March 5, 2010 § 7 Comments
This is a really great savory pie, a lovely hearty but not heavy supper or lunch. But, something else first. Everyone please take a look at my photos! Finally, I have produced something akin to a nice photograph of my food!!! How awesome is that?! As far as I can tell, food styling and photography is pretty trendy right now – borderline obnoxiously so. With the proliferation of a kajillion food blogs, it has become evident that there are also close to a kajillion rather good food photographers out there. I am most definitely not one of them. And it drives me crazy. Because, even though I generally have a very negative gut reaction to things that are trendy (kind of an ironic sucker punch because I think I’m actually a sucker for trends) , I am obsessed with food photography. But this is not new. I have been obsessed with food photography since as early as I can remember. Before I could even read, I have vivid memories of staring for long periods of time at pictures of food in my mom’s cookbooks. Then later I graduated to my children’s cookbooks, and ordered my own subscriptions to cooking magazines before I was even in high school. But, it never occurred to me to try to photograph my own food. I never even owned a camera, so I didn’t take pictures of anything at all!
February 3, 2010 § 2 Comments
It is February in Boston. It is incessantly grey. Moldy grey. Grey beyond grey. It is during short grey days like these that I am so very appreciative of simply having supper with people. Whether it’s just Joel and me, or dinner with friends, that little evening ritual of sitting in each other’s company and sharing a meal together really keeps me going. This weekend we were lucky enough to have dinner with friends both Saturday and Sunday (especially lucky because we’re painting the kitchen, which is going at about the rate of cold molasses, and it was pretty out of commission on Saturday). On Saturday we were treated to the most spectacular meal! Our friend Jamie must have spent the entire day in the kitchen. Maybe the day before too. While we sat like lumps – albeit talkative, appreciative, hungry lumps – he paraded out pizzas, artfully topped with creative combinations of fine cheeses, greens, and nuts; homemade sweet potato ravioli with brown butter, crème fraiche, and prosciutto; and dense, decadent chocolate pots de crème dribbled with freshly made caramel sauce, dollopped with caramel whipped cream, and dusted with just a hint of fleur de sel. I mean seriously! Wow! Thank goodness we at least we brought a nice bottle of wine. I decided right then and there a) I might just refuse to leave, or at least show up every evening for the rest of my life demanding to be fed, b) his wife is really lucky she has a fast metabolism, c) I really need (not want, need) to buy The French Laundry Cookbook, d) there’s really something to putting a lot of time and care into preparing food for friends. Although the meal was transcendently delicious because the combination of ingredients and preparation were so perfectly executed, I am absolutely convinced that it also tasted that good because it had been sprinkled with the fairy dust of care. « Read the rest of this entry »