Energized Eating’s Blog

Deep in the heart of the newly refurbished downtown Wild Rice Super Wholefoods store, self professed macrobiotic hip chick, Shiitake Jones was carefully inspecting a batch of new season biodynamic short grain brown rice in the bulk foods section. It seemed to be of reasonable quality so she filled several brown paper bags with it, collected her chickpeas, adzuki beans and barley and headed off in search of some rare quality wildcrafted kuzu collected under the full moon by Mongolian peasants in the middle of winter. It would be such a relief to cross that off her shopping list.

Absentmidedly nibbling on an organic puffed rice and barley malt candy bar, she knew she shouldn’t be shopping at spleen time of day and mentally chastised herself for leaving her thermos of sweet vegetable drink on the back seat of her yellow semi electric car.
It was then that she caught a glimpse of macrobiotic potential of a different kind making his way from the noodle aisle to the dangerous territory of the deli section where all kinds of nightshade temptations lay in wait to distort blood chemistry and pave the metabolic way for a host of degenerative conditions.
A quick glance at his shopping cart, piled high with almost every macrobiotic staple imaginable confirned Shiitake’s interest. His chiselled jaw and rugged good looks only helped matters. There was no mistaking a copy of her favourite volume The Hip Chick’s Guide to Macrobiotics tucked under his arm. Her heartbeat quickened as a box of quinoa slipped, oh so clumsily from her hands, conveniently landing right at his feet.
He looked up from careful examination of his shopping list to find the rather strikingly toned figure of Shiitake, still in yoga attire from the inversions class she had given that morning at the ajoining yoga studio. He bent down by her Birkenstock clad feet and retrieved the wayward box of Inca grain and handed it to her as their eyes locked.
“There you go, darlin’,” he said looking her up and down as subtly as he could, as Shiitake swooned. “That is good stuff - I had some for breakfast.”
No one had ever spoken to Shiitake about breakfast or even Quinoa for that matter in such seductive tones. She knew she couldn’t let him get away. He was all yang, she thought.
Shiitake didn’t even have to ask if he was macrobiotic. If he even knew what quinoa was, he had her interest. As for the question if he was single, she could only hope. She tucked a tendril of hennaed hair behind an amethyst adorned ear and tilted her head at a seductive angle as her eyelids fluttered just a little more than her Gloria Steinham quoting mother would have deemed appropriate.
“My name is Shiitake. Shiitake Jones,” she said, extending a shea butter conditioned hand.
“I’m Ken,” he replied.
“Oh, you’re into Zen!” Shiitake exclaimed and wasn’t sure why he looked a little puzzled and hadn’t offered his name. Ear candles were a little further down Shiitake’s shopping list.
Thinking quickly, Shiitake blurted out, “that’s a lot of interesting ingredients you have in your cart there, Zen boy. Are you new to macrobiotics?”
He nodded so she quickly continued before she could lose her nerve, “I have a one night macrobiotic intrdoductory cooking class scheduled for the end of the week. Would you like to come along?”
Before the words were even out of her mouth, Shiitake wondered what she would prepare at this impromptu event.

How will this new macrobiotic meeting of yin and yang develop…?

Being kinda hip, but not quite a chick, and a little at a loss with what to do with all the intriging items in his shopping cart, will Ken enthusiastically accept Shiitake’s invitation to her…..’cooking class’?

or

Does he see his girlfriend emerge from the mineral water aisle and remember that she has already signed him up for some wholefood cooking lessons and politely decline as he heads for the deli section.

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