Baby Fawn

An old and cherished postcard from my BFF artist sister Kelly Shaw Willman.

If you had to choose an animal to represent you, which one would you choose? It's a question I sometimes ask people when I am trying to get acquainted with them. Everyone has probably considered this at some point; it's akin to asking "what's your favorite color?" I like this particular question because it requires the use of symbolism in an intricate--- but still intuitive--- way. Finding an answer means thinking in a child-like manner, human yet automatic, intellectual yet unforced. The response is always telling. 

This type of association occurs often in "primitive" cultures (ugh, I dislike that usage) and also in literature or myth. Just think of the totem, the spirit animal, the dæmon, the patronus. The pairing happens instinctively, perhaps functioning as a way to help us understand identity. I think this is what it does for me... although I'm still not really sure. Writing or talking about this sort of thing is difficult; it does not fit well into words. All I know is that the pairing is important and holds a great deal of meaning.  

When I was a Baby Fawn

When I was a little kid, maybe five or six, I used to play a game called "Baby Fawn." It was a very simple game. Mom and my sisters and I always went on a walk in the middle of the day, and sometimes during this "days walk" (as we termed it) I would run ahead and curl up on the pavement, face down, and wait for the rest of my family to catch up. When they came upon me, Mom (as carefully instructed!) would say, "Oh, girls, it's a baby fawn!" And she'd proceed to speak as if they'd just discovered a real little fawn laying in the road. After a couple of minutes, I'd magically turn back into Arhia--- and then run ahead to repeat the game. If Mom got tired of it, she never let on. What a lady! I can distinctly remember transforming into the baby fawn, but I cannot recall why I chose that animal. Maybe because I thought deer were magical in their silent grace... and I enjoyed being such a fresh and untarnished creature. The moment of being "discovered" was always a bit frightening, since I'd convinced myself I was a deer, but it was also fun to be at the center of attention as a beautiful and somewhat mystical beast. 

A Safe Child

When I saw Disney's Bambi for the first time, it affected me quite severely. I definitely sobbed in the darkness of the movie theatre when Bambi's mother died. To me she was Mom. My mom. I experienced a very real existential moment involving the knowledge and understanding of death. I avoided ever seeing that movie again, though I had several opportunities. I didn't let on that it had made such a deep impression on me--- I'd hidden my tears. I felt ashamed, since it was just a silly animated movie after all. I did not want to risk being laughed at as the weepy, emotional, "weak" one compared to Rhiannon's Big Sister strength. 

One of my first experiences of Frida Kahlo was her painting "The Little Deer," or sometimes called "The Wounded Deer." It struck me as outrageously brave; so brazenly forward about an intimate, private sort of pain. The symbolism of it captured me. And her face--- calm in spite of the arrows, like the face of Christ on the cross in some of the Medieval paintings... just looking at you looking at the pain. I loved the honesty of it, and the awkwardness, like how she has two sets of ears. It is all exactly right.  

Frida and Granizo

Audrey and Pippin

In college, I made a painting referencing this one (if only in symbols employed; the content was altogether different). It is a dream I had while studying abroad in London--- an image of love (destiny, adoration) that came to me one night when I was missing Myer like you can't imagine. Oh, and Frida also owned a pet deer, as did Audrey Hepburn. What is it with artistic ladies and fawns? There's something attractive about the delicacy of a deer, and then there are the spots it loses with age and the number of points on a buck's antlers... an animal symbolically loaded.  

Being homeschooled and living a relatively secluded life in the woods meant that my sisters and I inevitably created a unique culture of our own. I have called it a totemic culture; in fact, my MFA thesis was based on this idea. All of us had "spirit animals"--- Rhiannon was a cat and a monkey, Annwn was a frog, etc. We have drawn and painted each other in our various animal incarnations. Here are three of them.

Embroidered fawn from Mirra

Rhiannon's rendition of us

My painting of Annwn

Tea

Every morning I drink a pot of tea. The first thing I do when I enter the kitchen is turn my silver kettle on to boil. I crave my tea at that time of the day, not because it wakes me up (I rarely have difficulty with mornings), but because there is a certain something about the combination of pre-dawn and that crisp, steaming beverage... that I find to be blissfully cleansing and invigorating. Apparently I'm not alone in my love of tea; it's the second most-consumed beverage in the world after water. I drink one whole pot myself, and sometimes I have more late-morning. I know people who prefer their tea lukewarm... but I like mine very hot. I can taste it better this way, and my body feels most calmed and satisfied.

This traditional tetsubin cast iron Japanese teapot was a wedding gift from our friend Mona. I use it every day.

Camellia Sinensis

Mythic/historical figure Shennong

The tea plant, camellia sinensis, probably originated in the area that now includes northern Burma and southwest China (Yunnan and Sichuan provinces), although the precise location is difficult to determine, as cultivation has spread far and wide over the past several thousand years. A popular Chinese legend attributes the invention of tea as a beverage to emperor Shennong ("Divine Farmer") in 2737 BC. However, tea was used medicinally much earlier on. In fact, no one really knows when or how humans began using the plant. To me, that makes tea both practical and mystical--- a combination of attributes I find most attractive (not just in tea). From China it spread to Korea, Japan, and Vietnam. People in the Himalayan region of India used tea in medicine for an unknown period of time, but it did not become a common beverage until the British introduced it as such. The Western world discovered tea when Portuguese priests and merchants visited China during the 16th century. Tea-drinking spread to Britain around 1660, but did not become commonplace until the mid 1700s. A thriving black market trade organized around tea eventually led to the Boston Tea Party, and only ceased when the British stopped taxing it (by 1785). Interestingly, Americans actually drank more tea than the English did before Boston's most famous party.  

The five most popular varieties of tea.

There are many varieties of tea, but five can be identified as the "main" or most widely consumed. They are, as shown above: white, green, oolong, black, and pu erh. While they all come from the camellia sinensis plant, each type constitutes a radically different sipping experience. I was quite amazed to discover (in my early days of tea-geekhood) that every variation is a result of growing conditions, climate, harvest time, plant part, and processing. Tea production truly is an art, and the more I read about it, the more it astonishes me. I'm fast becoming a snob, although I do have a long way to go before I really qualify!

A great visual of tea data.

My personal favorites are green and oolong, with white a close third, and pu erh of great interest because making it involves fermentation (I <3 fermentation).  I wish I could give you an exhaustive list of all the exotic kinds within each category that I've tried... but to speak the truth, it's expensive, and I have not been able to indulge all my tea urges as yet. Some of the best I've tasted so far include gyokuro (a vibrant green from Japan), jade oolong (it smells like lilacs!), and silver needle (an airy white). I also love the traditional jasmine green, gunpowder green, and sencha. One I've been dying to try is Ti Kuan Yin, an oolong named after one of my favorite Buddhist deities (she is called Avelokiteshvara in Sanskrit).  I'm also lusting after shincha, pouchong, and the beautiful "blooming teas" made of tea leaves carefully sewn together that blossom when steeped in hot water. I don't mean to neglect the black teas here--- it's just that they aren't my particular favorites. I do, however, depend on Irish Breakfast to feed my kombucha culture! Black is definitely her favorite.

Aside from indulging my appreciation of fine craft and intricate gustatory pleasure, tea also happens to be extremely healthy. It's hard to deny several thousand years' worth of ancestral wisdom on this front. Tea feels so good to my body that quoting "evidence" seems a little absurd, but as I mentioned before, my personality consists of equal parts hokey-pokey intuition/magic and scientific rationality, so I can't not put in a few words about studies "proving" tea's health benefits. Time magazine has a page on tea that seems to check out, and here are a few juicy tidbits via Harvard Medical School's website:

• Tea drinking appears to lower the risk for heart disease and stroke
• Natural compounds called polyphenols in green tea might protect against several cancers, including those of the prostate, GI tract, lungs, breast, and skin
• Caffeine and antioxidants called catechins found in green, oolong, and white teas may increase metabolism and promote weight loss
• Tea polyphenols are thought to strengthen bones and protect against fractures
• People who drink tea could see improvements in mood, concentration, and performance.

The infographic at right is great; just click to enlarge if you can't read it at current size. It has some great statistics about all things tea. 

I have a wealth of nostalgic memories based on tea-drinking ritual. When I first met Myer in Autumn 2004 at Lawrence University, we bonded over our love of walking in the season's invigorating chill and bright leaf-colors with our travel mugs of hot tea. We still enjoy this practice, and every time we do, we are filled with a sense of romance because it was something we did in the beginning. Mushy, I know. (Sorry not sorry!) 

Us back then.

That's about all I have to say on the subject of tea, for now. Let me know what some of your favorites are... 

Egg

A variety of eggs.

Eggs. Yes, they are incredible. And I think might be one of the healthiest and most versatile foods on the planet. This year I began eating them raw, which was a revelation, because I used to always get "egg burps" after eating them cooked. I'm not a big fan of the whites, but the yolks are to die for. There's nothing quite like the taste of a plain, fresh, raw egg yolk with a few grains of sea salt! As a kid, my sister Rhiannon owned a veritable bestiary of animals, many of which were the egg-laying sort. Here are the types of eggs I've tried: goose, duck, guineahen, peahen, emu, turtledove, and of course chicken.  Duck are my favorite. The yolks are large and extra creamy... and the color of the egg shell is a beautiful light green (if it's a mallard egg, like the kind we had). Unfortunately, I have not found a place to buy fresh duck eggs; only the black preserved ones (which I love, but are expensive... and not raw, obviously!)

Did you know that an egg is a single cell? At least that's my understanding of it; I'm no biologist. Pretty cool though, if that's the case. They are also a near-perfect balance in terms of nutrients, being intended to nourish a growing baby. Eating a raw egg is like taking a multivitamin, only 100% natural and super delicious to boot. Here is a breakdown of (some of) the contents of an egg, given in terms of white vs yolk. Don't throw out that liquid gold!!! Look for dark-colored yolks; eggs with the brightest, deepest yellow yolks are the healthiest. I remember some home-grown specimens being almost orange! (PS, yolk-fat is awesome. Without it, you wouldn't be able to absorb those vitamins).

The culinary history of eggs goes back as far as humans do. We've been eating them basically since we stood upright. And no wonder--- they are the original fast food. Long before people learned how to cook their victuals, eggs were sucked straight from the shell upon discovery. Egg symbolism across cultures is fascinating. Not surprisingly, they have long been a symbol of life itself and were often believed to enhance fertility. In the East there was at one time a practice called "oomancy" (delightful word!) for predicting the future in the cracks of eggshells. In the West, the egg has been used as a Christian symbol--- think Easter. The reason eggs are sold by the dozen relates to the special place held by #12 in Christian mythology (you guessed it: 12 apostles). Apparently eggs have been sold this way since Elizabethan times. 

If you don't know how this has to do with eggs, I pity you.

You can do just about anything with eggs. Their uses are so diverse that is difficult to decide which recipes to include here. Personally, I like to either eat the raw yolks plain or else mix them with cacao powder, cinnamon, and whey powder for a tasty and energizing mini-meal. But I also serve them to Myer in various cooked guises.

Deviled Eggs

According to my research, deviled eggs in some form or other date back at least to Roman times. "Stuffed eggs" in many different cultures take on a wide variety of forms, some of them more appealing than others. Here is one I've made a few times.

6 hard-boiled eggs
2 tablespoons virgin coconut oil
1 teaspoon turmeric powder
Salt
Cayenne pepper

Slice eggs in half, remove yolks. Add coconut oil and turmeric to yolks and mix well. Form mixture into balls and press them into the whites. Sprinkle with sea salt and cayenne pepper to taste.

Egg Tea

I found this recipe for "Primal Egg Coffee" on Mark's Daily Apple and was intrigued. However, I don't drink coffee, so I decided to try a simple version with tea. I couldn't really picture how it would work--- I thought the egg yolk would just cook in the tea and be all chunky and gross. Not a bit! It's like tea with cream, only sans lactose and plus all that great egg yolk nutrition. So here's what I do: brew one cup of strong black tea (Lapsang Souchong is great for this!)... wash an egg, carefully crack it and separate the yolk from the white. Plop the yolk into your cup, break with a spoon and stir well. The tea will instantly be creamy and opaque. Drink while hot! 

Egg-in-a-(Tofu)-Hole

I used to make this for Myer a lot. It's very simple. Just cut a square hole out of a chunk of tofu... roughly egg-sized... fry the tofu on one side, flip, crack an egg into the hole, and cook until the egg is solid so it doesn't make a mess when you take it out of the frying pan. Sriracha lovey-dovey decoration optional....

Self-Portrait

In-progress.

I have been fascinated by portraits in art since I first began looking at Dad's old art history books as a little kid. Human faces were always my favorite subjects; I don't think that needs any explanation. As a child, I loved to draw people. "Beautiful Ladies" made frequent appearances in my sketchbooks. But I didn't begin drawing pictures of myself until I attended college. For some reason, I was squeamish about it when surrounded by my family. I thought drawing myself would indicate something suspect in me. Once I started using my own face and body as subjects, however, I could not stop. Suspect? Maybe. But I'm sure other artists will understand the attraction. What actually happens when one visually depicts oneself? Sometimes this practice is seen as narcissistic and egotistical; on the contrary (I believe), it encourages understanding and compassion for others by teaching understanding and compassion for oneself. It is a search for identification through the commonality of idiosyncrasy. It is a narration of recognition. A self-portrait is a definition of reality (and an acknowledgment of differing realities). The spell of the self-portrait is difficult to escape. And I wonder, why try? Many of my favorite paintings of all time happen to be of this genre.

Frida Kahlo, Self-Portrait with Necklace, 1933.

I've recently been reading the most incredible book, The Self-Portrait: A Cultural History by James Hall. Not only is it informative from a historical perspective (I am ravenous for history), but it speaks intimately to me about my own desire to depict myself... while making me feel such companionship with artists spread out across hundreds of years. If you are interested in the subject at all, I highly recommend this book. 

Some artists are known mainly for their self-portraits. Frida Kahlo is one such. At the time of her death (age 47), she had painted about 55 of them.  Rembrandt is also known largely for his self-portraits, many completed in his youthful years. I have been lucky enough to see several of these stunning works, including a small piece that resides in Amsterdam's Rijksmuseum. He depicts himself at the tender age of 23. When I stood before it, I felt as though I were facing a fire that had been burning for 400 years... like my soul was being seared by a beautiful brand. 

Rembrandt, Self-Portrait as a Young Man, 1629.

Before the 15th century, self-portraits in art were comparatively rare and not hailed with such to-do. For a great deal of history, artists were in fact considered equivalent in status to blacksmiths or weavers; they were "craftspeople," and not deemed significant enough to warrant the sort of historical memorial that portraiture entailed. Still, they sneaked in self-portraits whenever they could and in spite of ridicule or even punishment. The desire of the artist to portray him/herself... has remained constant. One painting I desperately wish I could see in person currently hangs in the Alte Pinakothek, Munich, Germany. Albrecht Dürer's Self-Portrait (1500) has deeply affected me since I first saw an image of it many years ago. Even without the art history context, this piece is (in my humble opinion) unsurpassed. Within said context, it takes on many additional layers of meaning and explains its important position in the textbooks. Just look at it for a moment... that hair! That gaze! That hand! I'd go to Germany solely to visit this awe-inspiring yet humbly-sized (26 x 19 inches) painting.

Durer, Self-Portrait, 1500.

Much of the controversy surrounding this portrait revolves around Durer's (apparent) allusions to images of Christ from the period. He has employed various conventions of representation and symbolic elements that make this reference difficult to doubt. I'm sure I need not go into why that was problematic for many people. However, I don't think Durer was intending it to be an affront... from my perspective, he was in fact "worshiping God" in his own way; in the way he needed to, although it was not necessarily safe.

Picasso, Self-Portrait, 1901.

Sofonisba Anguissola

Two more I must mention before I bring this to a close: the first is Picasso's from his "blue period." It's something about the placement of his face on the canvas, and his expression surrounded by blues that are somehow both soft and vicious. The second is by Italian Renaissance painter Sofonisba Anguissola, who created many self-portraits throughout her long life (an incredible 92 years). I think they are all beautiful, but the small example pictured here is my favorite because of the angle at which her head is tilted... and the wisdom-filled youth in her gaze.

I enjoy looking at portraits in general, but self-portraiture holds a special fascination for me. When I stare deeply into a great one, I feel a twinge of that longing--- that desire to bridge the chasm between perception and perceived. In the really, truly great ones, I can taste it. Which is what spurs me to continue attempting my own. I've finished several, all of them quite different from each other, and am working on two more. The "sliver picture" at the beginning of this post is a taste of my most recent self-portrait project (and, sadly, it is far from done!).

Lady with a Langur, 2012.

Rosa Acicularis, Prickly Wild Rose

Down in the lower gardens on the strip, where the Milky Way shone bright at night, our wild roses grew. Mom brought them small from Grandma's garden up in Minnesota, but they were enthusiastic flowers and fast made our home their own. Yesterday I asked Mom if the roses were still there, and she said yes, it's hard to keep them at bay.... which I was glad to hear. Wild roses are my favorite flowers. Have you sniffed a wild rose? The scent is like a drug, it overtakes me. During this time of year, I often smell them before I see them; where are you, my delicious friend? There you are, and I make the apt-named beeline to stand and inhale, inhale until I almost faint of too much oxygen. Standing like that, I see the secret world beneath the spiny bushes and it reminds me of picking raspberries in the forest as a child. Did you know? Raspberries and roses are in the same family. I think I am part of that family, too.

From Snow White and Rose Red

Roses. Probably the most oft-referenced flower by artists and poets through many centuries, and used symbolically in countless myths/folktales/etc. When I was very small, my dad told me about the brilliance of Gertrude Stein: "Rose is a rose is a rose is a rose"... which I didn't understand, but pretended to, because Dad spoke to me like I was a smart girl who would know such things. There is a Grimm's fairy tale called Snow White and Rose Red that my sister Rhiannon and I loved. She said they were us--- she was Snow White and I was Rose Red. That suited me fine. Mom read us Romeo and Juliet out loud, explaining every line as she went. "What's in a name? That which we call a rose/ By any other name would smell as sweet." Yes, yes I understood that! Because I had smelled roses, and there was no denying the transcendence of their scent. One of our best friends growing up was named Rose. Everyone else called her "Rosie"; we stubbornly stuck with "Rose." To me that meant the wholeness of the flowering plant in all its glory, whereas "rosie" sounded like an adjective, a skin tone. I still call her Rose, and I'm sure she will laugh reading this.

Last year in the Isabella Stewart Gardner Museum, I stumbled across a treasure by the windows in the "Dutch room."

The Madonna and Child in a Rose Arbor, 16th c., Workshop of Martin Schongauer, German, 1450-1491, Oil on wood

Page of a 16th c. German hymnal

This painting is spell-binding to me. I think it feels like home. All the plants are hyper-real, which in my mind seems more real than "actual" real.... and I know what most of them are because I grew up in that garden. Roses have been used since Medieval times as a symbol for both Christ and Mary. In the 16th century German hymn "Es ist ein Ros entsprungen" ("Lo, How a Rose E'er Blooming"), it symbolizes Christ's birth. Mom used to sing this hymn at Christmastime; it was always one of her favorites. I wasn't a fan back then because it was difficult for me to sing, and I didn't understand how a rose had to do with Christmas. Now I love it because it reminds me of Mom.

I eat roses. I drink roses. I put roses on my body.... Raspberries drizzled with rose water, rose-petal kombucha, Weleda wild rose body oil and Wyndmere rose oil in jojoba. I cannot get enough. Of course I am aware that roses are cliche as a favorite flower. However, I think resisting my love of these divine blossoms because so many have loved them before... would prove me rather silly. When I was a little girl, I chose brown as my favorite color for a long time, because I felt sorry for the brown Crayola marker. No one seemed to love it. These days, I just go right for the juiciest, sparkliest, tastiest, and most colorful. Sorry brown Crayola marker. After all, as they say, life is short. So I stop and smell the ... like, every five minutes.   

Vata, Pitta, Kapha

Ayurvedic recipes for Dosha-balancing tea

Dhanvantari, physician of the gods

My Kali Shrine

Anyone who knows me can attest to the fact that I've been fascinated with everything India (culture, history, religion, food, clothing, and music) for quite some time. At any given moment, I can be found wearing a bindi, listening to a sitar, ingesting turmeric, or popping off a couple down-dogs. I even have a small Kali altar built around a figurine my little sister Cirrus brought back for me from India. Unsurprisingly, Ayurveda, the ancient system of traditional Hindu medicine, has taken its turn as the focal point of an "Arhia geeky obsesssion." To be honest, I am a little hesitant to write anything about Ayurveda because it is impossible to simplify and easy to misinterpret. I myself have only a vague whiff of understanding when it comes to the subject. After all, Ayurveda arose thousands of years ago and half a world away. Sources of education on the topic seem to fall into two categories: vapid, ridiculous online drivel, and unimaginably dense tomes that beginners like me just can't access. Anyhow, keep in mind the above disclaimer as you read this post!

In the context of Ayurveda, the Sanskrit prakriti means a person's unique physical and psychological nature. Dosha can be translated roughly as "constitution" or "biological type." Doshas make up the physical aspect of one's prakriti. There are three doshas, or biological energies: vata, pitta, and kapha, which relate to the five elements as defined by Ayurvedic philosophy (see chart at right). Vata is made up of ether and air, pitta of fire and water, and kapha of water and earth. Every person displays characteristics of vata, pitta, and kapha, but usually one or two doshas are dominant above the others within an individual's prakriti. Rarely are the doshas distributed evenly in a single human being, but it does happen. To ascertain an accurate evaluation of your personal doshic balance, you should seek out a professional Ayurvedic practitioner. However, there are many "online quizes" and such that one can partake in *just for the fun of it*.... and it is sort of fun. Simply keep in mind the mega-hokey factor. The dosha quiz I took was in Deepak Chopra's Perfect Health. Unfortunately, the book was heartily new-agey and not authentic in terms of traditional Indian medicine... but it seemed like an acceptable place to begin. Anyhow, according to Chopra's book, I am very vata with a decent dose of kapha and only a pinch of pitta.

During my research on Ayurveda, I came across recipes for herbal teas intended to balance the respective doshas. Tea being another of my geeky obsessions (one that will doubtless star in a post all its own here one of these days), I took note. I've seen many variations on each recipe, with differing combinations and proportions of herbs, so there is no "one way" of brewing these teas. The recipes here are simpler than many, involving only four ingredients per mixture, and include my personal favorite herbs/spices from among the vast array. Feel free to do your own research and experiment with different amounts to suit your own needs and tastes. After all, that is the fun part! 

                 Vata Balancing Tea              Pitta Balancing Tea                Kapha Balancing Tea                       

 

In case you can't tell from the pictures, I'll also list the ingredients in words. Vata: ginger, licorice, cinnamon, cardamom. Pitta: peppermint, chamomile, fennel, rose. Kapha: ginger, pepper, saffron, cloves. Vata is the only one I've actually made, since I often tend toward an overabundance of that dosha. I intend to try the others, however, because they all look AMAZING. When I make a batch of tea, I use a large handful of each ingredient per two quarts of water. I simmer everything together for about an hour at very low heat, then pour into jars and store in the fridge to be enjoyed all week. I like to add a shot of apple cider vinegar to my cup before I drink it, and I'm sure raw honey would also be a lovely addition. 

Each tea balances the dosha of its name. Therefore, vata tea is grounding and stabilizing, pitta tea is cooling and calming, and kapha tea is energizing and uplifting. So for example, if you feel a cold coming on, vata tea would be a good choice, since a cold indicates an excess of vata. If you have digestion issues, either vata or kapha could help. If you are frustrated or worked-up, pitta might be of use. 

Enjoy!

Sapta Chakra, from a Yoga manuscipt in Braj Bhasa lanaguage, 1899.

Chocolate

I have been making a concerted effort to incorporate more chocolate into my diet. Yes, you read that right. But perhaps I should use the more specific term cacao, because what I'm referring to here is the pure ingredient, not the sugar-lined candy. I love chocolate; who doesn't? But while the cacao makes me feel awesome, the sugar tends to weaken my immune system and causes my heart to race. So I've embarked on a mission to create chocolate delicacies sans sugar. I now realize that not only is it much healthier this way, but I actually adore the taste of bitter chocolate. 

As you may know, cacao is a very nutritious food when minimally processed. 2.5 tablespoons of raw cacao powder (such as Navitas Naturals, one I've tried and can vouch for) contain: 3 grams protein, 23% RDI magnesium, 7% potassium, 8% iron, as well as trace amounts of calcium, copper, selenium, manganese, zinc, vitamins E, K, several Bs, and choline. Most of us don't get enough magnesium in our diets, so cacao can be very helpful in that respect. Then there are the oft-touted antioxidants in the form of flavonoids called catechins and epicatechins that help lower blood pressure and prevent systemic inflammation. These compounds are also found in other foods, such as green tea and red wine, but are particularly concentrated in pure cacao. 

Aztec woman mixing cacao drink

The cultivation of cacao in its native Mesoamerica may date back as far as 1900 BCE. There is evidence that it was used to create a kind fermented alcoholic beverage, and was also employed ritualistically, medicinally (it was thought to be an aphrodisiac), and as a currency. The Mayans identified cacao with the rain god Kon, and consumed it in the form of a thick, hot, foamy drink made spicy with chili peppers. Much later, around 1400 CE, the Aztecs (who associated cacao with the god Quetzacoatl) were making a similar beverage. Unlike the Mayans, they drank their concoction cold. Not until the 16th century had any European tasted chocolate... and so you see, only in recent history has cacao had anything to do with sugar. Christopher Columbus and the Spanish conquistadors brought it back to the old world, where it quickly became both sweetened and wildly popular. Even the origins of the word "chocolate" can be traced back to the Aztec "xocoatl", the name of their bitter foamy drink. Theobroma cacao, the Latin name for the cacao tree, means "food of the gods." By the mid-1800s, food scientists in Europe had figured out how to process cacao into its modern form: the chocolate bar.  

I've experimented with raw cacao powder and have come up with many delicious and healthy ways to partake. Here are two.

Coconut Hot Chocolate

1 heaping teaspoon coconut oil

1 ounce coconut milk

2 tablespoons cacao powder

Dash of cinnamon 

Sprinkle of cayenne 

Boiling water

Combine coconut milk and dry ingredients in a cup; stir well. Add coconut oil and mix vigorously until the texture is smooth. Then fill the cup with hot water, bit by bit, stirring as you go so as to prevent globbing. Enjoy HOT! 

Chocolate Truffles
1 egg raw yolk
1/2 teaspoon coconut oil
1 tablespoon cacao powder

Combine ingredients and, if necessary, add more cacao until consistency is easily molded and holds its shape. Then you can do whatever you want with it in terms of flavors. (Refrigerate your finished creations prior to eating, since they contain the egg yolk). Below are three of my recent versions: the first has orange peels and clove powder, the second is sprinkled with cayenne pepper and topped with a dehydrated raspberry (grown and harvested by me own mum, I might add!), and the third has cardamom kneaded in and is garnished with toasted sesame seeds and Hawaiian red salt. The possibilities are endless. Go wild.