Chia Seeds

Ch-ch-ch-Chia! No, Martha Stewart, this did not become a gardening blog. Your familiarity wit hchia seeds may differ from mine, but don't feel ignant--I didn't always know they were edible either.

As a child, the commercials for Chia Pets kind of fascinated me. Much to my juvenile chagrin, my parents saw the uselessness of the shtick and denied my incessant requests to purchase one. So it came to pass that my original firsthand experience with chia seeds occurred during my prefrosh visit to Brown University. My host, Officer Char-Char, who was the older brother of my roommate-to-be, Lieutenant Twistopher, welcomed me to his suite with exceptional warmth. After throwing my bag on the floor, cracking me a tepid Natty Ice, and informing me that I wouldn't be going out with him that night and but rather sleeping on his damp couch, he then made sure the first grandiose view I experienced of what was to become my alma mater was a terra cotta phallus with a chia...ahem, hedge, that he and his roommates kept prominently displayed in their window. You simply can't hide good taste, folks. Both Char-Char and Twistopher are now enlisted overseas, probably hipshooting stacks of camel turds with M-16s and cackling hysterically.

It wasn't until I read a book on marathon running that I found out you could actually eat the stuff and eventually ordered some. Naturally, given my previous association with chia seeds, you can understand my initial hesitation. But chia seeds are actually an incredible source of protein, Omega-3 fatty acids, antioxidants, fiber, and a whole slew of other stuff that'll make you strong like bull. I'm no botanist, but I'm guessing their substantial nutritional content is why they grow like wildfire. They've been around since way before my man JC was kickin' it with his twelve man posse; in fact, the Aztecs ate them by the fistful.

Chia seeds can come in a myriad of colors, but mostly they're mottled grayish-black, and these little guys are only slightly larger than poppy seeds. Due mostly to their liquid solubility and health benefits, the seeds are used in recipes like fruit shakes and porridge, with an occasional stint as a salad topping and in some choice baked goods, not to mention their grassy, alfalfa-like sprouts. When soaked, they form a sort of gel that significantly softens the crunchy texture of the hull and goes down quite smoothly. I'm not breaking any molds with this simple agua fresca (that's Spanish for fresh agua, amigo) recipe that's been slurped down in South America for millennia, but I can't lie--it's good!

Agua Fresca

2 C water

2 T maple syrup*

1 lime, juiced (about 2 T)

1 T chia seeds

Stir to combine, wait 30 minutes to an hour. Serve over ice.

*Not the stuff you put on grandma's Aunt Jemima. I'm talking about the viscous syrup that 83-year-old men with monosyllabic good ol' boy names like Gus and Jed tap from trees in the Vermont backwoods between swigs of Kentucky gutrot and sessions of heavy wheezing.

This is what happens when two frogs meet on match.com.

Delicious aaaaand nutritious. I doubt Aztecs basked in Lake Texcoco with vessels of chia fresca to celebrate a good ol' sacrificial decapitation or two (million), but the drink definitely has a hot summer day kind of feel to it. Agua fresca is kind of like a limeade without the subatomic punt of sugar in your grill. In other words, it's got a lip-smacking, refreshing quality to it. Chia seeds used to be about as scarce in your area as rocking horse poopie, but like most things on the internet these days, they're just a step away.