Mantras
Over time, I’ve collected many tiny mantras to live by.
Always hold the door. Keep my feet on the ground. Make time for kale and champagne. Walk, don’t run. Examine everything. Write it down.
Those are a few. They’re not literal – most are merely cues for other actions – like recognizing others and finding balance and humility and looking really hard at the world, always. But they work. Now and again I glance over my little list, and they remind me to be more as I’d like to be.
Here is one more:
When in doubt, remember anchovies.
I know, I know. Anchovies. Funky salty pungent greasy messy anchovies.
My family often ate pizza on Friday nights growing up, after my littler sisters were born and we moved to the “new house.” We ordered from a Windsor restaurant called Koolini, and my dad was on to something, because they make really delicious pies. Always on the side would be an oil-slicked plastic container, stuffed with anchovies.
Dad probably got a kick that his eight-year-old daughter would dominate those little fish – draping them over pizza slices and licking the salty remnants off her fingers. But once I tried them, they just made sense, and still do – savoury and intense and cured to the best possible texture.
Anchovies, like so many things in life, are better – delicious – if you can get past a false impression. Like so many things in life, we often don’t.
My day job has taken over my weeknights for the last while. On those evenings when more work looms past dinner, when time spent cooking is replaced with computer time, it’s been anchovies to the rescue. Draped over buratta on some baguette, bracing acidic tomatoes in a quick sauce, whirred into vinaigrette to douse over romaine or roasted cauliflower. Dinners with rewards so much greater than their efforts.
I eat these little fish and I think of all the wonderful things – people, places, foods, experiences – that we never get to know because they are gross, or not our type, or out of the norm. As I am remembering anchovies, I am remembering joys that are gained through an open heart and willingness to be less dogmatic about who I am and what I like.
What are your tiny mantras? And when did you eat your first anchovy?
On Saved By the Bell, whenever Zack Morris wanted to play a prank on someone, he would order them a pizza with anchovies on it. I was always curious: why were anchovies so evil?
One day, when I was about 11 years old, Mom was ordering pizza and I asked her to put anchovies on half of it. She obliged, not fully sure where the request had come from.
As I put the slice in my mouth, I prepared for something vile — but instead, was pleasantly surprised. There was nothing vile or horrible about anchovies; they were actually quite tasty.
I didn’t eat anchovies again until I was about 24 years old, when a young woman I was dating at the time ordered them as an appetizer for dinner. I remembered enjoying them on pizza, all those years ago, so I was delighted to see them on the plate, covered in olive oil. They were even more delicious than I ever expected.
Since then, I’ve enjoyed them in my home, at restaurants, everywhere. (One of my favorite anchovy-eating experiences? At 2 Amys in DC. They go well with the amazing risotto balls.) Such wonderful little fish.
“They always need another table.”
My part-time job since Grade 11 has been as a front desk attendant at an art gallery. It’s a job with a lot of hats, one of which is setting up for special events, whether they are held by the gallery or by a group renting space for a meetings. And one thing I’ve learned over the years, which has always been true, is that it doesn’t matter what the prep sheet says or what my boss tells me the group needs: always they ask for one more table.
[...] in doubt, remember anchovies. A lovely piece about those salty little fish. [...]
i adore anchovies. it’s not something that i order often but if it’s around i’ll have a nibble. my heart belongs to sardines.
my first time was in 6th grade, i split a pizza with a friend. we were living in manila and dining at the embassy restaurant, very posh & grown up. i wanted something unusual/unique and opted for these salty fish.
a mantra that is on constant repeat in my head: “what are they going to do?!” reading it like that sounds sinister doesn’t it? it’s just a thought process for me when i want to rebel against sometihng or someone and i ask myself, “if i do this, what are they going do?” it’s immature and reckless maybe but it usually gives me the courage to actually stand up for myself sometimes.
Sameer: One benefit to being able to recall almost every dinner I’ve ever eaten out, is that I knew exactly where to look for possible anchovy photos. The other contender was the delicious tapas we ate in Barcelona before the Sagrada Familia.
Ben: I love that line in so many ways. And I have similar memories from working banquets in high school – wedding parties, baby showers, christenings – didn’t matter, they always needed another table.
Lan: I hear ya, sardines are wonderful. I really like that mantra. Something similar I use is “will this matter a year from now?” It helps me to be more assertive and also take things in stride.
[...] Christmas spirit, but I have become this season’s tireless Champion of Unloved Foods. Anchovies, for one. Cabbages, too, which I have been eating slawed and braised and stewed and sautéed and [...]
[...] Mantras (October) I eat these little fish and I think of all the wonderful things – people, places, foods, experiences – that we never get to know because they are gross, or not our type, or out of the norm. As I am remembering anchovies, I am remembering joys that are gained through an open heart and willingness to be less dogmatic about who I am and what I like. [...]
[...] Well Fed, Flat Broke Best Writing: Seven Spoons Best Photography: Crackers Best Individual Post: Anthimeria Best New Blog: Acquired Taste Best Restaurant Review Blog: Ritaboutit Best Recipe Blog: Seven [...]
dear maria- many congrats on winning in the Best Individual Post category. x shayma
Shayma: Thank you! I was tickled to hear the news yesterday.
[...] Best Individual Post: Anthimeria [...]
Just noticed you won! YAY!
Beaming over here on Empire.
[...] With this comes an odd sort of frugality I’ve cultivated over the years – one that, along with working hard, has ensured I have enough – that my well-being is not wound up in what I can and cannot have. As with other parts of my life – how I mind my pennies is driven by tiny mantras: [...]