Our daughter got another Guinea Pig, a baby this time. I thought she looked like a lemur at first glance. I think I've enjoyed this book entirely too much!
I'm still reading, but I just had to pause to address this:
"It still wasn’t worth it."
I've thought this same thing a few Thanksgivings after prepping, cooking and then cleaning up after a 30 minute feast Ha!
But of course in the case of Thanksgiving, a once-a-year-event, it really is worth it, and we repeat the whole thing the following year (like childbirth, you forget enough to do it again).
Some things definitely aren't worth it. And some things seem like they aren't, but it turns out that they are, in the end.
I've been resistant to many kitchen tasks of late. But yesterday I made a cake--a layer cake, with all of the hassle involved therein. The chocolate cake that I make is itself fairly involved, and has a cup of scalding hot water added at the end such that, if you're not very careful, you end up both making a mess and hurting yourself. And for the buttercream frosting, I made a coffee-infused egg white base, whipped up until fluffy, before creaming in loads of butter, to make a luscious coffee buttercream to go between and on top of layers of the deep chocolate cake (this is my version of a fantastic cake sold at Zingerman's in Ann Arbor, which they call "mountain of mocha"). The whole thing is involved and time consuming and of course the enjoyment garnered from eating cake is both fleeting, and also tinged with the recognition that there is no world in which eating such cake, no matter what honest ingredients I used, can be considered a healthy choice on balance. And yet. Not only is the cake stupendously good, but the act of making it was contemplative and lovely.
In this case, then, it was worth it. Even though by most metrics, it shouldn't feel that way.
(That said, with regard to Thanksgiving--which I do love and do spend a lot of time at every year--I have decided that I will no longer--or perhaps almost never again--attempt to make gluten free pie crusts by hand. There is no joy there. And the result isn't delicious anyhow.)
I feel the same about our homemade angel food cake with lemon cream icing. So much work and attention to not spoil the whole thing but such fluffy deliciousness once completed. Doesn’t hurt when we raise the eggs that go into it so it feels slightly nutritious!
Oh oh, buttercream is my favorite frosting, no other compares, and this cake sounds delicious. Oh my, this is worth it.
But I suppose there's nothing to compare to hours of tedious and filthy work to make rice and beans and maybe a piece of chicken (?) over charcoal with no running water per say for the three phases of 'supper'.
Your cake though reminds me that I DO make my late grandmother's lemon meringue pie and though it takes well over an hour to prepare, it's worth it. No bakery or store bought can stand up to it. I wouldn't want to have to make it every day though, in the conditions you were limited to in Nosy Mangabe. No no no.
I don't think that it can be done that way. Or rather: I don't think a single variable--"easier"--can be forced onto the two very different ways of being.
The people of Maroantsetra (for there are no permanent residents of Nosy Mangabe--only the dead in the ancient cemetery in the cave on the hill) have very spare lives, with no luxuries, and also little chance of going beyond the borders that they can already see. But if something happens to a person in Maroantsetra, their family and friends, their whole community, will do everything that they can to make it right. To ease their pain.
I believe that I (strongly) prefer a life in which I can imagine alternatives, and sometimes find them, in how other people are choosing to live, and in ecosystems that I have not yet been to. But how would I know, really? I was never in the other circumstance. Simpler is not inherently easier. Nor is it inherently worse. But it is...less, in terms of options. Again, though--more options are not necessarily better.
Our daughter got another Guinea Pig, a baby this time. I thought she looked like a lemur at first glance. I think I've enjoyed this book entirely too much!
https://x.com/AEJ58/status/1915870680144392319
I'm still reading, but I just had to pause to address this:
"It still wasn’t worth it."
I've thought this same thing a few Thanksgivings after prepping, cooking and then cleaning up after a 30 minute feast Ha!
But of course in the case of Thanksgiving, a once-a-year-event, it really is worth it, and we repeat the whole thing the following year (like childbirth, you forget enough to do it again).
But every day... ?
"It still wasn’t worth it."
Back to Nosy Mangabe for now. :)
Some things definitely aren't worth it. And some things seem like they aren't, but it turns out that they are, in the end.
I've been resistant to many kitchen tasks of late. But yesterday I made a cake--a layer cake, with all of the hassle involved therein. The chocolate cake that I make is itself fairly involved, and has a cup of scalding hot water added at the end such that, if you're not very careful, you end up both making a mess and hurting yourself. And for the buttercream frosting, I made a coffee-infused egg white base, whipped up until fluffy, before creaming in loads of butter, to make a luscious coffee buttercream to go between and on top of layers of the deep chocolate cake (this is my version of a fantastic cake sold at Zingerman's in Ann Arbor, which they call "mountain of mocha"). The whole thing is involved and time consuming and of course the enjoyment garnered from eating cake is both fleeting, and also tinged with the recognition that there is no world in which eating such cake, no matter what honest ingredients I used, can be considered a healthy choice on balance. And yet. Not only is the cake stupendously good, but the act of making it was contemplative and lovely.
In this case, then, it was worth it. Even though by most metrics, it shouldn't feel that way.
(That said, with regard to Thanksgiving--which I do love and do spend a lot of time at every year--I have decided that I will no longer--or perhaps almost never again--attempt to make gluten free pie crusts by hand. There is no joy there. And the result isn't delicious anyhow.)
I feel the same about our homemade angel food cake with lemon cream icing. So much work and attention to not spoil the whole thing but such fluffy deliciousness once completed. Doesn’t hurt when we raise the eggs that go into it so it feels slightly nutritious!
Oh oh, buttercream is my favorite frosting, no other compares, and this cake sounds delicious. Oh my, this is worth it.
But I suppose there's nothing to compare to hours of tedious and filthy work to make rice and beans and maybe a piece of chicken (?) over charcoal with no running water per say for the three phases of 'supper'.
Your cake though reminds me that I DO make my late grandmother's lemon meringue pie and though it takes well over an hour to prepare, it's worth it. No bakery or store bought can stand up to it. I wouldn't want to have to make it every day though, in the conditions you were limited to in Nosy Mangabe. No no no.
So, who has the easier life, us or the people of Nosy Mangabe?
I don't think that it can be done that way. Or rather: I don't think a single variable--"easier"--can be forced onto the two very different ways of being.
The people of Maroantsetra (for there are no permanent residents of Nosy Mangabe--only the dead in the ancient cemetery in the cave on the hill) have very spare lives, with no luxuries, and also little chance of going beyond the borders that they can already see. But if something happens to a person in Maroantsetra, their family and friends, their whole community, will do everything that they can to make it right. To ease their pain.
I believe that I (strongly) prefer a life in which I can imagine alternatives, and sometimes find them, in how other people are choosing to live, and in ecosystems that I have not yet been to. But how would I know, really? I was never in the other circumstance. Simpler is not inherently easier. Nor is it inherently worse. But it is...less, in terms of options. Again, though--more options are not necessarily better.
Even in the states, there is a wide variety of considerations.