“So why don’t you pretend” …

...Tender melodies of the song performed by Hugh Coltman was rising from an Iphone in the tiny kitchen of my temporary apartment; so tiny that you can listen the song from the bathroom. I admit, the word “pretend” has such an unfavorable meaning, however, in Nat King Cole’s lyrics, this word is rhyming in my ear whispering me to act, almost like putting a good show on stage, without worrying how it would end.

***

It was a little bit over a month since I relocated to a country in a land called far far away. During relocation process, I had to close my big house, pack all my belongings, cancel my accounts from digital tv platforms to local water services and do many more. It was (is) very painful, but let me say, it will be a whole different subject to write about it. I do not know who this Murphy guy is - definitely not from my hometown, but his laws are valid in most part of world. Five weeks after everything was packed, all my books, furniture, clothing, kitchen utensils are still in a giant container waiting to be shipped. I am still trying to be cool reminding myself there should be a lesson for me to learn from.

***

As soon as I arrived to this new country, I started living in one of the most beautiful hotels in the world – no exaggeration, exclamation point. Extensive in room dining menu, an international restaurant with live cooking stations, an Italian restaurant in the most stylish and authentic way were all part of this amazing hotel. On top that, area restaurants with worldwide known brands were only a cab ride away.

In oriental lands, there is an ancient expression used to describe a sweet and ritzy life: "Living in one hand dipped in honey, one hand dipped in butter". I could stand this swish way of living only for four weeks. Let me rephrase it: If this gal can’t cook, can’t function!  I had to have a form of a resident living instead of owning a luxurious traveler style. Soon enough (obviously not too soon for me), I found myself in this little one-bedroom furnished apartment in nice neighborhood with extra pounds on the hip and belly due to perpetual eating restaurant food for a month (read: pants are tight, skirts are tighter).

“Remember anyone can dream and nothing’s as bad as it may seem

The little things you haven’t got could be a lot if you pretend”

Packed my luggage in the hotel, then unpacked in the new place - which by the way looks like an Ikea showroom, was very quick. An hour later, I was pushing a chrome shopping cart in a supermarket where all labels were written in the font of a native calligraphy of Arabic in addition to Latin letters with the most soul-less font. Out of necessity, I (had to) chose reading the Latin labels.

It was either my subconscious or the imaginary navigator of the shopping cart, I stopped at the fresh produce section. At a blink of an eye, I could see a giant head of cabbage between the thin and half-rusty bars of the rolling cart. In thirty minutes, cabbage had some company of zucchinis from Lebanon, red onions from India, gala apples from Chile, melon from Jordan, apricots from Saudi Arabia, sweet lemons from Turkey, and bananas from Philippines.  I almost questioned my sustainability rules and regulations, but this time I allowed myself to skip the thought. Then, like a kiddy in a candy shop, I quickly reached to aisles of brown rice, whole wheat tortillas, strained Greek yogurt, and a box of Turkish Labneh cheese. A replica of United Nations in form of shopping bags were peacefully heading towards the parking lot. When arrived back home safe, I merely carried all the bags from the trunk of the car to the elevator.

“Pretend you're happy when you're blue, it isn't very hard to do
And you'll find happiness without an end whenever you pretend”

Shoes off, hair up, bra off, contacts off, I turned into a domestic Harriett Potter with my round black frames within seconds. I placed everything in the refrigerator so neat that the editor-in-chief of Real Simple magazine would like to have a coverage of it. With no further delay, I reached to that giant beast of cabbage head. I smiled. My friend Alice calls me “cabbage”. She would be laughing if she’d be seeing me like this.

Who knew Ikea knives were as sharp as my own precious Wustoff.  Right at that moment, “wait a second!” I said to myself. Rushed back to the purse laying on the floor in the living room, I reached to my phone and turned on Spotify’s automated playlist of “discover weekly”. I don’t know how, but spiritual souls called Spotify always choose the right song for my mood sending supporting messages from other realms.

 ***

I started chopping sweet red onions in dice. Resting on the counter, cabbage was trying to intimidate me like a giant monster.  I took a deep breath, and put my hands on the outer leaves. That’s when I realized how damaged it was, pathetic to say, but quite like my heart. I cut it in half, then ripped off a few layers of ruined leaves. Undressing each layer was extremely satisfying - like taking off an uncomfortable outfit and changing into pijamas. I looked at the stiff core before removing. I mindfully decided to keep the core. The pestilent and unwanted part of the vegetable kept my hands secure and balanced during the slicing process. Perhaps I should love my hard to chew parts as they keep me balanced like this cabbage, I sighed. After all, I do not need to soften up to be loved more, I reminded myself. Some things are true nativity and no need to distort it. Rapid knife actions quickly turned this gross cabbage into long, dainty julienne leaves. Cabbage could be an elegant vegetable as well, I thought. Drizzle of olive oil, approximately one tablespoon, barely covering bottom of the pot, joyful sound of sizzling onions until they are translucent, then thin stripes of cabbage add on. It was time to add some tomato paste, let’s say around two tablespoons. Oh no! My late grandmother who intentionally chooses to show up whenever I do a cooking shortcut was there again! She was looking above my left shoulder with a disappointed face expression while I was adding the tomato paste from a carton box. “Give me a break, grandma” I objected. “I do not have homemade tomato paste, not yet, but I promise, I will”. She gave me that look again, but her being gradually faded.

Started simmering, I put the lid on. I was in peace. Honestly saying, I even do not eat cabbage much unless I am on one of those boot camp diets. My last cooking experience was more than a month ago before I came here. Now I am finally back in charge of my own kitchen, I found myself cooking cabbage. Why on earth, simply have no idea.

Less than an hour, I put the aqueous cabbage in a soup bowl, got myself a spoon, and sat on the faux wood floor. I closed my eyes while chewing the softened pieces like broken sticks of spaghetti. Steaming bowl between my palms was warming my heart. Do you remember the scene from the movie you’ve got mail where Kathleen Kelly sits on the floor and drinks soup while she was in the deepest level of the blues? Imagine something like that….

After having a second serving, blues magically disappeared. This proved me the healing power of cabbage.  If it is good for your soul, why to ask for more. If my cabbage was so caring to me, I had to consult vegetables more often.

Hugh Coltman continued singing:

The world is mine, it can be yours my friend so why don't you pretend

***

The world was really mine, no borders, no roots, no gloominess. I even did not have to pretend. I just had to act.

***************************

The Recipe:

Kapuska - (read: kah-puss-KAH) Cabbage Stew

Although this recipe derived from Central Anatolian Cuisine, surprisingly, the word Kapuska means cabbage in Slavic languages. Don't we all are connected through food...Many says that there is only one language in music. I must add to that and say, there is only one language in cooking.

Why to give cabbage a chance:

• Powerful antioxidant
• Source of vitamin C and vitamin A
• Great source of fiber helping a healty digestion regime
• Increases immunity
• No guilt trips even after you finish the whole pot

Ingredients:

• 2 lbs Cabbage (one small head of cabbage), sliced julienne
• 2 Tbsp Olive Oil  
• 1 Large Onion, diced
• 1 Tbsp Tomato Paste
• 1 Tbsp Bulghur
• 1 tsp Salt
• 1 tsp Chilli Pepper Flakes
• 1/2 tsp Freshly Cracked Black Pepper
• 3 Cups Boiling Water

- Rip off a few layers of cabbage leaves if they are damaged. Cut the cabbage in half. Then slice it in julienne with a sharp knife 

- Put the olive oil in the pot, add the onions until they are half translucent

- Add tomato paste in the pot, slowly stir with onions

- Add cabbage, stir well

- Lower the temperature of the heat

- Close the lid of the pot, cook everything in low heat with its own juice for like 15 mins

- Then, add 3 cups of boiling water, bulghur, salt, black pepper and chilli pepper flakes

- When it all start to boil again, put the lid back on, lower the heat

- Cook for another 20 minutes. Add a little bit more water if needed

ENJOY!

- Yesim Insel

Yesim Insel, a true hotelier of 25 years in luxury industry planning and organizing weddings, social events and conferences, has lived in Istanbul, Chicago, and Washington, DC. Her current assignment is in Kuwait where she recently relocated with her 5-year old son. Being a gemini full with stories to tell, Yesim is in the process of writing her very first novel.
 

Music: "Pretend" by Nat King Cole. Performed by Hugh Coltman