Walking and Foraging in New Jersey

Top row: Sassafras (the edible root is left of the leaf), White Staghorn Sumac berries.
Bottom row: Crab Apple, Wood Sorrel.

Funny thing happened when I moved to New York. Even though I'd lived in way more nature-loving places like, say, Indiana and California, I didn't really take to hiking and camping until I moved here. To be sure, getting a dog probably had something to do with it. And tapping into that extra burst of joy that comes from watching him totally be in his element — zipping along the trail, lapping up the fresh spring water, and flushing out the occasional forest critter.

The other part I really like about hikes is finding and eating wild things. I had my eye out for mushrooms, but as we didn't stray too far off the trail, I knew I wasn't likely to find much. I was delighted, however, when I realized that the red-turning leaves and dark pink fluffy cones I'd been admiring belonged to a sumac tree. It was probably a little late in the season as they were already turning dry and brown, but I found one that didn't look too bad and after positively identifying it with my Wildman Bill app, I gently broke apart the drier outer layer, plucked a few of the berries loose and popped one in my mouth. Whoa, was it zingy! It tasted slightly of tart raspberries, although I'm not sure if the color affected my taste perception. Would be perfect mashed with some whisky, honey, and mint I'm sure.

As we walked further, I noticed tiny stalks of sassafras under the forest canopy. These are super easy to identify, because I am pretty sure it is the only plant with THREE different leaves on a single plant. An adorable mitten leaf, as pictured above, a three-lobe leaf, and a single lobe leaf. You can also find these planted on the Highline, too, along with other indigenous plants. I didn't have a gardener's shovel with me, so I avoided any of the really stalky, mature ones and found a scrawny one about knee height that wasn't yet cemented into the soil. I peeled away the dirty outer layer and nibbled at the root. The licorice-y taste is unmistakeable. It's where root beer comes from.

Wood sorrel is easy to spot. It looks similar to clover, but the leaves are heart-shaped, and in the spring, they're adorned with tiny yellow flowers. They flanked the dirt trail wherever the grasses thinned out. You can also find them popping up in city parks, in your neighbor's neglected pots, and other edge habitats. The delicate leaves taste super lemony and are great in salads or in a drink.

We turned back when we got to a rocky scramble about an hour in. The wide slanting jumps, and steep crevices made me nervous for Arlo. It didn't help that he whined when I strayed too far and circled around without finding easy passage. On the way back, we stepped out onto a smaller boulder set overlooking the estuary. Upon spotting a brown rotting apple on the ground, and then another, I looked up to find a magnificent crab apple tree, the branches overlapping each other and teeming with little golden apples. Of course I had to try one. The tartness immediately sucked all the moisture from my mouth, not unlike drinking a meaty Cabernet. I offered a bite each to my hiking buddy and Arlo. We finished the single apple, but didn't venture for any more.

Thinking back on it today, I wish we could've gotten past that scramble to look for the supposed waterfall... Is it time to invest in some kind of dog hiking harness? Has anyone ever used one?

Don't forget this guy. 

My 2003 Blackout Story

Photo: Sarah Glidden, minicloud on flickr.com

Photo: Sarah Glidden, minicloud on flickr.com

Photo: Sarah Glidden, minicloud on flickr.com

Photo: Sarah Glidden, minicloud on flickr.com

I was working at an ad agency in Tribeca, the power went out and everyone was feeling a little nervous / giddy when the computers went down and the lights went off. We walked down the (I forget how many, not too many) flights of stairs down to the street level and more and more people started to exit their buildings.

Once we realized it was not another attack on the city, we all left and headed home. I walked across the Williamsburg bridge. The Hassidic Jews on the Brooklyn side were handing water out to everyone (forgot about this until I saw the photos!).

I checked in with my friend Joey who invited me over to eat steaks she had in the freezer and we fired up the grill. I think we found a bar afterward that was unloading their beers for free while the kegs were still cold -- not hard to find. We passed people shopping in bodegas by flashlight, regular people controlling traffic in major intersections. Everyone was acting how I wish they would more often, we were all in this together.

What's your story?

Let an Asian American Person Explain Why The KTVU Prank Is Racist

After reading numerous comments from the Internet ignorami, I felt compelled to say something. And that is:

America, please stop trying to whitesplain away the racism.

Do you have fat friends? Do you call them Fatty McFattersons? Do you have black friends? Do you call them Jiggaboo Jeffersons?

Yes, I can appreciate the humor. It IS a funny play on words. But if any of my friends came up to me and said, "Hey Ho Chi Minh, what's going on?" I'd probably be like, WTF is your problem? (And then break out some karate moves, because obviously I'm a black belt.)

Why this is not "just like Bart Simpson calling the bar to ask for Seymour Butts." 

Because it serves to perpetuate the "foreignness" of Asian culture. It goes back to the those jokes about how does a Chinese person name their child? They throw a stick at a can. Haha, those Chinese people. Their language is so weird, a real American could NEVER understand it.

Well those Chinese people ARE Americans, and until white America fully embraces Asian cultures as one of their own, jokes like this are pretty much not okay.

And what about the children?!

I can just imagine all the childhood bullies taking this as justification to torment the Asian kids with (or without) funny names in the schoolyard. Can't say I haven't been there.