Sometimes there is no rhyme or reason for why we do the things we do. We just do them, naturally, without a thought. Oftentimes leaping into the unknown is a crazy thing, but then there are those times when it can end up being a revelation full of discovery and renewal. I’m thinking of several times recently where this came into conversation. In my case this morning, I did plan on going to the farmers’ market, so I went. I did not plan on finding hot apple cider, but I did, and I drank some.
As the forecasted breeze snaked its way in and around the stalls, across the lettuce, tamales and jars of bacon jam and straight through the bones of the purveyors, I nearly skipped along sipping my cider while enjoying every chilled knuckle, every hair out of place and every step my no-more-summer boots took.
I sat in the sun, said a few hellos, and bought nothing but my cider. Nothing else grabbed me. Plus, I knew I had a ton of gently ignored goodies at home. It was more to escape this laptop and enjoy the fresh air and the hope that our 80-degree days had passed. But this is Louisiana. Who am I kidding?
With ‘no rhyme or reason’ on my mind, once back home, I proceeded to grab a little this and a little that from my fridge and see what creation I might come up with. Eggs, onions, leftover chicken, broccoli? (ok, sure, green is good) and yogurt. From the pantry, with no cannellini beans in sight, I instead pulled out a can of chickpeas. For spice, zatar, sumac, herbed sea salt and lemon pepper. After chopping, sautĂ©ing, mixing and poaching, this is what I came up with:
Oh yeah, I added feta at the end too. Was it a disaster? No. Would I make the leap again? Yes, but with a few tweaks. Either turn the chickpeas into hummus or stick with cannellini beans. Or maybe just scratch that and make a biscuit. Perhaps exchange the broccoli for brussels sprout leaves. And sorry to those friends who aren’t egg fans, they stay. But otherwise, the world did not end in disaster, and both my belly and palate are satisfied. Nap time. Bon appĂ©tit.