An Aries Recipe for an Extremely Aries Time to Be Alive

On martial arts and larb.

A few Halloweens ago, I went to costume contest with an Aries sun and moon friend. Her costume, a naked troll doll, was objectively the best one there, the most committed and transformative – upright pink wig, nude suit, etc. But the prize went to somebody who wore a halfhearted costume that referenced some internet trend I can’t even remember.

My friend was very upset, and did not pretend otherwise. It was the opposite of what I, a Libra moon, would do – pretend it's all chill, no big deal, just a silly contest at a bar, while being secretly butt hurt for days. (Libra is the opposite sign of Aries.) I’d preface everything with: ‘I know it’s stupid, but…’. My friend, in contrast, expressed her anger honestly, didn't try to justify her feelings, and got over it in like 5 minutes.

Aries likes to win. Ruled by Mars, it is a notoriously competitive sign. Pop astrology distorts this trait a bit, making Aries people out to be aggressive, short-tempered bullies who throw tantrums when they fail. But in reality, Aries competitiveness is more nuanced – it’s a willingness to play, to try. Which, by default, is a willingness to fail. The Aries willingness to play doesn’t come from a lot of preparation, a well thought-out strategy, or the support of others – it comes from a basic belief in one’s own power. ‘I exist, therefore I can at least try to get what I want.’

Credit: Miramax Photos, Kill Bill 2

I think a willingness to try and fail is essential to surviving this very, very Aries moment in time, when we have the Sun, Mars, Saturn, Neptune, and Chiron in Aries, plus Mercury and the Moon about to zoom through all of them.

In a recent episode of Nightlight Astrology, Adam Elenbaas describes weight lifting, or any kind of strenuous exercise, as a way of familiarising oneself with failure. Because you lift weights, or work out, until you hit your physical limit and just can’t go further. There will always be a weight, or a point, that is just too difficult to overcome, even if you are the best weight lifter in the world. Being in cahoots with failure, he argues, is essential to any martial art. How many times did Beatrix Kiddo have to fail at punching that wall before she got strong enough to break out of that grave in Kill Bill 2, right? It’s like failure has to happen a billion times in order to create the conditions for victory.

Anyway, in the spirit of Aries directness – and the Aries love of keeping things brief – I will admit I have no clue how to smoothly segue from all this to this month’s recipe. So I will just do the damn thing without overthinking it.

Recipe: Larb Lettuce Wraps with Three Herbs

This dish is an Aries because A) it’s spicy, in this really fresh / sweet / refreshing way, and B) it’s lightning fast to make, especially if you pre-buy the toasted rice powder. You could skip the rice powder, but then it wouldn’t be very authentic, which is to say, it wouldn’t be very Aries. (To be clear, I do not claim my version is authentically Thai or Laotian – it is not. It’s just more authentically Thai or Laotian than a version without toasted rice powder.) Larb without toasted rice powder would be less ‘larb’ and more ‘pan-Asian lettuce wraps’. Decent enough for a quick dinner but nowhere near as good.

My recipe is a combination of different recipes I’ve made over the years, like this and this and this – the latter is my favourite, and she (Hot Thai Kitchen) has a veg/vegan version here.

Makes 2-3 servings

Ingredients

1-2 tablespoons jasmine rice
Lettuce leaves (however many you want)
1-2 shallots, or half an onion, sliced
2 limes, halved
1 handful of coriander leaves (with stem)
1 handful of mint leaves (no stem)
1 handful of Thai Basil leaves (no stem)
500g minced pork, chicken, or turkey (the fattier, the better)
Neutral oil, for frying
2 tbsp fish sauce, more to taste
1-2 Thai chillies
1 tbsp sugar, more to taste
Salt, to taste

Method

1. Toast the jasmine rice in a dry pan over medium heat until golden-brown. Be careful not to let it burn. Use a pestle or mortar, or a spice grinder, to crush it into a coarse powder. Do not put be tempted to put it in an electric grinder for a quicker process; it will break the machine. (Been there, done that.) Just exercise patience; it builds character. (Alternatively, buy toasted rice powder from any Asian grocer.)

2. Wash and dry the lettuce leaves well. Slice the shallot or onion, squeeze the juice of half a lime over it, and set it aside. Chop the herbs and put them in a separate bowl.

3. Heat oil in a frying pan, and once it’s hot, add the meat and a bit of salt. Break up the meat and cook until it is fully cooked; it should look browned all over.

4. Meanwhile, chop the Thai chillies and add it to the pan, along with the fish sauce, sugar, and ground rice powder. Mix, and take the pan off heat. Add the chopped herbs, the marinated shallot / onion slices, juice of one lime, and mix. I like to add a bit of lime zest too, just to feel fancy. Taste and adjust seasoning.

5. Serve the meat along with lettuce and wedges of lime. Eat it and pretend you’re in Thailand.

Announcements

• I might go quiet on Substack until July, because I am working on a novel and I really want to finish it in the next couple of months. I say ‘might’ because I enjoy writing these bizarre little newsletters. They are a way to procrastinate without feeling too bad about it. (Btw, if you are a procrastinator like me, you will love the book Out of Sheer Rage by Geoff Dyer.) If you’re DYING to read my work in the meantime, and haven’t read Ghost Chilli yet, it is available wherever books are sold and at local libraries.

• There are two tickets left for my next Tarot + Creative Writing Salon on 22 April at Nourished Communities, Islington. Get your tickets here.