Awe

First, a quick note to my (four) loyal subscribers. I recently received a notice from Google that the "Follow by Email" widget over there on the right side of the page will be going bye-bye this summer. So as of July 2021, the email subscription service will be discontinued and you'll no longer receive new episodes by email but will instead have to visit UaKS every so often to keep an eye out for the latest and greatest.

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Here is a photo I took not long ago from our deck facing toward Carter Mountain before heading out on an early morning run:

 

I don't know of much that induces awe in me more than a beautiful sunrise/sunset or the mountains, and here they are in combination.

Dacher Keltner, a professor of psychology at UC Berkley and co-founder of the Greater Good Science Center, defines "awe" as "the feeling we experience when encountering vast things that we don’t understand." [1] While big nature scenes may be the quintessential time we experience awe, Prof. Keltner says we can also feel awe "in response to others’ kindness and courage, ... music, religious or spiritual practice, the visual and dramatic arts, and epiphany." We actually feel awe physically as "the chills, tears, and the chest-warming sense of being part of something larger than our egos. It leads us to share, collaborate, and wonder."

 

In fact, Prof. Keltner's studies have shown that awe is unique among the positive emotions (which include hope, interest, joy, love, compassion, pride, amusement, and gratitude) in turning us "away from narrow self-focus and toward the interests of our collective group," as Florence Williams reported in her excellent book The Nature Fix (2017). One of his studies showed that of all the positive emotions, awe was the strongest predictor of significantly lower levels of interleukin-6, a communication molecule essential to coordinating and promoting inflammatory processes in our bodies. Why should our physiology work this way? Prof. Keltner thinks it's because awe causes us to reinforce social connections, which are crucial to human flourishing. In other words, "[a]we wants to be shared" with others, as Williams puts it.

 

If you do feel awe from big nature scenes, it doesn't even take a trip to the mountains (though you should take a trip to the mountains, or to the beach or a lake!). You can experience a small dose of awe just from watching an amazing video like this one (watch on a laptop or desktop in full-screen mode, not on your puny little phone):

 

This may be especially awe-some for Mom and me, because it reminds us of our honeymoon. But if you liked this four-minute video, you should try Koyaanisqatsi. [2]

 

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[1] This definition and the rest of the quotes in this paragraph are drawn from Prof. Keltner's article on "How the Science of Awe Shaped Pixar’s Soul," a movie I swear I will not sleep through the next time I watch it. See also Keltner, "Why Do We Feel Awe?"

 

[2] No, I am not fucking kidding you, but thank you for asking.

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In yet another in my continuing series of recipes that none of you may ever want to try, here is an easy method for making preserved lemons that worked significantly better than my first first failed effort. I'm going to have to scout out more ways to use these, but they are worth having around in my book just to include in what may now be my favorite dinner recipe on all of UaKS: Zuni Pasta with Tuna and Pine Nuts.

 

Preserved Lemons

Adapted from Alton Brown from the Food Network (Good Eats Season 15) and his website

Time: <15 minutes

 

Preserved lemons are a great addition to Zuni Pasta with Tuna and Pine Nuts; AB uses them in his shakshuka and to make lemonade. Many people suggest adding flavorings (such as a cinnamon stick, black peppercorns, whole coriander seeds, and/or dried chiles) to the jar when preserving lemons, but that seems to decrease their utility to me by introducing flavors that you may not want in a particular dish you're making (and definitely not in lemonade).

4 ripe lemons, scrubbed and dried, plus some of the juice of another lemon if needed
40 grams (~¼ cup) Diamond Crystal kosher salt

    1. Trim about ½ inch off the ends of each lemon; save the ends. Slice each lemon into 8 wedges, taking out any obvious seeds and reserving any juice that is released in the process.
    2. Place 4 lemon wedges in the bottom of a clean, 16-ounce canning jar. Sprinkle with salt (~1½ teaspoons). Repeat with the remaining wedges, packing the jar tightly and pressing down to release the lemons’ juice as you go. You want to leave about ¼ to ½ inch of headspace at the top of the jar, so leave out some of the wedges if you have to. Add any juice from the cutting board and whatever you can squeeze out of the reserved lemon ends, then add however much juice you need, if any, from another lemon to cover the wedges.
    3. Refrigerate the jar for 4 days, then flip it over (make sure the lid is tight) and leave it for another 4 days. Flip it back, and you should be ready to go (the peel should be nice and soft), though it may take up to a month to develop peak flavor and texture. Preserved lemons should keep for months (AB says "indefinitely") in the fridge. Rinse the peels before using. Makes 1 pint.