Just like a regular Thursday at noon, I am in line at the caf, trying to choose my food. There is plenty of food, however, there is nothing really good to eat. The pasta have more oil on them that I would ever put on an entire year by cooking pasta. The fish is deeply fried. My guess is that Americans truly have no idea about the existence of steam cooking. At this point, I would give anything to have a steamed salmon on a bed of leeks.
Like every Thursday, I am making myself a salad. Even the salad is average, and I am being nice. How can a salad be frozen ? I do not have time to be picky, I only have 35 minutes chrono to eat. So, I eat my frozen salad, I drink my still water, surrounding by loud people around me. Gosh, I need a break. After seven months in the US, I am not missing France. What I am missing is food, which has become an obscession for me. I am even missing going to the market at home on Saturday picking my fresh ingredients for the week.
I was picturing in my head the idea of my perfect meal last week. Not much actually : A French Baguette and some cheese. Unfortunately, this was not going to happen in Kalamazoo. A real meal – not an exquisite one- was what I was currently missing. This quest for the perfect meal just reminded all the more how much I missed fresh food. On campus, I do not have a home garden filled with tomatoes, cucumbers, carotts, zucchinis, eggplants salads or herbs and spices such as basil, thyme or parsley just like I have at home. Nor do I have a cherry or peach tree. Therefore, what I needed to find were organic fresh ingredients. I figured I just skipped meat or fish, I wanted to go back to the basics. I was actually craving a real green salad and real fruit salad as a dessert. This idea of such a meal -supposedly perfect- will never occured to me back home, however, after six months of unhealthy oil fat food, a break was more than welcomed. Another reason was that for once, I will not be wondering the quantity of corn that I was eating or the amount of antibiotics that was contained in my food. I am in peace with myself on the fact that I knew all this before coming in the US and yet I still came. If I have a third arm growing someday in the future, I know where this comes from. Fresh fruits and vegetables are what I eat everyday back home. Hopefully, my stomach still does remember this.
These past weeks have been rough. I needed a break. When I am irritated, I need two things : be alone and classical music. I was going to have diner by myself, which did not happen in a long time. Even the experience of going shopping made me realized that I needed to get out of campus more often. Being alone was revitalizing. I learned about the food market in Kalamazoo but I wasn't sure how to get there. Buying local would have been a good start for my redemption, but that did not happen. Instead, I went to Meijer's with my list in mind : Organic food, fresh food, fruits and vegetables.
A $23.80 total was more than enough for a single person meal. I bought organic baby greens and organic red and green pears. The nectarines, strawberries, tomatoes as well as the cucumber that I ended up buying were not organic. I changed my mind when I saw the organic prices. I am willing to eat organic food, but not by trippling my budget (and yes, I was missing my home garden). Finally, I fell head over heels for an Evian bottle. The seriousness of the situation is worse than I imagined.
I went back to my empty room, my roomate was gone for the week end. I grabbed my blackberry and put the first song on my classical music playlist, Beethoven's Piano Sonata No. 14 in C♯ minor.
I did not spend five hours fixing my meal. Washing, pealing, cutting, slicing the fruits, squizzing the orange was what I needed to do for my fruit salad to be ready. Then, I started with the dressing ( olive oil , balsamic vinegar, pepper) for my green salad. I washed all my items, I put the baby greens in the bowl, slicced the tomatoes and add them in. I peeled, sliced the cucumber and add the slices in. By the time I was done and that my meal was ready, I started eating. The salad was quite good. I never thought I would say this but I was missing meat. Chiken slices would have been welcomed. The cucumber was firm and tasty. Tomatoes were not juicy enough though. By the time the music was over , it was almost time for my fruit salad and my green tea. The strawberries and nectarines were sweet and juicy, the pears were a little hard but better than expected for off-seasonned products. ( Thankfully, I did not write this on my list, but going back on this point, I should have taken this into account) The juice squeezed from the orange was better than the minutmaid orange juice I am drinking every morning at the cafetaria.
I once wrote that eating is a relaxing, enjoyed and sacred experience. One do not rush, one slowly eat and appreciate the food. I do not take the time to eat anymore, I became Americanized, always running, in a hurry, always rushing somewhere else. After months in the US, my motto « Take the time to enjoy time » is almost gone. I was in the same environnment as everyday, but I somehow lost track of time. Nor was I here, neither in France, I was suspended somewhere in time with my modest but nonetheless tasty meal and classical music when I finally came back on earth. A few strawberries were remaining in my fruit bowl. My cup filled with green tea was empty on Chopin's Prelude No 4.
I must admit, it was the easiest meal ever, but the best one I had for a long time. Sometimes, simpleness can be good. Simplicity was better than the US food I'm eating everyday. The perfect meal is never completely perfect. On which criterion could you say a meal is perfect anyway ? By definition, nothing is perfect, however, I was actually eating someting that tasted like a real salad and plain real fruits. It was not canned fruits or bleached salad. Nor was it roquefort, foie gras or a fancy French meal. Do not misunderstand me, I am still drooling over those things. But this mere meal was exactly what I needed. It did not even last an entire evening, but this hideaway was beneficial for me. It was my own moment, the calm before the storm. My escape in time. My necessary solitary experience. For all those reasons, my meal was striving to perfection to me.
PS : While finishing typing this piece, accompagnied by the Symphony #40 K. 550 in G minor by Mozart, I am telling myself that I should really do this more often.
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