April 3, 2012 § 20 Comments
Were I a poet, I would write odes in celebration of cardamom.
Actually, now that I give my bold statement a little thought, were I a poet, I would probably have much more profound and brooding things to write about. For example, what a sparrow isn’t.
(This is an actual discussion that Joel and I once had, after hearing a pair of essays by a husband and wife one of whom is a poet and the other a novelist. What a sparrow isn’t comes up as a poetic theme. Later on a walk, I asked Joel what he thought of when he imagined what a sparrow isn’t, and he launched into a long musing exploration of the fluttering energy each little life on this earth has and the vacuum that could be left were it not there and how this might change the overall universe. Then he asked what came to my mind when I thought of what a sparrow isn’t. “An elephant and a beach ball,” I replied. Joel writes poetry. I don’t.)
November 29, 2011 § 18 Comments
Or maybe these are latkes. I’m not terribly well versed in the spectrum of grated potato pancakes. And so I’m going to say these are a take on rösti because that simply seems more fun to me right now.
Either way, I figured that the potato should not have the corner on the market on this style of cooking a root vegetable, and on my continued quest to make carrots in diverse and exciting new ways I shredded them and fried them into little rounds.
(And I didn’t want to call them fritters because then you’ll all think that I’m obsessed with fritters (given that I’ve made several different kinds already. At least, in my mind I have. I’m not sure about it in reality, come to think of it), and we all know I have more than enough obsessions to go around already.)