January 2, 2013 § 35 Comments
Happy, happy New Year to you all! Did you ring in the New Year in style?
I know we did. Much more stylishly than we really are, in fact. But if the holidays aren’t a time to up your style game, when is, right?
Perhaps it’s the crash after the high of holiday activity, perhaps it’s that the New Year always makes me nearly as nostalgic as October does, but I’m now left feeling quietly morose. “Another year,” a voice somewhere inside of me sighs, “another year, and I still don’t understand.”
So I’m sitting in our living room now, which feels dark as the Christmas twinkle lights have all been put back into boxes, wondering to myself, ‘understand what? What do I so yearn to understand?’
The answer, I’m sorry to say, is anything and everything, as far as I can tell. The answer is Life.
Day by day life happens, intermittently glorious and terrible, and I don’t understand any of it. At all. Not a bit.
I’m suddenly remembering a quote my mother told to me earlier this year (I’m not entirely sure of its origin), “this thing of which we speak cannot be found by seeking. But only seekers will find it.”
I don’t entirely understand the quote either, but it speaks to me about life and meaning on a level separate from understanding. I feel somehow like that’s it. Like maybe trying to understand won’t get you anywhere. Life just is, it isn’t an entity to be dissected and understood. You have to get out of your own way, but at the same time seek and make that daily effort to get out of your own way. « Read the rest of this entry »
June 1, 2012 § 17 Comments
If you page through my spiral bound notebook stuffed with recipes, you will almost certainly notice that it is spattered and worn and nearly fallen apart. If your eye is particularly of the sort that seeks out patterns, however, you may also notice that somewhere in the realm of 75 percent of the recipes in it are attached to someone’s name.
Beth’s chicken, Peter’s pancakes, Daim cake from Caroline, Liz’s shirley bars, Judy’s scones, Peach’s cardamom bread. And I’m fairly positive that, all around the world, many cooks have similarly labeled recipes, this one from grandma, that one from an old friend, and this one from that lady who used to live down the street. Remember her? She always made the best…
Even some of my cookbooks by acclaimed chefs contain recipes attributed by name to someone else – Lindsay’s sugar cookies or Rob’s famous coleslaw in Sunday Suppers at Lucques, Sally Schmitt’s cranberry and apple kuchen or Eric’s staff lasagne in the French Laundry.
December 3, 2011 § 7 Comments
Everything I’ve been cooking lately seems to be orange. Have you noticed? If you haven’t noticed, forget that I said anything at all. Orange food? What? I cook the rainbow!
If you have noticed, know that I thought I was going to be breaking out when I dreamed up this beet recipe. I envisioned deep claret purple. But then I rooted in my vegetable crisper drawer and was reminded that I had selected golden (read: orange) beets. Hmph. Well, we’re getting our vitamin A in these parts.
Whatever the color, these beet nubbins turned out to be a spectacular treat. Like candy.
November 13, 2011 § 18 Comments
It’s been a thoroughly draining week, intellectually. Emotionally too, actually. And, the idea of trying to say something remotely intelligible or amusing seems more than a little out of my league, at present.
On the way to trying to become a doctor of philosophy, there are many hurdles you have to clear and people you have to convince. (Including yourself. There’s a lot of convincing of yourself that you can, in fact, do this, in spite of the daunting monolithic-ness of the task at any given moment.) Last week I had another one to fling myself over in defending my dissertation proposal.
I did it. Hurrah! Which puts me, finally, in that category, which I’ve always been somewhat confused by, known as ABD. All but dissertation. I always used to hear that and think, what? All but dissertation? But, isn’t the dissertation kind of the whole thing? Answer, no. Not even remotely.
August 22, 2011 § 4 Comments
It’s been another crazy week, this last week. More travel, more weddings (an exceptionally gorgeous and happy one of some close friends), and a running of errands for my own that could give the running of the bulls a run for its money in the category of harrowing, stampede-like qualities.
It’s all been beyond fun, but also beyond exhausting. So, I’m going to take a little moment to share this refreshing little gem of a salad with you. It makes me think of a spa food, which makes me think, “ahhhhhhh, I’m so relaxed.” (In spite of a certain preponderance of the evidence indicating the opposite.)
Granted, I’ve never been to a spa, so I can’t really speak to the nature of the food served at one. But, here’s what I imagine spa food to be like: light and refreshing, nourishing and satisfying, full of pure, sensual flavors. Food that lets you feel like you’re pampering yourself, while also being good for you.
May 13, 2011 § 5 Comments
There is a little restaurant a quick stroll down the street from us that serves a ridiculous brunch on the weekends. You might be tipped off to the fact that they have some tricks up their sleeves when, come Saturday at 10am, you see the line of chipper people trailing out their door and down the sidewalk, drinking coffee and chatting as they wait for a table. Your suspicions would be further aroused by the amazing technicolor underwater scene painted across their bathroom walls. It’s ebullient, playful, borderline garish, but oh so enticing, just like their food.
They make waffles so large and airy you could raft them down a river (of maple syrup, at least), their pancakes piled with enough fruit to fill a decorative bowl on a coffee table, and they have been known to make a popover the size of your head and fill it to overflowing with creamy eggs, sausage, vegetables, and hollandaise. That last one is something I’ve been thinking about recreating at home, but I haven’t gotten to it yet. I think you might need to get a special permit to make popovers that big.
Their suppers, I’m afraid, don’t quite live up to their brunch standard. We’ve tried twice, giving it the benefit of the doubt, but both times the food was fine, but relatively uninspired. It had a couple things going for it anyway, though. One was the extreme and helpful frankness of the servers. All of our questions were answered fully and honestly, and then some. The crab cakes were fine, we were told, but they were more cake than crab. The burger was more worth getting, we were counseled. And the enchiladas, it was explained, would be good if what we were looking for was the extremely-gooey-cheesey type of Tex-Mex (Joel was, in fact).
The other thing the place had going for it was the vegetables. I get irked when I go to restaurants and all the more vegetables they provide you with are 3 elegantly plated green beans or a thimble-sized nest of micro-greens. This place was much more my style. That style being the, “why yes, my meal will consist of 2 servings each of 4 different vegetables perhaps drizzled with a delectable sauce, thank you,” style. Each dish came with a riot of seasonal veggies, a mountain of veggies, a jumble of veggies…
November 19, 2010 § 9 Comments
One of the things I love the most about commuting by bike or by foot, is the opportunity it gives you for just noticing. There are all sorts of little details, snippets and suggestions of interesting things afoot, all around that you simply miss if you aren’t out in the open air and moving at a decently leisurely pace.
The older man in the bowler hat, who wears it with such stately confidence you just know he was part of the British Gentry in another life. Another man who has – brilliantly – attached an air horn to his bicycle. The intrepid birds that are planning to stick it out for the winter, and a cardinal who seems to have forgotten he was supposed to go south, but who is glowing such a brilliant crimson he might be able to stay warm through the sheer strength of his color. Dry, crunchy leaves that swirl across your path and when you peer more closely at them, you can see that someone has stamped them with, “to report a fallen leaf:…” plus a web address. And a knobbly old tree whose trunk looks just exactly like an elephant leg and whose bare branches are extremely reminiscent of a nerve cell, but when you put them together the whole thing looks remarkably like, well, a wise old tree.
Little things like these can make my day. And noticing them gives each moment a sense of importance and spaciousness, which is something I’m really trying to focus on, especially as we near Thanksgiving, and the whole holiday season which is a time of year that is both hectic and wonderfully packed with precious moments and people.
July 31, 2010 § 10 Comments
We’ve just gotten back from Norway, and already I miss it. Our visit went far too fast. The sunlight hours stretch past 11pm at this time of the year, and we made use of all of them, filling them with family and friends, swimming, hiking, fishing, berry picking, determined tanning, and all my favorite treats and snacks. Admittedly, the weather wasn’t perfect (the front page news story every day concerned itself with whether we could expect sun for the weekend and where to go to find the best weather). And there was an invasion of burning jellyfishes that turned ocean bathing into an extreme adventure sport. But, still, it was perfect. If it weren’t so hard to find iced coffee there (people tend to drink their coffee hot and black, even when hanging out on the beach), I think my campaign to convince Joel we should move to Norway would already be successfully completed. As it is, it might take one more visit 🙂 .
I have all sorts of plans to show you the wonderful landscape around our cabin, the abundance of food you can forage and eat in the summer, and some of the wonderfully goofy Norwegian people. But, being who I am, I mostly forgot to take pictures, and I have to wait for my dad to send them to me. So, instead I’ll start with this lovely cinnamon snack cake that my aunt made for everyone.
February 26, 2010 § 1 Comment
Here’s another one, like that cabbage, that I have been meaning to write about for a while and somehow have kept not getting around to, even though it’s really good. I don’t know what the deal is with that. I think it just takes a bit of turning things over in my mind before I can think of anything to say about them, since I do keep trying to be remotely interesting. I’m kind of like Mr. Collins who delights in spending some of his spare time in devising little compliments to pay the ladies, but tries to give them as unstudied of an air as possible (obscure Pride and Prejudice reference – I’m afraid I’ve read that book more times than I can count; I’m a hopeless romantic/geek). That is to say, I often think for a while about a food or a subject to try to come up with at least one amusing (well, at least to me) thing to say about it, and then I’ll suddenly sit down and write in a stream of consciousness.
So now, after ample amounts of time to muse on the topic of pasta with butternut squash, what earth shattering insights do I have to offer? Er, um, well, none, really. Except that it’s just really, really delicious. According to Joel, it’s one of the best things he’s ever eaten (unfortunately for my ego, this was in reference to a version that a friend of ours made, oh well). It’s a great fall-ish dish for when butternut squash has just come into season, but it’s also cozy and warming in winter when you suddenly discover that you still have a box of butternut squash stored very cleverly under piles of aprons, grocery bags, tupperwares, and other miscellany in your pantry (I take a cue from squirrels, hiding things so “cleverly” I forget about them and can’t find them if I’m looking for them). Sweet, mild butternut squash is so good with a little sharp cheese and olive oil tossed with pasta and salty, rich Italian sausage (sweet or spicy). I’m sure it would be good with bacon or pancetta bits instead of sausage. And, if you don’t eat meat, it’s just as good without it too.