San Simeon: Post Apocaliptic Quisine

So you're hankering for some fresh greens, a salad let's say. 

But let us also say it's the Second Coming of Covid, much worse than before, or some other such catastrophe. Supermarkets are decimated, produce is rotten and civilization has circled down the bowl with a quick flush.

What are you going to do?

Do you want to starve yourself to an ugly death, all the while surrounded by nature's bounty?

No need to, my lucky friend, because YOU LIVE IN SAN SIMEON, CALIFORNIA!

Within 200 yards of wherever you happen to be standing in this delightful burg, is everything needed to throw together that tasty bowl of greens you've been craving.

So let's fix you up with some greens!

San Simeon Salad 

WILD TURNIP PLANTS

In San Simeon, wild turnup plants are ubiquitous (like, everywhere) and are the go to plant for post apocalyptic produce.

Wild turnups are noted for their pink to white flowers with only four petals attached to their center.  Most parts are edible--especially the leaves and pod-like fruit resembling supermarket pea pods.

The leaves and pod fruit are low in calories and high in fiber as well as vitamin C, potassium, and manganese.

Turnip health benefits include improved immunity, increased regularity, weight loss and better heart health.  They may also contain cancer fighting compounds that can help protect against several types of cancer.

But don't try to eat the root; you'd need the teeth of beaver to chow down on that puppy.

We will begin with the lettuce-like leaves. Gather about two cups of turnup greens--from areas not likely to be frequented by dogs. There's nothing nutritious about dog piss.

RINSE THOROUGHLY just in case, and then pat dry.

Likewise, wash the fruit pods (after trimming off the fibrous tips shown below) which will add a satisfying crouton crunch to your salad. Look for pods that are young and tender, deep green and nearly mature.

Perform the same process as with the leaves, selecting the younger ones to avoid any bitterness that might spoil the excellent nut and peppery taste.

But remember these ingredients MUST be gathered from the wild turnip, the only four petaled flower to be found in San Simeon!

I think.

Failure to look for these four airplane prop-like petals could result in a harvest of a very different pink/white flowered plant, the morning glory:

Eating these cup shaped flowers above could go badly for you. All parts of the morning glory, especially the seeds, are suffused with a chemical derivative of LSD. Side effects could include dissociation, paranoid ideation and terrifying hallucinations. Seek medical help immediately.

But even with the right stuff in hand, picky eaters might find the furry underbelly of the turnip leaf objectionable with its nettle-like roughness. You might consider quick-boiling the leaves beforehand, maybe even flash roasting them over a fire.

But if turnips with all their nutritional goodness still can't satisfy your salad cravings, consider a different leafy green--and my favorite . . .

THE NASTURTIUM

. . . which has, unlike the wild turnip, leaves that are smoother on both sides, larger and more tender. They are round in shape with spokes radiating out from a central point:

The flower has five petals which are clawed, with the lower three unlike the upper two.

As a bonus, the unfolded flower buds (see round objects, bottom of

photo above) make excellent capers and add texture to your salad.

Nasturtiums are kick-ass nutrition, containing many vitamins and minerals including: 

 

Vitamin C: a high level of vitamin C is found in the leaves and petals of nasturtiums. 

 

Vitamins A, B, and B6 are found in the leaves. 

 

Potassium, phosphorus, calcium, and magnesium: found in the flowers and other parts of the nasturtium plant. 

 

Manganese, copper, iron, flavonoids, beta carotene--also found in the flowers and other parts of the plant.

And there's this: nasturtiums are rich in antioxidants, such as anthocyanins and polyphenols. The leaves also contain an enzyme called myrosinase, which has bactericidal, fungicidal, and virucidal qualities. 

Not to mention that nasturtiums are SUSTAINABLE (do not deplete natural  resources) and classified as NATURALIZED.  No they can't pass a citizenship test, but they are prolific and able to take care of themselves in the wild.  All the above nasturtium photos were taken in the vicinity of my backyard fence, where lush scarlet volunteers flourish without my intervention or care.

If you care to fact check me, turn off Highway 1 heading toward Shamel Park.  Look left and right and you'll see veritable jungles of naturalized nasturtiums.

 

Yeah, they may be a little invasive but can you ever get enough nutrition after Armageddon has spoiled all your dinner plans?

But let's get back to our San Simeon Salad. Most people like to zest up their greens with dressing.

I've got two ideas for this. . .

FENNEL

Do you like licorice?

I do.

I would even put licorice flavored dressing on my post apocalyptic salad!

Fennel is one of three plants used over the years to extract licorice flavoring.

You've seen fennel along the highway, right? During the fall, the green tops turn yellow and bitter.

Seek out instead the lower, greener clusters (see lower right of photo above) for their tenderness and sweet taste. 

And the young fernlike sprouts (below) make for a great garnish. Or they could be eaten a la carte, enjoyed solely for the rich spicy flavor typical of the mustard family.

And it makes an excellent off-label dressing.

Do you know what a mortar and pestle is? 

Neither do I.

But you can place a cup of washed green flower tops in a ceramic bowl. Then begin mashing them with a blunt object--but not a hammer!

Add several tablespoons of water and continue crushing until well pulverized. Strain off what's left and use the liquid remains as a dressing. 

Should you have any extra green tops, put them in your mouth and eat them. They're like candy, very sweet and refreshing!

Now another cautionary note. Fennel is not the only umbrellate in the San Simeon area.

That my friend is HEMLOCK, the poison given to Socrates by his reactionary students. That did not go well for the famous Greek philosopher as you may recall. 

Hemlock is also prolific in San Simeon, growing in and around Fennel. So let's examine Hemlock more closely:

Same height, stems, and umbrella like flower clusters. 

But can you see the one difference?

...

....

.....

(wait time)

THAT'S RIGHT!

They're white

Not yellow, not green, but white.

WHITE!  WHITE!  WHITE!

You see, I once tried to explain this critical difference to a hiking friend of mine. Further down the trail, I watched in horror as he put something white into his mouth.

I suggested that my friend spit out the Hemlock and to get back to me about any unusual developments or side effects (like death). 

Well now, does licorice dressing sound too weird and dangerous for you?

 

How about MINT dressing?

YERBA BUENA

. . . is found in shaded, wet areas near our local creeks and springs:

Gather some of these minty leaves and subject them to the same crushing treatment as fennel.

Notice the two red leaves on the lower right? Poison oak has photobombed my pic. So be careful in the gathering of Yerba Buena as it is often mingled with poison oak, a bad news plant that will make your life a living Hell.

Easily identified by the pungent odor emitted when rubbing a leaf between two fingers, Yerba Buena is, in my opinion, worth risking an exposure to poison oak. 

You can also dry the leaves and make some tasty tea. Yerba Buena was once a favorite of the Mission Fathers who once inhabited this area.

As an added bonus (or curse if you abhor stimulants), Yerba Buena has half the caffeine of coffee. Not exactly Starbucks but a heck of lot cheaper.

As Porky the Pig would say, That's All folks!

And speaking of pork--or any other dead animal meat, future posts may explore such delicacies as . . .

Broiled Bugs 

Buffalo Lizard Wings

Baked Bunny

Sardines Ceviche

Squirl Kabobs

Bastid Bambi  

Vienna Vulture Sausages

Barbecued Zebra Butt

If you you have any recipes that might increase the likelihood of mankind's survival, feel free to submit them.

Remember. . .

Prepare for the APOCALYPSE NOW.

And now a few last words of caution:

The recipes in this blog are suggestions only and do not necessarily represent the opinions of the AMA or any other reputable medical or botanical organization. Nor have they been tested by either the Food and Drug Administration or SSSWAD (San Simeon Sewer and Water District). 

Consult your doctor before starting this diet. 

Side effects may include bloating, bad breath, simultaneous constipation and diarrhea, Richter Scale gas emissions, and funerals.

Eat at your own risk.

And for God's sake, don't be a KAREN and come whining to me if you die or get a bellyache!

---@JRRLITLOVER, LLB

     (a limited liability blogger)

P.S. 

As I write this in the fall of 2024, dozens of NAKED LADIES have bloomed in the field beyond my fence.

 

They're beautiful but deadly.

Don't eat naked ladies.

Tucson Hits 90 in 2020

Outside my window a lizard does pushups to dissipate the heat . . .
Guess I should get down on the carpet and generate some health.

The Process

                                             
I choose rocks that look to have been ripped from the ground of some long forgotten place.

I shape them while headphones blare Skillet, Slayer and Iron Maiden. Sharp edged and irregular, they are now more like primitive weapons than jewelry.

I show them to my wife. She suggests a civilized shapes, rounded edges,
symmetry and smoothness.

I polish them with headphones back on. Though I began with heavy metal,
I finish with love songs.

Where Have All The Children Gone?

Today I entered the movie theatre of my youth, the one we cajoled our father into taking us most every Satuday. It was a grumpy ride down State Street but worth it. He got a few hours free from our bickering and fighting, we got entrance to a magic place: The Fox Arlington of Santa Barbara, California.

It was mostly the same. I walked past the old ticket booth, down thr 100 yard academy award-like foyer to the new high tech ticket office.

Beyond the usual snack bar, I passed into the courtyard of a staged spanish presidio, complete with astronomically correct constellations above. I tried taking a photo of the big dipper but it didn’t turn out.

Before long I was into The Lion King, beautifully put together, just enough Shakespearian evil and drama to engage all generations and a strident but not too obtrusive soundtrack.

But looking around in the semi-darkness, something was off.
I had deliberately come on a Saturday to enjoy this movie with hordes of sticky face preadolescents. Instead I counted twelve others in attendance, all deep in the throws of geezerdom.

It was a sunny Saturday afternoon, no sunami warnings. Granted it now costs $8 to use the back parking lot, and granted Santa Barabara is over built, overly marketed and these days over crowded.

But still, it was a great movie.
Where were the kids?

Express Lane

                                    Express Lane

(A meeting, a speaker, the subject homelessness. Reminded of a story written forty years ago when cheap wine was cheaper, but nothing much different)

Satisfied, the cashier closed the drawer and adjusted his apron. Everything was in order. He flipped the switch: EXPRESS LANE, 9 ITEMS OR LESS, CASH ONLY

A glowing sign drew customers like moths to a flame.

They jockeyed for positions.

Last place went to a young couple who momentarily hesitated and allowed a woman in curlers to cut them off on their final approach.

Second place went to a young mother whose cart contained a two year-old and the three items her family never had enough of--detergent, diapers, and doughnuts.

First place went to a man in a torn jacket.

Unaware that he had won the contest, the man placed a bottle on the conveyor belt. The cashier scanned it efficiently, a green bottle with a red and gold label offset by large white letters, "Thunderbird"

"That'll be $2.79," the cashier said standing in perfect clerk posture.

The man in the torn jacket dropped coins, scattering them over the counter

The cashier bent over his offering and began pointing and counting.

"That's not enough," he pronounced.

The man in the torn jacket sprinkled more coins onto the counter then pushed trembling hands back into his pockets.

"You still don't have enough."

From the back of the line came a long sigh.

The mother of the two year-old turned. She saw a lady in curlers with an exasperated look on her face.

While she did this, the man in the torn jacket had run out of pockets and coins, the man in the torn jacket stared down at the floor.

The young mother opened her wallet and dropped several quarters.

"Thank you very much, Mam--that was very kind."

His speech was halting, child-like.

"You're welcome--" the young mother started to say.

"That's still not enough," the cashier said.

He looked uncertainly from the old man to the young woman.

She took out a dollar from her purse and laid it on the counter.

The cashier frowned, recounting the money.

And he was not alone. Everyone in line leaned forward and did their own calculations, a high stakes poker game where precious minutes of inconvenience stood at risk.

The cashier swore under his breath and pulled a nickel from his pocket, throwing it into the till.

"Thanks again, Mam," mumbled the man with the torn jacket,
  You're a beautiful person, you really are."

And he continued to thank her until the bottle was bagged and quickly passed through automatic doors.

Someone tapped the young mother on her shoulder.

"Thanks, hon. I thought we'd never get rid of that scumbag."

She said nothing. 
Then the two year old previously occupied with his Hot-Wheels, grabbed Rolaids some from the check-out display.

"No, Tommy," she said replacing the medicine onto the shelf, "That's not good for you."

The cashier rang up her purchase.

"That's right. Just like wine isn't good for winos. That'll be $11.29."

The mother pawed through her purse, made no reply.

"You know, that guy comes in here three times a week to pull off that same old scam," the cashier said handing her the receipt.
With reddening cheeks the young mother looked away and saw the man with the torn jacket beyond the glass doors. He walked between two stores and disappeared into an alley.

She took possession of her grocery bag and rolled her cart blindly out the door. Her son safe in his car seat, she rested her head against the steering wheel.

A minute passed.

She turned the ignition and pointed the car toward the alley.

He hadn't gotten far.

She found him sitting on flattened boxes between two garbage bins.

The bottle was out now and his eyes lit up like a child with a much anticipated present.

Her lips tightened.
She reached for something in her purse. 
The window rolled down, her hand tightened.
An arm shot out toward the man in the torn jacket.

And she dropped it, a crumpled twenty dollar bill...

The woman with the child drove away, her vision blinded by tears.

 

Signs

On a side street in Cambria.
Ever wonder where it stops?

The city's largest cemetery.
Hmm...



Don't believe me?
Look at this:

Now that's nice. Things are clarified.
Except there are no bridges on Bridge Street.



Okay let's move on.
It's a long and dusty road:

Where does it lead?




Hold on, there's another sign:

And wouldn't it be nice if life had signs like this?
You've got 500 days, 5 months, or even 5 minutes.
A little warning would be appreciated...



But then, suddenly, there you are:

Count it. Twice reminded that this is a cemetery. What else could it be, an exposition of finely polished granite?


But let's get serious. This is a place for dead people.
And we must respect their transitions.
Still there's hope: (look at the size of that mailbox!)

Makes me happy to know friends and relatives can still get in touch, albeit snail mail.
And there must be one Hell-uva-party after 4:00 pm.
And please don't intrude upon us.



But let's get serious.

Besides tombstones, there are drawers.
And in one of these my ashes will reside
With Deb's.
She might be stuck with me for a while.

In fact, you will be able to find us in the third vault over, second row down, fourth over...
I think...
or is the the fifth?

Oh heck, just surprise me!
Life and death always do.

But I'm certain about what will be engraved on our little copper sign:

                    At the end, nothing remains but love

Sticks and Stones

Yesterday was a good day for stones

But not so good for bones

 

 

Still standing despite the sticks (and the ticks).