Luna and I are out on the road. Walking or running helps me focus when I have a problem simmering in my mind.
On this walk we consider that I need to make something for dinner. “What about shakshuka?” I wonder. I have made this a few times and it was pretty good.
Not in the mood for some of the traditional ingredients, though. Hmm. I could modify it by using something other than tomatoes.
“Does that sound good, Luna?” I ask. Of course, she doesn’t answer back because she is a dog. Still, I value her input.
Although Luna doesn’t perhaps understand the exact meaning of the specific words I speak to her, she is aware of the tone implied by those words. Alexandra Horowitz, who runs the Horowitz Dog Cognition Lab at Barnard College in New York City, notes that most dogs are able to distinguish familiar from nonsense words and process the emotional content of words.
“When we talk to our dogs,” she says, “it’s as if our private speech, the conversations we’re having in our heads, has slipped out.” That’s good enough for me. And Luna seems good with it, too.
In my continuing self-education as a decent cook (the word “chef” seems like too much for what I do.) I have enjoyed trying new recipes. I am reminded over and over again by real chefs that an aspiring cook doesn’t need to follow — perhaps even shouldn’t follow — recipes to the letter each time. So, I think I will try to modify a shakshuka recipe.
“I am sure you agree, Luna, that exploring new avenues is the way we learn. It’s like when you race off into the woods chasing some captivating smell, right?”
The word “Shakshuka” is rooted in Arabic and means “shaken together” or “mixed.” This Mediterranean dish is traditionally eggs poached in tomatoes with onions and lots of spices. Today I am not inclined to go with tomatoes as the basis of the dish. I had in mind using greens. I found a real chef, Sarah Karadsheh, who grew up in Egypt eating such fare. She offers what she calls “Green Shakshuka” which is a variation using power greens like spinach, kale and Brussels sprouts. Perfect.
We have spinach in the fridge, but no kale or Brussels sprouts. Okay, Brussels sprouts are just little cabbages and we just bought a big one of those, plus there are some leaves from the radishes we still have from our fall planting, so I think we’re good to go on the greens.
“Hey, Luna, let’s walk out to the garden to get some radishes. Go! Go! Out the door! Run to the garden! Oooh, Goood girl.”
Although they are not quite the same, Horowitz says “pet-directed” speech shares many features with baby talk. We raise our speaking pitch and often talk in a sort of singsong voice. We use limited vocabulary, cropped phrases and drop certain short words. Among the slight differences between the two ways of speaking, she says, is that with baby talk we are trying to “…teach a growing child our language. When we are talking with dogs, we are under no illusion that they will grow up to use the language themselves.”
Back in the kitchen over the stove the greens are wilting. I improvise by adding a slosh of vegetable broth and along with the added lemon juice, both bubble pleasingly. The aroma of coriander and cumin and the hint of red paper tells me it’s time. I crack four eggs and slide them into the pan, which I cover until the concoction looks ready.
“Hey, Luna. Do you think Becky is ready to eat? Go tell her it’s time for dinner! Good Dog!”
Norman Knight, a retired Clark-Pleasant Middle School teacher, writes this weekly column for the Daily Journal. Send comments to [email protected].
