Pump the Breaks of Love by the Moment?

“For it matters not how small the beginning may seem to be: what is once done well is done forever.”
― Henry David Thoreau

December 12th, 2011

A Mt. Olympus tear soaked day, daimoku this Monday morning has me centered! (or so I perceive) As is typical of our intimate weekly Soka Gakai “mystic harmony” gatherings, we round out our chanting with some small talk as my cranberry-merlot almond cake is rationed amongst us five. I haven’t seen Jesse in several weeks, so I catch him up on my ongoing legal shenanigans, work, and more prominently, my recent love affair with the Aussie. Jesse’s impulsive response, “pump the breaks dude” This unrequested comment is quaintly similar to the other bakers dozen’s of cautionary remarks provided by good friends, local confidants and family members. If I dissect the sweetest intention from the actual confection, this common phrase “pump the breaks” implies civil obedience in the form of defensive driving (be wary, careful, apprehensive, etc.). The more straight-forward relevance being “you’re moving to fast Scotty!”

For those of you who don’t know me personally, I generally conform to the strictest of laws and enforce my own “black & white code” with a diligent hand. However, I find the majority of statutes to fall into “the grey area” permitting one the flexibility to swerve left, the option to hop onto the toll road, the choice to exit in desperate need of emptying one’s over-expanded bladder. As a person infatuated with the “why’s” of our conceivably abstract world, my inequitable response to these notions is this:

1.) Only give your opinion whence it has been asked for (unless, it is sincerely necessary)
2.) Remember that your own personal experiences influence your own thoughts & may not apply to another person’s life or perspective
3.) Fear is the opposite of Love – therefor one might hypothesis that to truly acquire a partnership of equal love, both individuals must enter the relationship on mutual terms of trust, omitting any fears (yes, including those emotional shock-waves of past lovers) & live by the moment.

How about “Love by the Moment?” Now, I’m not a spring chicken sporting a newly crafted DMV drivers license, nor am I some Tibetan monk conclusively gripping to a society bereft of pain or loss. Nope! This 35 year old has been tried, tested, bloody soaked & revoked like a used Playtex tampon. I’d like to believe that I am experienced in the driver’s seat as well as an attentive passenger, honest to my own faults, flaws and foolishness, savvy enough to walk when it’s pouring buckets onto the 405 freeway.

After the little Buddhist reunion, I set out for my daily Crunch workout; parking beneath the 1980’s "cream of trout" colored multiplex, I took the stairs as usual. I guess an elevator trip of one floor never made much sense to me? Casually crossing the tiled courtyard, I contemplated which ascending resource to take: the 32 steps or the escalator? (at this particular shopping mall the four are all aligned 2 up & 2 down). For the first time in five months, I took the escalator, all the meanwhile considering why I had foregone the more laborious steps? I was going to a gym after all and it simply never-made any sense to start the muscle straining adventure off with “the easy way up.”

The steps are more natural, one foot in front of another . . occasionally a bit strenuous, but undoubtedly more conscious so far as the awareness needed to accomplish such an ordinary task. The opposite attraction furnishing the liberty to survey ones surroundings as the augmenting metallic panels carry each constituent upward – both reaching the same destination in relatively equivalent fashion. Such a simple choice and yet I ponder which selection you would make? Would your choice reflect a glimpse of inherent principle, characteristically defining your approach to life’s many options . . . are you the uncertain squirrely type with an inclination towards the nutty side of erratic behavior? Spontaneous instinct superseding the Planned Parenthood approach to birthing the child of choice.

EXIT rationalization & fear
ENTER breathing to a natural rhythm = FULL FLAVORED SOULFULLY LIVING

And soul food is what I give you today . . comfortingly sweet-n-salty, knowing what to expect, maybe not the healthiest eats in the world, but loaded with a deeply rooted passion that surpassed miles of inflicted fear, tyranny & imposed limitations. Love yourself, Love one another, Love each bite of life and savor the sensual experiences without fear of loss, fear of the unattainable . . fear of food poisoning!

MOLASSESS BRINED PORK CHOP with Brandied Peach Salsa

For the rub:
2 Tbs. chopped garlic
1 Tbs. crushed fennel seeds
1 Tbs. finely chopped fresh marjoram
1 Tbs. finely chopped fresh rosemary
2 tsp. coarse salt
2 tsp. coarsely ground black pepper
4 bone-in pork rib chops, 3/4 to 1 inch thick (2-1/2 to 3 lb. total)

For the brine:
This Brown Sugar & Molasses Brine helps keep pork chops juicy and adds a subtle flavor. Yields enough for 12 pork chops

7 cups water
1 1/2 cups coarse salt
1 cup dark brown sugar
1 cup dark molasses
1 Tbsp each - dried thyme, black peppercorn, fennel seed, allspice, paprika
2 cups ice cubes
3 to 4 lb. pork chops

For the peach salsa: You can figure this one out on your own, right?

Brine the pork chops -- Pour the water into a large bowl, bring to a boil and add the salt, sugar, molasses, and spices - stir until sugar & salt has dissolved. Stir in the ice so the brine chills quickly. Add the pork chops, set a plate on top to keep them submerged, and cover the bowl. Refrigerate for at least 24 hours but no more than 36 hours. Transfer the pork chops to paper towels and proceed with one of the recipes that follow, or else wrap the chops in plastic and keep them refrigerated for up to 2 days.

Season and grill -- In a small food processor, combine the garlic, fennel seeds, sage, rosemary, salt, and pepper. Pulse several times to blend well. Lightly coat each chop on both sides with the herb rub.