I'm so glad you're okay. (vegan squash wellington)
I have noticed that often we say to people who have experienced a trauma "I am so glad you are okay." I was thinking about that urge the other day and realized that "okay" had come to mean "alive."
Recently, a friend of mine was attacked by men. She was biking, and was driven off the rode by men in a car who decided to hurt her. She broke her arm, had to get surgery. I was lost as to how to respond because my first thought was to say to her "I am so glad you are okay," but my friend, who I love, was not okay. She had to get surgery because of what men did to her. Men felt entitled to her body, her time, and her very personhood, and decided to hurt her, and while she is alive, to suggest that surviving that is okay minimizes the horror of what was done to her.
What I meant when I thought "I am so glad you are okay" is "thank god they did not succeed in killing you." I don't know about you, but I do not want to say to someone who survived an attack "I'm glad you're alive." Maybe I should. And perhaps that is what people think when they survive something so big—when they live through cancer, or violence, anything else that tries to take them. But I feel too scared to acknowledge that possibility to them, to say to them "I think about the frailty of you, and it terrifies me." I don't want to make people think of death if they are not already thinking of it. If someone isn't thinking about how precarious they are, who the hell am I to suggest to them "maybe consider thinking about death"?
How do we best honor each others experiences, how do we recognize the trauma that some of us have survived? Is it too dismal to say "I am so glad you are not yet dead, that nothing has taken you from my life?" Or is recognizing our human frailty the right way to do justice to our experiences? If we project onto someone "joy" or even "okayness" when all they have is "hereness" are we invalidating how hard it can be to be here? Hell if I know.
So to you, my reader, I do not know what else to say. I am glad you are here, I am glad you survived, and I hope one day we can all be okay, and that "okay" can mean more than just "still here."
In the winter I organize a card writing event, where I gather people together and we write short cards for an organization called Just Detention. The cards we write go out to incarcerated survivors of sexual violence in prison. We do not know the people our cards are going to, and yet we have to say something. We have to say something that is kind, that is genuine, something that could provide comfort.
It is so easy to get caught up inside your head about this sort of thing. Often I find myself thinking "nothing I say will sound true, nothing I say will be good enough." Or thinking "how can I say something that wishes someone joy without diminishing their experience?" I do not have an ideal message that I write. I fluctuate between admiration for their strength in continuing to be alive, praise for their value in the world, and general wishes for joy in the coming year. Is it good enough? Can it ever be good enough?
I am devoted to words, obviously, I send out my rambling personal writing every few weeks and hope that it means something to someone, but when it reaches the point when words feel like my best option to communicate with someone, I, like many people, feel totally stuck. I felt led to write this because so many times this year I have had to face the inadequacy of my words. Whether trying to comfort friends or strangers, or in the long process of coming out at work and to my family, my words have seemed insufficient. Oh well.
I was going to give the recipe, with pictures, for the babka straws I made for my card writing party, but in typical me fashion, I forgot to take any pictures, either while making them, or after. So I can't do that. Instead, here is a new (vegan) winter dinner party recipe for you. (I made it for thanksgiving if you really want to know how long this draft has been rattling around.)
Vegan Squash Wellington
No wellingtons are not just beef—at least not anymore! This one has several good vegan things inside it: caramelized onions, roasted butternut squash, and kale.
Ingredients:
1 butternut squash
1 pound onions
1 bunch of kale
salt
pepper
water
champagne or white wine vinegar
smoked paprika
3 cloves garlic
thawed puff pastry (take it out the day before and stick it in the fridge!)
Dijon and/or whole grain mustard
1 tablespoon agave nectar or maple syrup (I used maple)
1 tablespoon water
Do ahead:
Caramelize the onions: cut 1 pound of onions, toss with salt and break apart. Heat skillet to medium, put some oil in the bottom (I used olive oil) and once it is warm, add the onions. Set a timer for ten minutes. When the timer goes off, stir the onions well, and set the timer for 10 minutes again. Repeat this process, adding water as necessary to keep the onions from sticking or getting too dry. It took me probably over an hour, and I did not caramelize my onions as much as some do. Once I decided I liked where my onions were, I added a scant tablespoon of champagne vinegar and cooked the onions for a few minutes more, just to thicken. Set aside. These can be made up to a week in advance.
Prep the squash:
Preheat oven to 400 (or just place the squash in with something else, mine baked at the same time as my tragically bad vegan green bean casserole at 350.) Peel the neck of a butternut squash and cut off. Trim the stem. Cut in half, lengthwise, trying to get it as equal as possible. Rub with olive oil, and a generous amount of salt and pepper, as well as smoked paprika if you've got it (if not, regular paprika, with a bit of chili powder or cayenne would probably also be good. Or just buy smoked paprika, it's delicious.)
Place on an unlined but oiled baking sheet. Stick it in the oven. Bake until a paring knife drops through without much resistance (I think I baked mine for about 40 minutes? but I honestly couldn't swear to a time, sorry). Remove from the oven. Use a spatula to carefully lift the squash, there will be a really delicious crusty on the bottom, and if you're careful you should be able to keep it attached. Set it aside to cool.
Make the kale:
While the squash is roasting, wash, stem, and roughly chop your kale. Chop a few cloves of garlic. Heat a pan with a lid over medium. Add a tablespoon or so of olive oil, add the garlic and cook until it's just beginning to brown. Dump in your kale, add a few pinches of salt, and some pepper. Add some wine, sherry, broth, or water, and put the lid on, let your kale steam for a few minutes. Take a bite. When it feels appealingly soft (it's up to you!) remove from the heat, and add a splash of wine vinegar. Set aside to cool. I added some chopped toasted walnuts, because I had them. They were a fine addition, but not, I think, necessary. Do with that what you will.
Make the wellington:
Preheat oven to 425. Line asheet pan with parchment paper. Mix together in a small bowl a tablespoon of dijon, a tablespoon of whole grain mustard, and a little bit of olive oil and black pepper. Roll out your puff pastry on a clean work table, it doesn't need to be massively longer, but I should have rolled mine out a bit thinner than I did, I think. Just make sure your pieces are longer than the squash by about an inch on both ends, and a bit wider than you think is necessary.
Place the bottom layer on the parchment lined sheet. Put your kale mixture on the bottom, being sure to keep about an inch clear on all sides.
Rub/brush your mustard mixture onto all side of the squash. Be generous! Place some of the caramelized onions on top of the kale. Place the squash atop the kale mixture, trying to make it as level a hight as possible (mine was cut unevenly, whoops). Put the rest of the caramelized onions on and around the squash.
Roll out the second sheet of putt pastry. Place it on top of your wellington, trim the sides to about 3/4 of an inch on all sides and seal the sides by pressing down vigorously with a fork to crimp them together. Brush all over with a mixture of 1 tablespoon maple and 1 tablespoon water (or an egg wash if you aren't doing it vegan)
Make a few vents in the top (you can do a little design if you want). Use extra puff pastry to decorate, if you feel so led.
Bake until browned nicely, and the squash is very tender (I took mine out a bit early, because I was hungry) about 30-40 minutes (maybe).
Happy new year!