt. In the past, I had made a habit of listening to music that hastily pulsated in my head, heart and veins. The purpose of doing so, it seems, was to bring my energies up to a level that mirrored the frenetic beat. A tactic that was incredibly useful when I had a houseful of chores to get done and nary the strength to do much of anything at all.

But such a heightened pace often led to a prolonged state of vivacity, the antithesis of relaxation.

So a change was needed. It quickly became apparent that my choice of music had to be reevaluated to achieve calm. Sure, I still have to get things done, but for once in my life, I am trying to do it..calmly. And here I am – a 12th of the way through 2012, enforcing the habit of listening to the congenial sounds of Fleet Foxes and Band of Horses to name just two. I have found the results intriguing. Yes, I am calmer, but I have also been more forgiving and open minded. My food { as this is a blog about food }, has been more experimental, filled with fresher produce and slight in portion.

My kitchen hums at all hours. Not just for breakfast, lunch or dinner. But late into the evening – prepping ingredients for the next day or creating sauces, staples for weeks to come. My evening kitchen is lit dimly { another experiment – avoiding overhead light }, less cluttered and accented with a cup or glass of some beverage or the other while I tinker around its familiar space.

While this song by Fleet Foxes is not explicitly about an actual kitchen, it’s tone reflects the feel that permeates my evening kitchen. It’s texture mirrors the essentials I concoct in this small space. So enjoy the music, your weekend and the desire to cook late in the day, in your Evening Kitchen.

I fought, of course, with words and sometimes deeds. I was a scrappy wretch after all, and goodness knows I love dinner. But after a while, one came to accept that procrastination begot deprivation and either ate hastily or accepted that one would be obliged to ‘share’ their plate with the quicker and hungrier.

When I grew up, to share a meal took on a new meaning. Working for pittance-per-hour garnered a modest wage, and meant that college lunchtimes at the pub would only be affordable if you split the cost and consumption of your fish n’ chips with your English Lit classmate who hopefully wasn’t as peckish as you. But it was these countless hours at the pub that also introduced me to a new avenue of sharing – that of the heart, the mind and soul.

I learned a lot about my fellow classmates at the pub. It wasn’t the pints talking..but rather the psychological comfort that a satisfied stomach and reassuring four walls of a pub offered. I find that often when one refers to food and it’s ‘effects’ on the body, many presume on the powers of Tryptophan and the pleasing response of Serotonin. But there is more to it than just a chemical response. Eating has been a communal activity from primeval times – an inevitable gathering to share in a similar act. Engaging in such an activity with others opens one up to the idea of sharing more than bread. They are after all eyewitnesses to ones consciously ingesting foreign objects of nutritional value { one hopes }, into ones body. An incredibly personal act in a public space if you over think it. It’s only right..that one would then share things that pertain to the more external personal aspects of ones life.

I will never forget the pub lunch when I learned that Xaviera wasn’t a mouthy, back talking, classroom rabble rouser because she was obnoxious, but rather because she was never granted the chance to set roots and establish close friendships because of her father’s frequently relocating career. She was scared, fragile and shy. Her apparent overbearing demeanour her way of protecting herself. An act of self preservation. Her truth she revealed to us as we chomped our way through some sort of pie and pint. I never saw her in the same light again. Her menace diminished. She was…real.

Then I grew some more. Pub lunches were replaced with ‘dinners’ at friends houses or restaurants with cloth for napkins. Pints gave way to wine glasses or sturdy tumblers swishing with old fashioned’s. The sophistication and nutritional value of the meals also improved as did the quality and freeness of conversation. I’ve always been a shy one { much to the shock of those who don’t know me as one of six }, and love to listen, observe, yet only occasionally speak. But over time the willingness to share was indulged. The passing of years had increased the frequency of wounds in ones life and the salve that was granted through honest talk assuaged the sore.

I have fond memories, and lasting friendships from night’s such as this – learning what hurt, healed and may never be gotten over. Sharing the same. Occasionally, out of defiance there would be a refusal to share. A firmly closed lipped act of rebellion. But the allure of a judgement free zone would eventually coax out a sentence or two that would run freely around the room like a caged beast accidentally freed.

I can only wonder how this apportioning of secrets, feelings, words will evolve as I continue to grow and my life changes. Life’s penchant for cyclical behaviour implies that what started as a life literally sharing at the familial dinner table will end the same. But if there is one thing I’ve learned is never to presume to assume, { my life has a rather dark-humoured way of not doing what one would expect }. Scratch that, if there is one thing I’ve learned, it’s to protect one’s plate at all times. Even during father’s prayer.

One thing I love as much as food is a good, fancy wedding! The lovely ladies at Reverie Magazine asked me to write a piece about weddings, New York and what else but eats?!

screengrab via reverie magazine

The debut issue of this UK based wedding mag went live TODAY and is simply stunning! Dresses, bowties, whimsy and grace! Be sure to check out my article on page 240, and the rest of the magazine here.
{ Thank you Kate and Mary – xx }

The ‘be a locavore‘ page has been updated with what’s in season across the United States for the first quarter of 2012!. Check it out! Happy Cooking!

Kinfolk Mag – Dusk Supper from Son of Shark Pig on Vimeo.

It’s simply gorgeous and embodies the feel and principles of a few supper experiences that are on my to-do list to create in 2012. Enjoy!

When I was a kid I used to dream boisterously, frequently and most creatively. I chalked it up to all the adventure filled, fantastical books I pored over on a daily basis, coupled with an ever creative school curriculum. It produced an over active imagination, { the one thing I didn’t lose growing up..much to the chagrin of some!}. Mostly aware of when I was in a dreamlike state I would control the elements of my dream. I could pause them at will, continue where I left off the next day or days after and I could always, always fly.

Then one day the dreams just stopped.

Now they are back and I am waking exhausted yet abuzz. The first thing I do every day is text a friend and tell her what I dreamt – like a person learning a new language who is excited to share the verb they perfectly conjugated.

But me being me, one of my recent dreams involved a kitchen. The broader narrative is that I was living in Paris, in an artist studio and creating…just creating whatever came to my mind and heart. I was a visual artist, perhaps a painter. Which is laughable because I have never been good at drawing or painting. However, there was a distinct moment in the dream where I saw the kitchen and paused. It was modest, makeshift, loft like, with lots of raw materials – woods, steel and brick. It was rustic and yet beautiful.

I have searched high and low for a picture of a kitchen that even barely touches on what I saw in my dream and have been unable to find one. I did find one that contained elements of what I imagined, albeit a lot more polished and stylin’.

image via apartment modern

In my dream the kitchen was underneath the loft mezzanine, much like this one. The metal work was dark and the floors concrete. This apartment has a lovely, rich dark wood floor but it gives off the same feel as the space I imagined.

image via apartment modern

Brick walls, wood counters and metalwork were textures that all stood out distinctly in my dream. This space is decidedly more polished than the one I envisioned. My space was a live/work space so the sink washed both dishes and dirty paintbrushes. The kitchen had to be less than precious.

image via apartment modern

This bold, mod-ish side board meets liquor cabinet was not in my dream. But, a unique accessory such as this is a bold punch of whimsy. It reminds me of the spirit of imagination, the dare to dream – to let ones mind wander and willingly form abstract ideas.

I must say that I can’t quite ever remember the world as a whole receiving a new year with as much fanfare as this here, brand, spanking new 2-0-1-2. One friend summed up the reason behind it well: ‘ 2011 was quite possibly one of the most awful years everyone has experienced to date’. Saying good riddance to those frightful memories, hurt feelings and worry was quite possibly the catharsis that many felt they needed. I am a self confessed perennial optimist and as such am refusing to write a blog post that looks back at all the things that resulted in sleeplessness, heartburn, weeping or wonder. Rather I am choosing to simply start again from the beginning.

There have already been and will continue to be some changes on cravenmaven.com in 2012. As you may have noticed in recent weeks – a lot less posting has been going on. This has been due to many reasons, amongst which include projects with Kinfolk magazine { do you have volume II yet?? }, taking things slow in all aspects of my life and also in an effort to produce higher quality content.

My love affair with food and words really came into it’s own in 2011 { thank you all those who believe in me and love my words }, so I am going to endeavour to write in the way I feel as that is the most honest thing to do. It may mean less posts but I hope you will enjoy it nonetheless. Never fear though! I will still post the fun, silly things that I come across.

a sampling of the goodness i’ve recently posted on instagram

Also, if you just need more and more of me and have an IPhone, I HIGHLY recomend you follow me on Instagram. I am a somewhat prolific IG’er and post many pictures of what I am cooking or eating among other things.

I have some really exciting and challenging food related goals for 2012 that I cannot wait to get started on. So keep your eyes keen – it’s going to be a good!

I missed a flight the other day.

It sounds simple enough and to some may be a regular occurrence in their life but for me it was huge. See, I’ve been traveling since I was born, and in those thirty some odd years I have never ever missed a plane, bus, train, coach, rickshaw, car or wake up call. Then last week in the most innocuous way possible I missed my flight home. After the dust settled a new friend stated ‘NOW you are beginning to have adventure in your life’. Adventure of a different breed. Her words caused the dusty cog’s in my brain started churning…how could I translate adventure to food?

The words adventure and food in the same sentence quickly invoke the mental image of Anthony Bourdain and his lack of reservation when trying ingredients many would dub controversial. But one doesn’t have to break the boundaries of convention to have adventure in their diet as all it is defined as is an exciting or very unusual experience.

Off the top of my head my first thoughts is to make it a goal to incorporate ingredients into my diet that I have never tried or shied away from { with the exception of meat of course}. To eat cheeses unpasteurised, drink milk fresh from a cow, sample peppers unspeakably hot and nibble grains that look too healthy to be tasty..It will take work to do research but I feel that it could be incredibly rewarding. Add to this to cook and sample cuisine from cultures one doesn’t usually gravitate to. What does a Maori, Bolivian, Cote D’Ivorian or Fijian eat when they are peckish? Why haven’t I tried their fare? What about growing my own produce in an allotment?

There are so many ways I can go with this and if you have any ideas I’d love to hear them as I assemble ideas for how I can make my plate more adventurous in 2012.

video via youtube

I am traveling this week, and while it is taking longer than usual.. one feature that remains a constant in my life is good coffee. I love the stuff and quite frankly, find it difficult to understand those who don’t. I must admit, ‘coffee’ and ‘good coffee’ are two wholly different things and too many people drink BAD coffee.
While on the road I have made room for a coffee a day and some – it literally relaxes my shoulders and pushes my brain to the ON switch. I have at times wondered what would happen if it were outlawed..perhaps a Mad Max type dystopia, with coffee beans as currency…
Anyway, for this week’s musical interlude, I thought it only fitting to select the song One more cup of Coffee by The White Stripes. Enjoy the music, drink good coffee and be well!

This song is for a fave of a special friend of mine whose been a bit under the weather of late. So I thought it only fitting to post this song by one of her fellow Mobile, Alabama natives. All I can say is, if I were to have a cheeseburger, I can think of nowhere else I’d want to have it than in paradise. Enjoy the music and have a great weekend!