We are in the thick of summer by all standards, except if you live in Seattle as we do. But even though it rains a copious amount here, I think we appreciate a lackadaisical day filled with sunshine, puffy-clouds and blue-sky more than almost anyone else in the nation…maybe even the world.
So while shopping at Trader Joe’s today, I found a package ([package] which I normally avoid) of Seaweed.
I have a fondness for Seaweed, and wish I could manipulate it the way they do in Japan. It has amazing health qualities and it is one of those mysteries I want to break down.
But today, in the car, after shopping at Trader Joe’s, I just threw my molecular curiosity aside and ripped open the package to reveal these thin sheets of pressed Seaweed. After delicately placing a rectangle in my mouth, I passed a few sheets to my children, who exclaimed that these little green sheets of goodness were the only green items they considered edible, and more like candy than the Broccoli I make them eat once a week.
This was not how I viewed them though. When I gingerly took a bite of these tasty seaweed rectangles, my mind made a memory time travel to the sea.
I have the fondest memories of growing up in california. One of the best times I can remember is going to Huntington Beach several times each summer with my family. My grandfather napping under a palm and my cousins and me making sand sculptures. Driving home for an hour with sand everywhere and the heat of the sun still steaming off of my skin.
And while I never ate Seaweed, I remember it tangling itself around my heels as the waves made their retreat back into the ocean. I never considered actually eating it. That would come much later.
When you have children, they reveal this sense of responsibility you didn’t even know existed in your single, college-filled, safety-88 nights of wonder. But they come into your life, and once they start eating, you turn into this ultra-healthy super-kitchen-mama. Seaweed was one of my experiments.
It was a bomb. On Cypress Island in the San Juans, a form of Seaweed comes to the surface and swims onto the sand in an effort to find a reprieve from floating around aimlessly in Strawberry Bay. I decided to “harvest” this Seaweed and steam it. Long story short, it didn’t turn out.
So I’m stuck ordering it online: Wakame, Arame and the like. I believe it cured an upset stomach I had a few years ago.
But for now, I will continue to introduce Seaweed in doses, and not try to manipulate something that is so perfect in it’s natural form.
And you know…I’m going to do that with people too. If you are reading this right now, you are perfect just the way you are. Don’t let anyone manipulate you.
You are perfect!