Author: Brooke Ritchie

Demystifying Tea Ceremony with Mikki Sage

Magic + Makers “The secret of life is to always leave a little room for poetry” – Massimo Bottura You might hear of sound baths, reiki healing, or intimate women-only tea ceremonies and know nothing of this world. One that, once experienced, seems temporary – like a fantastical dream where Marilyn Monroe is your suburban neighbor and you two go to baseball games together (yes, I’ve had that dream, and recently). I’m here to tell you all-women tea ceremonies are very real, and flourish in a place that exists not within a lucid dream, but on the busy streets of...

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Hoshigaki | The Patient Art of Watching Persimmons Dry

For the last five weeks, my apartment has been decorated with wrinkled Hachiya persimmons. Drying naturally for over a month, Hoshigaki are Japanese dried persimmons, a celebration of the fall season, a gathering of tiny pretty orange suns in your window. Beginning with the unripe, tannic orange fruits and air-drying for something like five slow weeks, it was in my fifth week of patiently waiting the sugars began to crystalize on the surface of my persimmon, giving them a frosted appeal in our mild southern California winter (this is the closest I’m getting to snow this season). How to...

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Rainbow Cherry Tomato Confit | Kitchen Witch

Tomatoes, for me, are the foundation of many meals from my growing years. My grandfather, an Italian immigrant to Australia in the late 50s, maintained a lifestyle that was beautifully Italian in the face of a sometimes unaccepting colonial Australia. We practiced long, lazily coursed meals that simply honored the seasonal and homegrown fruits and vegetables, with no special attention to superfoods, just simply food, enjoyed together, never rushing and with much conversation. The tomato is a chameleon, creator; it’s divine – a canvas for much bolder flavor, the co-conspirator, the star, and the chorus. If God were edible...

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Steamed Asparagus with Tahini Dressing and Black Sesame Oil

Like a child at the dinner table, I leave the stubs – the tough base of asparagus spears – floating in a paint storm of black sesame oil and tahini dressing. The bright green steamed spears sit fat and happy in a nutty-salty drizzle of sesame. Mmm.  I’ve become patient enough this year to practice the ritual of steaming vegetables, and asparagus is best when she’s briefly steamed, until glowing green, holding within her the sweet and temporary spirit of spring. Asparagus is cut from the crown of the plant, like a grass, and revisited once a year for her succulent stems. Selecting...

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