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I often hear the suggestion to start writing fictional fairytales, and while I LOVE the collaboration I’ve begun with my partner, writing fairytales isn’t a huge focus for me for the same reason I don’t create things specifically tailored to children: I want to show other adults that THIS world is full of magic, right here and right now! It’s here, I promise. You don’t need to travel to another realm or another age to find it. We already live in a world where ice flowers bloom on our windows overnight, where oceans glow with tiny luminescent creatures, where tall oaks grow from tiny acorns and eat sunshine! If you can’t see the magic, you’re not looking… but don’t worry, everyone can learn to look. That’s why I am here, to show you. Just in case you’ve forgotten. 

I suppose my greatest qualification is that I have learned to find wonder in the most mundane and the darkest parts of my life. As someone with several severe chronic illnesses, I have spent a good portion of my nights in inescapable, unbearable pain. I’ve faced death a few times now. I’ve spent months in bed with only the view out my window to comfort me. The darkness of it all used to swallow me whole, but for some reason or another, I started seeking out the little glimpses of light. I watched the leaves outside my window turn from emerald to speckled yellow, then on to russet orange. Tiny, subtle transformations during what felt like eternal days. The interesting patterns of the ceiling tiles in the hospital, like finding creatures in clouds. The constellation of freckles on the back of my hand, like a tiny cluster of little stars. I found utter euphoria in the first bite of food after months of starvation, over and over again through the flare ups. I found total bliss in the breeze coming in through the window on a winter day warm enough to open it a bit. I found beauty in the colors and patterns my pain appeared as through my synesthesia. I discovered a secret: once you learn to find wonder in the pain or mundane, it’s impossible to miss in the extraordinary. 

I’m not saying that you must suffer to learn how to see or create magic. Far from it! As grateful as I am for the way my experiences have shaped me, I would not wish that kind of suffering on anyone. Instead, I encourage you to start with the mundane as a practice. Is there something in your office that makes you smile whenever you look at it? If not, could there be? That’s magic. Is there a part of your commute that is especially lovely or interesting? Could you clear your mind enough to really appreciate it the next time you pass by? That’s magic. Is there a simple food you love that could be elevated to something interesting and creative? That’s magic too. If you start viewing the ordinary parts of life through this lens of seeking wonder, soon this world will begin to feel as magical as any fantasy realm. Your life can become a real life fairytale if you let it, pain and all. 

Start with the mundane:. A pile of pine nuts to crack by the fire.  Find your rhythm. Notice the pleasingly fresh smell of the pine nuts  themselves, sweet and earthy. Feel the texture of the shells in your hand. Remind yourself that shelling nuts on a cool winter’s night dates back to ancestral times. Can you imagine your foremothers sitting around a fire long, long ago, doing exactly what you are doing now? This process is in your blood. To engage with it is its own kind of magic. 

More mundane: A can of chickpeas. Some dried pasta. Brown rice. Entirely ordinary, often everyday foods that you probably have in your pantry right now. But mix them together and you get a hearty vegan pasta dish. Infuse it with the flavor of fresh pine nuts. Smoke it with the pinion branches that evoke cozy fires in red rock country.  Even the most humble, down-to-earth comfort food deserves to be dressed up from time to time. 

When you eat something that you’ve put time, energy, focus, and creativity into, it transcends everyday food and becomes something special. With each bite, you can think about your time cozily cracking open pine nuts or gathering branches to smoke. You can taste the comfort food associations of childhood, or of a peaceful afternoon. You can feel deeply nourished. That, my dear, is magic. Do you feel it? 

Piñon Magic Pasta: 

Whisps of smoke rise from chimneys, suspended in the cold winter air. As I walk through the neighborhood, I can recognize nostalgic scents. A lot of lodgepole and ponderosa pine, like the smell of the fireplace I grew up staring into. Some fir, those fires surely crackling from the extra pitch. And then, suddenly, I freeze in place as a whiff of something deeply familiar that I haven’t smelled in a while hits my nose: piñon. My Grandmother’s house smelled like piñon pine smoke. 

Smoke, that catches you off-guard

Smoke, that pulls you back in time

Smoke, that holds you, transfixed

Smoke, that brings you home. 

The lush coastal rainforests of the Pacifc Northwest hold many, many treasures. But this precious smoke is not one of them. These gnarly pine trees are the rulers of the dry high desert on the other side of the coastal range. They mostly belong to the Southwest, but a few brave trees have ventured up into southern Idaho, where I visit them anytime I am able. 

According to naturalist John Muir, indigenous tribes would harvest the seeds by knocking the cones off of the piñon trees with poles, then stack them in a pile and lightly scorch them with fire. The burning removed the sticky resin coating the cones and loosened the seeds. My personal preference is just to gather up the fallen cones in the autumn and store them somewhere away from squirrels, then lay out on newspaper by the woodstove or heater for a few days to encourage them to open up enough to extract the seeds. It’s sticky work, but oh so worth it. 

This plant-based pasta dish is a symphony of flavors! The Pine Nut Balls are tender with just the right amount of bite (they’re not like meatballs - they are good all on their own!) They are pleasantly warm without being spicy and have rich umami undertones. Served on linguini, they are then slathered with a smoky, creamy, well-balanced sauce full of the flavor of pinion pines. Yellow peppers give it a festive color and depth of flavor, while a tiny bit of lemon juice cuts the sweetness of the coconut milk perfectly. 

Find the rest of this post and the Secret Recipe over on Patreon.com/thewondersmith!

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