I keep having this terribly haunting dream that I'm treading barefoot through the dark furrows of a field, my steps labored not just by the quicksand-moist soil but the girth of my tummy. I think I'm going a little wonk for lack of healthy dirt.
So I've been planting crops in my little apartment kitchen. Mold crops. This one is koji mold: aspergillus oryzae, for the cultivation of miso, sake, and unusual pickles. Look! I even got to make furrows in the rice-substrate. Perhaps you can't tell from where you are, but the rice is covered with a white chalky mold, which I liken to the luminous green mist hovering over a distant field of freshly-germinated sprouts.
This is another one for the cookery-book.