a friendly wrap

A cell phone first became part of my life when I was 24-years-old in 2006. I think I was the last person of all of my friends ever in my life to own one, and then it took me several more months to get a phone plan. I still have a basic Nokia; there are no iPhones in our family, no iPads, nothing technologically fancy but we are avid laptop users. If I added up the hours I spent on email, Facebook, other friends’ blogs and skype, it would probably be more hours than time I spend with people who live in Geneva. I suspect I am not the only one in the Western world who finds herself in these circumstances, unless Geneva is a particularly unique place in the way it can isolate people.

I am a fortunate woman to have known many priceless friends during my short life. So many of my most precious life memories are connected to these relationships. Bon Jovi, Sonic, laughter, Wal Mart, midnight trips to Wal Mart, crocheting, 80s music, sewing, brunch, poached eggs, good coffee, strong hugs, driving, acceptance, Tim McGraw, road trips, deep conversations, praying in cars, running on hay bales, a love for travel, four wheelers, late-night editing sessions, love and trust. Each life left an imprint on mine, and their absence is a painful void in my heart.

No amount of Skyping, Facebook or email is a substitute for real relationships, and I often wonder if these social media constructs that are supposed to make sustaining our relationships that much easier, I wonder if they will one day just explode. Maybe we will just give it all up because we can never fill our present with the good pieces of our past, no matter how hard we try, we will always need the warm breath of real people who are here. Now. Not somewhere else, not away, not absent, not tomorrow or next week but here, today, now.

I had lunch the other day with a friend who made me her version of this wrap (warning: her version was better than mine). I’m thankful for the small steps to real, present relationships because there is nothing quite like sitting at a kitchen table with a friend, eating together and sharing our lives.

• Mediterranean Wrap    First her version – a flour tortilla, slathered with hummus and a sundried tomato paste/pesto of sorts, topped with grilled zucchini and eggplant. Totally delcious, and the kind of food that makes for a healthy, wholesome, satisfying lunch that is easily paired with a soup or salad. My version above is on Lebanese flat bread, with store-bought hummus and marinated then baked zucchini and eggplant. It definitely tastes better with the sundried tomatoes, but it is fine without it. I followed this recipe for the veggie marinade, and it tasted good, but it would taste better if I marinated it for half a day. I only had time to marinade it for an hour or so.

melting cheese

When I was in my teens, we got a sandwich maker. My mother called the sandwiches it produced “toasties,” and we filled them with corned beef, tinned fish, cheese and tomatoes. I loved cheese toasties. Perfectly golden brown and crunchy on the outside and oozing with melted cheese on the inside. I frequently burned my tongue because I took the first bites when the cheese was still too hot. My favourite part was the way the cheese melted out of the sides and formed a crispy crust around the edge. Those were my first bites.

I was craving a cheese toastie on Tuesday, and I decided to make it happen only to discover that very few things are the same when you live in a foreign country. (I realize when I re-read the previous sentence that it sounds like I live in a third world country or the mountains of Tibet instead of Switzerland, but trust me, it can feel very remote here when you’re used to American and Australian “necessities.”)

Sliced wholewheat bread is imported from the U.S., no tasty cheese or a cheap form of cheddar and to my knowledge, we do not have a sandwich maker (unless it’s in the recesses of Husband’s bachelor-life goods). Not to be deterred, I sliced our nussbrot (German for nut bread – and it is excellent, wholewheat bread with walnuts in it), sliced our block of Gruyere cheese, buttered a pan, peppered the cheese and sprinkled herbes des Provence (herbs of Provence) on top. The bread browned very quickly and started to burn before the cheese melted. I took it off the fire and started munching. No oozing cheese, no crispy crust. Parts of the bottom layer of cheese were starting to melt, but it wasn’t the same.

I’m not sure what I would do differently in the future – put a slice of bread on top and flip it? Start melting the cheese in the microwave? Start planning the next holiday to a place with sandwich makers, sliced wholewheat bread and cheap, fake cheese?

These are the situations, I tell myself, that are supposed to shape my character, make me stronger, resilient and creative but in the moment I want my mother and a cheese toastie.

• Toasted Cheese     slice wholewheat bread (health break: it’s so much better than the white stuff!), slice any cheese you like, put a bit of pepper and salt on it and sprinkle herbs you like on top, put it on a pan and do something different than what I did so that the cheese melts and the bread doesn’t burn.

a reflective sandwich

Being at home during lunch time, making sandwiches, cleaning house and crossing off things on my to-do list is probably not the vision I had for my life when I was at the peak of career-dreaming in university. That was six years ago when I slept little and never rested, ate pancakes three times a day and considered ramen noodles with frozen vegetables a complete meal. This is my Now, I rise to make porridge on the stove for breakfast, make or cook lunch and dinner. I am feeding a child who lives in my body, vacuuming and scrubbing two toilets (only weekly, it is worth noting).

I used to congratulate myself for a well-written and argued column that was going to change The Universe, now I consider myself The Best House Wife Ever for changing our sheets weekly. Six months after marriage I shamelessly brag to Husband when I’ve cleaned the whole flat.

This is not the big plan I had for my life in the years of change-the-world aspirations. I am starting over again. Again. Again. Looking upward for the restoration of the inside, empowering the inside to look outward. Again. Again.

We are in need of wholeness, our dreams are no exceptions. How corrupted they are by other people’s plans and ideas, by notions of success and the false burden of potential. What I have in my hand is what I need Now. What fills my life in this season is what is best Now. Nothing has been withheld from me.

He crowns the year with bounty, His wagon tracks overflow with abundance.

These are my meditations in 2011, a year that promises to be the best of my life not because of the great things there are to accomplish but because of the change there can be in my attitude, habits, lifestyle and heart. Body, soul and spirit change. This will be my food for the simple year of gratitude and joy.

With thoughts like these, it’s no surprise that my taste buds are craving the most basic of things like a tuna sandwich, simple, nourishing and perfect. Is it too much to say that this sandwich ministers to my soul? That my body, soul and spirit feel more whole and integrated after chopping the onions and pickle, squishing my fork into the meat, and piling it on a slice of not European baguette bread but fluffy whole wheat American bread?

The soul needs simple food these days. It is fuel for the simple life I need where laundry is done, pillows are straightened, relationships are right, rhythms restored and life made whole.

• Soul-Feeding Tuna Sandwich take a can of tuna and mix some kind of a white sauce on it (mayo, ranch, whatever), chop a quarter of an onion and a dill pickle into it. Mix. Eat. Love.