Cipher Mag
Letter From The Editor: Bad
Letter From The Editor: Bad

Quest for a Compassionate Plate

8:00 a.m. A medium-sized watermelon or half a large melon smoothie.

10:30 a.m. A bag of grapes.

12:30 p.m. Eight persimmons and a few dates an hour before working out.

4:00 p.m. A seven-banana smoothie with five dates, one tablespoon of chia seeds, one tablespoon of hemp seeds, a few walnuts and a dash of cinnamon post-workout. 

6:30 p.m. Raw spiralized zucchini noodles with spinach, cucumbers and pumpkin seeds. Dressing: one mango, one papaya, one avocado, one tomato, chia and hemp seeds. 

9:30 p.m. Banana Ice Cream: three frozen bananas, five dates and a handful of cashews.

Gaining by Going Without

Imagine this: three days without food. For most of us, the thought of going without food is associated with eating disorders or starving children in far away places. These issues are real, but what about viewing the act of going without food, if only for a few days, as an informed, healthy choice? Fasting can, in the right context, benefit our physical, emotional and spiritual lives.

The Importance of Disgusting

The worst food I have ever eaten came from a small roadside convenience store in Redwood National Park in Northern California. I was something like eight years old and I chose an egg salad sandwich from the poorly stocked shelf. When I peeled off the shrink-wrap I saw that the moisture of the egg salad had seeped through the bread and congealed into a skin around the sandwich. I was very hungry so I bit into the slippery thing anyway. The flavor of the oozing egg and white bread that coated my tongue and the back of my teeth was far stronger than it should have been. It tasted like a wet chunk of liver, reclaimed from a few-days-dead goose. I choked down the sludge and started to cry. An earwig climbed out of my bite mark.

Searching For Mole

Oaxaca, one of Mexico’s southern-most coastal states, is widely recognized for its rich cuisine. Geographically isolated from the rest of the country, Oaxaca is a largely agricultural state with a huge diversity of climates. The state is known for its unique chiles, banana leaf tamales, fried crickets, cheese, tasajo meat, mescal and its seven famous mole sauces. I chose to study Spanish in Oaxaca this past summer with gastronomic intentions. I wanted to eat, collect recipes and learn how to cook the mysterious mole. 

Addie Was More Than a Nanny

It was the day before my fifth birthday when she first arrived. My siblings and I had already successfully scared away three nannies in two months.

She brought me a doll, a gift I promptly rejected. I was a tomboy in Greenwich, CT, and deeply offended by Addie’s pink-skirted, blond-haired peace offering. It didn’t take long for my siblings and I to realize that despite our valiant and ruthless efforts, she wasn’t going anywhere.

Home is Where the Malls Are

It all started with a giant red “W.” I’m sure that you’ve seen similar giant “W”s, as it is the symbol of the omnipresent “W” hotel chain cropping up all over the world. A hotel is one of the least intimate places to go, given that transience is its purpose (be it for travel or secrecy). Sure, you get a chocolate on your pillow and a travel-sized bottle of lotion, but so does everyone else. It only seems fitting that the construction of that impersonal “W” would be the first sign of change in my familiar birthplace of Hoboken, N.J. 

Why War Needs Intimacy

We were holding each other’s bodies, feeling each other’s heavy breath, counting each other’s quickening pulse. His skin was hot and slippery to the touch, as we were both drenched in sweat. The aroma of burning flesh filled my nostrils. I could see his dilated pupils. Torn pieces of clothing lay all around us. Our fray, illuminated by the fires, began. I hugged him under his right arm and over his left shoulder and pulled with all of my strength, fighting to stay on top. I pushed down with my shoulder pressed against his jaw. He began to scream and his screams muffled the clatter of his skull beginning to break under pressure. I will never forget the horror on his face when he understood his life was about to end. Suddenly his palate gave in, his skull shattered. I cannot tell how long our macabre communion lasted, but I know that at the end I had been spared. I was alive and my enemy was dead.