Night Before Ramadan:
When I was 5 years old, I would fast on weekends and only half a day to prepare for growing up when I would fast the entire month.
The first fast I broke accidentally, I drank a box of grape juice on a Sunday while I was babysitting my 4 year old brother. I was 8 years old. I remembered I was fasting after the last drop of grape juice was emptied from the little waxy box. I cleaned the entire house in pennance. I admitted it to my father, teary-eyed and sorry. He said, "It's okay God invited you to drink the juice. Tomorrow is another day to start over."
Perhaps this is where my optimism began.
Tonight, I made lamb qorma with asparagus. I've prepped onions, jalapeno peppers, garlic, and tart dried plums for the qufta (meatball) qorma (simmered down stew) that I am planning. The onions, garlic and jalapenos to season the minced meat. The dried plum is for the center of the qufta a surprise streak of tart in the center of a meaty meal.
In honor of Ramadan I will post up some recipes and keep a diary of food and prayers for this month of pause; a pause in which we look deep into ourselves and reorganize ourselves.
(This Ramadan card is odd. It's an Urdu card but the dudes are white cartoon men. And... white cartoon men who look like they are ready to smooch! Oh those Urdu Ramadan cards!)