Hi friends,

Writing to you from the darkest timeline where national parks are losing funding and things like fire fighting and basic human rights are at stake. It’s worse than we thought or maybe it’s just as bad as we imagined. And in this moment I am asking you to take time to feed yourself. Counter intuitive as it seems, we can not navigate what’s unfolding without a bite to eat.

I’m freeing myself from guilt in running a business amidst the uncertainty. I am allowing myself hope for a better outcome and connection through community and food to create something meaningful. Wrapping up another Tzimmy pop-up this week, I’m celebrating a sold out event where my recipes brought friends and strangers together to share in something special. This work is in service of people + planet and to feed y’all, through blog posts, meal plans, pop-ups, etc., is to love you. A practiced language, I find fluency through the conversational rhythms of plating produce and the joy in that first bite.

Be unrelenting in your belief for more. And, make sure you’re well-fed for the work. (CLC is here for more ideas to make sure y’all eat.)

Speaking to neurodivergence this week with a personal essay–if it resonates, reply back <3

Stay hungry,
Hawnuh Lee | Founder, Closed Loop Cooking

Winter grain roasted broccoli salad.

The dish >>

• Our public lands are in danger! If you do anything today–FIND YOUR GOV REPRESENTATIVE and CALL. Keep calling. These messages are tallied and make an actual difference. Tell your friends to call, be persistent, be annoying, create friction.

• I’m encouraging you to try this winter grain broccoli bowl with orange shallot dressing. Food for fuel and it’s seriously worth the leftovers. Try it with lentils or chickpeas for fun.

• Stress snacking? Same, same. This homemade granola does just the trick.

• And / Or Salad for President is sending out freebie granola to those affected by the LA wildfires.

• Are you popping sorghum?

• I want to put on more at-home cafe mornings, you coming?

• The future of farming is at stake.

• Just discovered The Garden Girls podcast and will be working on my raised beds y’all.

• The EU just hit a milestone on regulations for reducing food waste.

Homemade granola.

Mind of a chef

essay by Hawnuh Lee

There is a disconnect from each of our lived experiences until we too are grappling with how to navigate this new reality. That question–When will this administration impact me? Is a reality so many Americans are already facing in their day to day. “Make America Healthy Again” is a discriminatory campaign against anyone alternatively abled and as an individual with high functioning autism and ADHD (alt know as AuDHD) I’m sharing a moment of my lived experience. It’s up to us to hold empathy and anchor for one another and I encourage you to speak your stories loudly. Be impossible to ignore and do not acquiesce in silence. Your voice, in this moment, is the most powerful tool for change.

The first Sunday farmer’s market of the new year is teeming with neighbors–bright winter sun glinting off Oregon apples and pears. Fat sweet potatoes are displayed like prizes alongside an abundance of warty gourds. Speckled radicchio and pastel pink chicory illuminate vendor tables with romantic palettes and I am pausing in the sensory delights of the morning. Fucking magic.

I proudly hold up a 2 foot Brussels sprout stalk like a freshly caught fish–weighty bulbs adorn the length and I am envisioning the myriad ways I will roast, sauté, and shred. My eyes scan for shallots and other alliums, jumping to thoughts of acidic marinades and dressings to elevate earthy flavors. Can I tenderize the inner stalk flesh to make a plant marrow? Will the fibrous ends spiralize? I let myself ideate a tangle of recipes to experiment. 

Walking home with my haul the air is crisp and I am grateful for this slow morning. For the chance to busy my hands with produce prep and rote motion in a tactile, Sunday meditation.

I need this work, this focus.

The overwhelm is creeping in again the last few weeks. Fraying the edges of my daily routines in a pressing discomfort through my chest. I ignore the slight tingling sensations along my left side and under my rib cage–remnants from shingles past, waving hello in peaks of stress. I am all too aware the crescendo of mental noise, steadily reverberating amidst a flurry of constant thought. 

“Do you believe me yet?” My younger sister, A, pushes at me. “You’re AuDHD.” 

My eyes roll automatically, she’s made this argument regularly the last few months. Since her own diagnosis, I’ve been adamant to avoid this topic. I know my neurodivergencies, my high functioning autism is something I’ve accepted slowly.

“We don’t have to do everything together.” I quip, peeling back radicchio leaves. Flecks of red freckle across each layer. It’s beautiful as any floral arrangement.

She puts in an airbud, mmhmming with a slight eyebrow raise as she leaves me to my vegetables. I don’t want her to be right, close to the truth as she is. This constant internal chatter has been a lifelong companion, managed through hyper focus and countless hobbies. But I’m comforted in the solace of my kitchen, finding focus in ingredients, in preparation, in the effort.

There is stillness in the work. In my fingers finding natural edges to tear into bite size pieces, in the steady rocking motion of my knife, in shaping lurid peels of produce to toss together. It is a stillness rooted in nerves, my feet grounded in a pair of worn kitchen clogs and I am noticeably present. Each peel, chop–is bodily. I have not dissociated away from this moment, I am all too aware of my hands and tools and food, touching in calm collective.

For a few hours, I am a channel of clarity, capturing the meal through my DSLR, adjusting and responding to the ebbs of afternoon light. The quiet is audible, my chest rises in deep breath, I am ok.

We enjoy the meal across the island from each other, lingering in the last few notes of silence. Chattering thoughts poke in on the edges of my unspoken understanding with A. I focus on strips of black radish and smokey cashew cheese under florals of radicchio, appreciating my handiwork. For now, I am here. Tomorrow, there’s Brussels sprouts.

<3

Stunning leek prints.

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so we can keep crafting rad content for free!

Have an idea we should feature in the newsletter? Want to work with us? Drop a line at [email protected]. We can’t wait to see what y’all cook up next! #closedloopcooking

*****

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