So the movers are booked and coming. Let’s just pretend for the moment that my boxes are all packed. It’s funny, when I first decided to move apartments, it seemed like a random and very personal decision, but the past two months it feels like my entire Facebook and Instagram feeds are filled with the moving boxes of friends — both people I know in real life and only virtually — and every day my email brings messages offering up couches, lamps, and goldfish that are being shed in the purging. It’s sort of gratifying, making me feel like like I’m part of a bigger movement, a larger adventure. It’s been a good few weeks of waxing and waning dread and anxiety though. What had been a completely clear schedule for a few weeks, perfect for purging and packing up my home of over a decade, of course began to fill up almost immediately after I had committed. Friends coming into town, chances to meet with amazing winemakers, some cool assignments that by the way would help pay for the move. First I said no to everything, trying to be disciplined and organized. Then I said yes to everything, not wanting to miss things. I’ve finally struck a balance, at least in theory, that will hopefully give me both a life and get me packed on time.
Which is how I found myself tipsily wandering through the late afternoon Greenmarket the other day. One of the things that I had said yes to was a Caribbean rum seminar. In the Marie Antoinette room at Dear Irving, a jewel box of a bar that I love but don’t spend enough time at. The seminar began with a perfect daiquiri, the middle was filled with sips of examples of each island and style, for edification and educational purposes only, of course, and ended with us all huddled around, tasting things that are not on the U.S. market yet and may or may not have been smuggled into the country in various peoples briefcases and suitcases.
Clearly after this, the linen closet and cookbook shelves were not going to get packed, in anything resembling a timely fashion. And it was a beautiful late Spring late afternoon that found me a mere block away from the Greenmarket at the golden hour, when things are wrapping up and the super perishables are going for a discount. Since my packing/moving diet has me relying much more on takeout and quick meals than usual, I was craving something equally quick, but more healthful and headed straight towards the fancy salad greens booth. The triple washed, unique varietals, restaurant quality greens. As I was scooping up some half price boxes of greens, someone working at the stand pointed me in the direction of the edible flowers, which on a normal day are slightly out of the budget. But when you have been sipping fancy rum and the boxes are half price, budgets go a little bit out the window. Which is how I came into the possession of a box of arugula blossoms.
White and purple, four-petaled Arugula blossoms and their buds and stems, are peppery, verdant, and a bit mellower than the leaves. I’ve been tossing them in salads, folding them into soft scrambled eggs, scattering them on soups and sandwiches, to add both zest and depth.
Fun Fact about arugula: The Romans believed that both the leaves and blossoms had aphrodisiac properties, and as result of this the Roman Catholic Church forbade the growth of it in monastery gardens.