Showing posts with label Audrey Hepburn. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Audrey Hepburn. Show all posts

8.10.2009

How To Be Lovely {Mulberry Crush, part II}


l.i.c., ny

There are hazards to the constant pursuit of good food. Unfortunately, many of them are cosmetic. In my case, these cosmetic pitfalls show up under my nail beds, which are often dyed or dirty from the soil in my garden, the peeling of beets, or the picking of berries.

Today, I noticed this circumstance had traveled to my toes. As I looked down to find deep purple mulberries crushed into the space between my toes, I couldn’t help but think of Audrey Hepburn.

Audrey was lovely in every way. My sisters and I have a saying that we use amongst ourselves when someone needs a gentle reminder to be more lady-like. We simply say, “What would Audrey do?”

It’s possible it started when my sister Jenny caught me licking my fingers at a celebratory meal during sorority initiation back in college. At the time, she scolded me, slapped my fingers away from my lips and handed me a cloth napkin to blot the corners of my mouth. A few weeks later I received a package in the mail from Amy, our oldest sister. In it was the book How to Be Lovely: The Audrey Hepburn Way of Life.

In those years, I’ve kept this book full of Audreyisms nearby as a guiding force that helps me inch one step closer to the delicate flower I was born to be.

“My mother taught me to stand straight, sit erect, use discipline with wine and sweets and to smoke only six cigarettes a day,” Audrey said.

My mother taught me that cookies are best hot and fresh from the oven.

Still, we may be more alike than one might think. Audrey loved her garden, and all things green.

“When I didn’t have a dime, I held to the dream of one day having my own orchard with fruit trees and a place to grow vegetables,” she said.

See, we’re practically twins! I suppose Audrey wore gloves while working in her garden, but even so I found this similarity comforting. Perhaps I could be lovely after all.

There’s nothing lovely at all, however, about walking home from Costco with a super-size pack of Charmin in plain sight, and using it to climb up into the mulberry tree on the way home only to slip off into the grass that was wet with smashed mulberries. That, dear readers, is how I found myself with mulberries in my toes. At that moment, I had to ask myself, “What would Audrey do?”

I’d like to believe Audrey would gather her composure, climb back up on the 24-pack of Charmain and pick every remaining mulberry from that tree. She would take them home and would crush them in a blender with some simple syrup and fresh mint and fashion them into one very elegant mulberry popsicle for the one she loved. And, if she didn’t have popsicle molds {which most likely she didn’t}, she would freeze the popsicle directly in a champagne flute {made of plastic, since she would know that glass might crack in the freezer}. She would deliver this popsicle sweetly to her dearest love, and bat her doe-eyes at him as he praised her gentle ways.

Or, she might just save this popsicle for herself, and eat it when no one was watching, sucking out the deep purple juices until her mouth was stained. It’s hard to say.

“People seem to have this fixed image of me. In a way, I think it’s very sweet, but it’s also a little sad,” Audrey once said. “After all, I’m a human being. When I get angry, I sometimes swear.”

I bet she even got her hands a little dirty once in a while.

5.25.2009

Storied Seeds

When it comes to matters of wine and seeds, I'm anything but practical (well, when it comes to most matters, I'm anything but practical). There was a time, when I served wine from his & her cellars as a private chef in St. Tropez, that my choice of wines was dictated by the components of a dish, a Wine Spectator rating or the fashionable wine region d'jour. These days, I'm guided by admittedly more emotional principles. Namely beauty (a winemaker who has the good taste to create a lovely label must certainly care about the quality of their wine), narrative (a captivating story or name) and vintage (...the best improve with age).

It occurred to me today that I apply the same principles to choosing seeds for my garden. I give an almost romantic significance to the name, origin and story of each herb or vegetable before I decide to give it a home. With seeds, it is the narrative that seems to win in the end. My imagination is easily fed by the epic names of many Heirloom (seeds introduced before the 1940s) varieties, like Russian Giant (garlic), Purple Beauties (Peppers) and Sultan's Crescent (beans), that seem to harken an Edenic paradise I pine to create.

My latest acquisition, a Raphanus Sativa from the gardens of Thomas Jefferson at Monticello, is a perfect illustration of impracticality. May weather dictates that radish season is almost over, and my garden has not an inch of spare soil for growing them until the fall. Yet I couldn't resist. The timeless illustration on the seed packet had me captivated, as did the fact that the seeds hail from the curatorial collection of Jefferson's 200-plus-year-old gardens that included 330 varieties of vegetables. Add to that the name, China Rose (Winter Radish), which conjures an Audrey Hepburn delicacy, and I'm taken. Completely and utterly without the will to resist.

It's all I can do to actually plant these seeds, and risk tarnishing the little packet with my dirty fingers. I'd far rather frame them, immortalize them along with a half-a-dozen sentimental wine labels that include a bottle I drank with my brother on a rooftop in Athens, the pink champagne from my 21st birthday and the first bottle of Chateau Neuf du Pape my father gave me that we drank on the eve of my wedding. But Jefferson, though poetic, was a man who wrote canons for practicality. Practicality dictates that I will plant the seeds, and in time, they will become a part of a simple, satisfying meal for my beloved and me.

In the meantime, I'm happy to walk my fine line between food and fairy tale as I discover new seed sources like Seed Savers Exchange, Southern Exposure Seed Exchange and Twin Leaf (the label behind the 50,000 packets of seeds produced at Jefferson's Monticello). And, as it turns out, my principles aren't altogether impractical after all. Heirloom seeds (aka. Vintage), which produce the kind of ugly beauties that romantics go crazy for in farmer's markets, are often more flavorful and heartier than modern-day seeds, having survived centuries of natures wrath. A practically perfect reason to stick to my principles.


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New York City, United States
Sarah Copeland is a food and lifestyle expert, and the author of Feast: Generous Vegetarian Meals for Any Eater and Every Appetite, and The Newlywed Cookbook. She is the Food Director at Real Simple magazine, and has appeared in numerous national publications including Saveur, Health, Fitness, Shape, Martha Stewart Living and Food & Wine magazines. As a passionate gardener, Sarah's Edible Living philosophy aims to inspire good living through growing, cooking and enjoying delicious, irresistible whole foods. She thrives on homegrown veggies, stinky cheese and chocolate cake. Sarah lives in New York with her husband and their young daughter.