I have not a microdrop of Irish blood coursing through my veins; therefore, the significance of this holiday is lost on me. Fortunately, being of Irish ancestry is not a pre-requisite to enjoy this festive green holiday.
I have never been one to jump on the bandwagon and have always prided myself in creating the beat and rhythm that I move to. I certainly won't start now by baking some shamrock shaped cookies or whipping up some corned beef (will blog about my Corned Beef Chronicles sometime) dish, or pasting a badge on this blog with the words "Kiss Me, I'm Irish (not)!"
Blueberry and mint with chocolate ganache macarons on my favorite green platter.
Like most things in my life, I enjoy / appreciate this holiday according to my own tune and rhythm. As quirky as this may sound, what I enjoy most about this holiday is the ubiquitous presence of the color green, my all-time favorite color. Thankfully, this color is abundant in nature.
If you haven't read my About Me page, I have pretty much spent my entire childhood in Kuwait, from age 5-12 years old, to be specific. During that time, Kuwait was a desolate, barren land of endless, undulating desert plains as far as all four of my eyes could see, punctuated with a few paved roads here and there. The only interruption to those beautiful and graceful, undulating lines of fine-grained sand were the brick flats with façades that have been bleached by the harsh Middle Eastern sun.
Making pandan paste 'cos I can't find any at the store!
The color green was mostly absent from the landscape. Not a blade of grass to pluck nor a weed to whack. The only color that livened up this drab, sandy, khaki-colored landscape was the endless cerulean sky, uncluttered not even by a single fluff of cloud and the beguiling turquoise waters of the Persian Gulf. Green and blue, the colors that are synonymous with vegetation and water, were colors of luxury in this part of world, both in the literal and figurative sense.
Since Kuwait has no arable land, all fruits, vegetables and meats were imported from somewhere else, which inflated their prices to ridiculous levels. As a result, vegetables weren't a common feature in my diet during those years.
I'm much better at creating my own 'recipes' of different shades of
green (or any other color) than creating my own food recipes.
For 8 years of my life, that was the color of my environment. Khaki. It's a word that originates from the Urdu language meaning "dust" or "earth-colored." That, my readers, is the start of my love affair with the color green, which continues to this very day. I have always been drawn to color, but no color catches all four of my eyes the way green does.
Later on in my young adult life, it was this color-deprived childhood of mine that would lead me to study art with a concentration in painting. When I was a student, during critique sessions, everytime I received compliments for my use of color, I would feel so lightheaded from all that giddiness their words were generating. However, when I was complimented on my use of composition, it just didn't have that same hydrocephalus-inducing effect.
That's right, even all that green extends into my wardrobe. The purse on right is one of my favorites. I use it when I'm having a Bohemian mood.
One of my favorite shift dresses. And no, I didn't buy that dress with '2010 The Kitchen Masochist' sewn on it! FYI, I do not wear green from head-to-toe. Being only 5'1 (155 cm), I'll end up looking like a leprechaun if I did go out in public like that!
Pistachio and blueberry macarons.
If you are a regular reader, then you know by now that green and violet are my favorite color combination.
Well, that's a glimpse of The Kitchen Masochist's quirks and eccentricities. I hope you enjoyed the glimpse into my tiny green and artsy universe. Wishing you the greenest St. Patrick's Day.
Note: I did not make any of those macarons. The humidity is quite high here in Manila to even attempt to make these lovely French treats.
Where to get macarons in Manila:
Greenbelt 3, Makati City
Greenhills Promenade, Ortigas Ave.