Shiitake thought Ken was right behind her when she stormed off from Gloria’s stall at the Farmers’ Market. It had been bad enough to run into her most tiresome yoga student on her day off, but to find out that Gloria had shared an office romance with Ken had heated Shiitake’s blood more than the drop of ginger juice in her morning miso soup. She was a little surprised at herself. She had never had a jealous streak before.
Ken would have been right behind Shiitake had he not taken a moment to say a hurried "see ya later" to Gloria and to pop one of her jam tarts in his mouth. By the time he pushed his way through the crowd, however, Shiitake was nowhere to be seen. After some skirmishes and tousling with patrons rushing for mid-morning specials at a hydroponic tomato stall, Ken thought maybe Shiitake had jumped into her electric hybrid car and left him stranded. Those tomatoes are far too yin, Ken thought absentmindedly, and I am sure Shiitake would frown on the fact that they are grown without any soil. Ken was starting to realize how Shiitake’s ideas had permeated his existence and how Shiitake herself had found her way into his heart. And then he spotted her. There was his Shiitake in the distance, enveloped in a wild embrace with a muscle-bound, sun-bronzed man clad in Thai fisherman pants and not much else.
"Oh, there you are Ken," said Shiitake without a trace of embarrassment as he approached her. Ken thought she made it sound like he had been the one to wander off, but let that slide. He was more concerned with the burly figure practically enveloping Shiitake who by this stage had pulled Shiitake’s arms behind her while gently placing his knee between her shoulder blades for leverage.
"Thank goodness I found Theo and his Thai Massage stall when I did," Shiitake continued, as if having a conversation in this pose was not unusual. "Thai Massage is like being yoga-ed," she explained to Ken who was looking a little bewildered. "It always helps me to unwind and Gloria tends to wind me up at the best of times."
Shiitake thought she saw Ken cringe a little at that remark and instantly regretted making a point of the encounter with his former flame.
"I’ll just wait over there while you finish unwinding then, Shiitake," he said diplomatically, thinking it couldn’t have been easy for her to find out about his history with Gloria like that.
When Shiitake’s tensions had been completely stretched out of her, she made her way to Ken who had made of point of staying within viewing distance of Theo and his manipulations. Shiitake put her arms around Ken’s waist and gave him a quick hug to signify all was tranquil again in her world. Ken had been standing near the organic wine-tasting stall and was already sampling a drop of preservative-free, biodynamic blueberry wine.
"It’s a little early in the day for that Ken," Shiitake admonished him. "And remember what happened the last time you and alcohol interacted…"
She thought back to the evening they first kissed. Maybe it is not such a bad idea, she thought, and downed a thimble-sized sample of Strawberry Shiraz.
"Come on," Shiitake said, invigorated by the rush it sent through her liver meridian. "Time to see if there is any exciting sourdough bread. I usually bake my own but sometimes there are some artisan’s breads worth looking at."
As Shiitake interrogated the baker, Ken took the opportunity to sample some donuts that may have been handmade, but whose composition was anything but unrefined.
As he put it into his mouth he could feel Shiitake’s eyes on him. He hastily swallowed the last bite, wiped the crumbs from his mouth, and whirled round.
"Babe, did you find any bread?" he asked. "They look nice but their starter is not a true sourdough," Shiitake explained. "They use baker’s yeast to boost it which is totally unnecessary of course. And some yeast-free loaves have baking soda added to them." Ken shook his head in what Shiitake took to be disbelief at these practises. She continued, "You know how they both effect blood quality. Ohsawa himself warned about how yin they are. I’ll whip up some real sourdough bread at home with my 102-year-old-Russian-rye-sourdough starter. Nothing beats that…" While Shiitake sampled local olive oil and bought some root vegetables, Ken inspected garden sculptures made from recycled floorboards. Then she spotted him at the cheese tasting display and muttered something under her breath about Ken congesting his lung chi, even if it was made with biodynamic milk and non-animal rennet. Shiitake sidled up to him as he was inspecting a tub of biodynamic unpasteurised unhomogenized probiotic enhanced sheep’s milk yogurt. "Ewe," said Shiitake. "Shiitake!" said Ken, "I know how you feel about dairy products but that’s no way to talk about these products in front of the farmer." As Shiitake was about to protest that was not what she meant, the farmer chortled and said, "It’s okay laddie. The lass here was just pointing out that the milk is of course obtained from the female sheep—the ewe. We have 50 on our organic farm and they are all treated as well as members of the family." "I guess you wouldn’t suffer from insomnia with all those sheep to count!" laughed Ken. Shiitake rolled her eyes but her heart swelled with affection for Ken all the more. She loved a man with a sense of humor, even if it was a little lame. "Did you get your turnips?" Ken asked. "I sure did," Shiitake indicated the greens—still attached to the roots—poking out from her carry bag. Shiitake was touched by his consideration. Even if turnips were not his thing, yet he really cared that she found what she was looking for. Even her shiatsu teaching, Japanese flute playing, Tantra practising ex-boyfriend had not been that thoughtful. In fact, none of the men whose new-age charms she had fallen for in recent years had even come close to how considerate Ken seemed to be. His chiselled jaw and disarmingly appealing grin were also doing little to prevent Shiitake from falling for him. As the morning wore on, Shiitake spotted Ken eyeing the venison sausage sizzle. She thought he appeared to be as transfixed as a Labrador outside a butcher shop’s window. The sustaining effects of Shiitake’s breakfast miso soup and oatmeal were beginning to wear off. Feeling peckish, she pulled a rice ball wrapped in a brown paper bag out of her handbag. How many supplies could she keep in there? Ken thought incredulously, looking on. "Would you like a rice ball, Ken? I have an extra one. They are very balancing. That’s because the way they are constructed. The ume plum in the center and the rice and nori around the edges are a microcosm of Mother Earth and they can make us feel centered and grounded." "No thanks, Shiitake, but I think I fancy one of those lentil burgers on organic-sprouted-spelt buns that are for sale over there." Shiitake beamed her approval, wrapped up her rice ball, and decided to join him. "Mmm," she nodded approvingly biting into one. Ken reached over and wiped a little relish from her cheek. Shiitake’s stomach somersaulted at his touch and it had nothing to do with the spicy relish. "Have you got all you came for, Shiitake?" asked Ken as they finished off their vegetarian burgers. Getting back into Shiitake’s car, Ken was reflecting that it was just like a real-life toy car. It was at that moment that he hit his head while trying to squeeze in beside a cabbage and a stalk of celery that rivalled him in height. As Shiitake pulled out of the parking lot, Ken wondered if it was the bump on his head or his feelings for Shiitake that was making him see stars. "I think it’s time for you to meet my parents, Shiitake," he said as she sped down the freeway. "What are you doing next Friday night?"
