Mushroom Camp, Fancy Food Show, Then Life

Even though I wrote right here on my blog that I was going to bring my camera to mushroom camp, I managed to forget it. It's probably a good thing that I did because there was so much work to do that I would not likely have had time to use it. My friend Ellen snapped the one photo that I wanted of me with Saul and Moon Planits (aliases), featured here. It's not everyday that you meet people with such unusual names, but SOMA mushroom camp is that kind of place. If I'd had more time out of the kitchen, it's likely that I would have discovered other interesting people.

I actually managed to get out to a class taught by Christopher Hobbs, L.Ac. on how to make medicinal mushroom tinctures but it was just then that I realized that we had to count bowls which would hold all the darned condiments for our outrageously complicated-to-prepare-and-cook Asian street food meal, put together by Mycochef Patrick Hamilton, pictured with me below, in a pretty unflattering but "real" photo. So, sitting in a class didn't really work for me and I didn't make it out of the kitchen much but the meal got rave reviews.

We had an incredible team of volunteers, too many to mention so forgive me if I haven't included your name (you know that I adore all the volunteer "kitchen slaves"), who worked their butts off. Below is Andy ("The Toolman") Still and his wife Gayle. Andy brought his industrial strength Robot Coupe with more blades than I ever knew existed. That machine saved us from kitchen failure and melt down although we know now that those blades are very, very sharp. Nothing further shall be mentioned regarding this or any other things that needed nursing.

Included here is also a kind of dark photo of me with my dear friend Dee, who does incredible hand reading, and is a force to be reckoned with in the kitchen. All photos by my "right hand woman" Ellen. I know that I ought to have some food photos but those will hopefully show up somewhere else, like on the SOMA Mushrooms website but nothing yet (or I've just been too busy to check).

Sunday night I left Mushroom Camp in a heavy downpour (both myself and the weather), ready for my bed at home, and the next day working on writing assignments at The Fancy Food Show at Moscone in San Francisco.

I had hoped to see, and stay with, my friend Sonnie but the weather (still raining) and my mood (both a bit wet and bedraggled) didn't allow that. I walked the show floor all day, missing a number of interesting items as I was focused on my story leads about beverages and cheese (of all things). And, once again, I forgot my camera. I ought to have it somehow surgically implanted so that it goes with me everywhere.

I managed to test out the chocolates, grains, gluten-free products (in abundance), agave (how many kinds can there really be? At least 2, I found out - white and blue.) and popcorn. It looks like popcorn is the latest, greatest "new" snack food. At the end of the day, I was ready to head back home for a fairly quiet week of work.

And I got that for a few days until Thursday afternoon when my 16-year old son called to tell me that he needed a ride home and that he likely needed to go straight to the hospital to have his appendix out. So, I picked him up, took him to Kaiser Permanente and we spent 6 hours in the emergency room, minus a short time in radiology for a CAT scan to determine that, yes, he did need his appendix removed, an hour in surgery pre-op, an hour post-op and at about 3 am we made it to a patient room, where my uncomfortable son tossed and turned in a hospital bed while his exhausted mother slept in a most uncomfortable chair for a few hours. When I awoke, I drove home to rest for a while and gather my thoughts.

Son is resting uncomfortably at home now, and I had a most remarkable deep sleep last night. I guess that somehow hard work pays off and you never know what the reward will be. I am grateful for the little things -- health, sleep, air, a roof over my head, the sunshine, rainbows, and so much more. May your next week be less eventful.

Life is for the Living and You'll Be A Long Time Dead

I know that this blog is about food but it's also about life and living it well. And despite the fact that I am a Registered Dietitian, writer and a host of other things (some of which I will not discuss), I may have missed my calling in the philosophy department. In all my years of school I did not take one philosophy class but somehow I manage to espouse my ideas almost daily.

The title of this post however is dedicated to my father who just passed away last week. Those were his words, and with that in mind, I'd like to share a little bit about my Dad, Bernie.

Bernie loved to eat, and when you look at photos of him over the years, you can tell when he really liked to eat food that was not very good for him, as he looked heavy. When he was in his 50s, he likely had a silent heart attack, confirmed later by doctors. He wanted to know what to do so my sister sent him Dr. Dean Ornish's first book on reversing heart disease.

My father was a voracious reader and a bit of a fanatic, so he followed Ornish's advice for quite some time. After doing so when he went back to the doctor, he'd managed to regrow capillaries to his heart. My Dad was also into exercise and used the Nordic Track like a madman for many years.

He'd often ask me for advice regarding what to eat and saw how I followed a vegetarian diet and leaned in that direction.

Luckily as he got older, he slowed down just a bit on the exercise and got a dog, a Boston terrier named Sweetie, that he walked daily until just a few months ago. He also mowed the lawn often, which was a lot of work on more than an acre of property.

After the Ornish plan, my Dad ate pretty well, including lots of fresh food, made by my mother who likes to cook and has a garden. A few years ago, I sent my father a copy of The China Study by Colin Campbell. He then adopted a vegan diet, and said that he felt better than ever. And that might have been true for awhile.

Last year he was diagnosed with prostate cancer. If his doctors had been paying attention, they would have likely caught the cancer earlier as my Dad's PSA level was elevated. He also had GI problems, caused by a hospital stay, and likely needed Vitamin B12 shots but didn't receive those either.

The moral of this story is as Sandy Lewis, MD, the cardiologist from Portland, who shared the Super Shuttle to the Denver airport as I left to go to the funeral, said, "No one gets out alive."

So, I encourage you to treat each day as if it could be your last. Find something to be grateful for, appreciate the people around you, and enjoy fresh food, clean air (if you've got it), nature, your pets, your work, and life in general. There are no bad days, just some are better than others. They all give perspective and a frame of reference.

When I'd ask my Dad how things were going, he'd usually say, "It's better than the alternative." When he stopped saying anything like that, I knew what was in store. The end isn't usually easy, so in the words of Jennifer Stone of KPFA radio, "Go easy. And if you can't go easy, go as easy as you can."

Bernie reminded his 3 daughters that life is not a popularity contest but that kindness, generosity and sharing wisdom all count. And I hope that what I've shared with you today has an impact in some way.

Smile, enjoy, live well -- it's the best revenge.