Spicebush

I ate an acorn today and it tasted terrible. I had already worked my way through the shell and pulled out a bit of the meaty inside. As I bit in I could feel the astringency filling my mouth, and immediately I realized - I know what this tastes like! Of course this prompted spitting and cursing on the ground. I have been reading Stalking the Wild Asparagus, a foraging book by survivalist Euell Gibbons from 1962 to get back to my roots as a kid digging in the dirt and eating rotten acorns. So far so good.

I have been drinking this creamy, fizzy fermented milk tonic called kefir for four months every morning along with a fried egg on toast. I love it. My mother introduced me to kefir back in the summer as a way to boost immunity and enjoy milk (a food I’ve avoided for most of my adult life). While the sour-smelling, milky substance she put in front of me was a little off-putting at first, it took a single sip before I wanted to make some. I have come to adore our kefir grains, almost like a pet. A day without a glass of the tonic is a sad day, so we even tend to travel with our kefir. If you haven’t tried it, I strongly suggest you do. And if you live in New York, I may even be able to supply you with your culture!