Kids in short sleeved shirts
Pushing boundaries of spring
Shorts and new sneakers
No better way to welcome a new month and a new season than with a bit of haiku.
Friday, March 27, 2009
Friday, February 27, 2009
"To Sparkle on the Surface . . ."
Henry David Thoreau is one of my heroes. He's a fantastic writer, able naturalist, and all-around resourceful guy. I've read and re-read Walden, Civil Disobedience, Self Reliance, A Week on the Concord and Merrimack Rivers and the Maine Woods.
My thanks go to the fine individual has chosen to make Thoreau's journals into a blog. This daily window to the great man's thoughts across time and a nation never fail to give me pause for reflection.
Today, Thoreau's words herald spring and challenge us to be filled with joy and hope: "If rivers come out of their icy prison thus bright and immortal, shall not I too resume my spring life with joy and hope? Have I no hopes to sparkle on the surface of life’s current?"
Let's get back to sparkling, shall we?
My thanks go to the fine individual has chosen to make Thoreau's journals into a blog. This daily window to the great man's thoughts across time and a nation never fail to give me pause for reflection.
Today, Thoreau's words herald spring and challenge us to be filled with joy and hope: "If rivers come out of their icy prison thus bright and immortal, shall not I too resume my spring life with joy and hope? Have I no hopes to sparkle on the surface of life’s current?"
Let's get back to sparkling, shall we?
Monday, February 23, 2009
Five Rainbows
This morning in Northern California, rain clouds are playing hide-and-seek with the sun. One moment, the light is glorious, the next skies are overcast are a bit menacing.
For two kids on their way to school, the shifting skies promised only one thing: rainbows. Indeed, we spotted not one or two but three rainbows in the five minute drive this morning.
Having had both hands on the wheel and being driven by the tyranny of the clock, I did not have the gear or time for photographs. I'll regret that, I know.
The kids personalities showed through loud and clear in the rainbow spotting. G, my Zen-ish second grader, took each sighting as a singular moment of delight. L, my left-brain Kindergartener, was keeping accounts. "I've seen FIVE rainbows since my birthday [on February 17th]. This is going to be a lucky year for me. FIVE rainbows."
For two kids on their way to school, the shifting skies promised only one thing: rainbows. Indeed, we spotted not one or two but three rainbows in the five minute drive this morning.
Having had both hands on the wheel and being driven by the tyranny of the clock, I did not have the gear or time for photographs. I'll regret that, I know.
The kids personalities showed through loud and clear in the rainbow spotting. G, my Zen-ish second grader, took each sighting as a singular moment of delight. L, my left-brain Kindergartener, was keeping accounts. "I've seen FIVE rainbows since my birthday [on February 17th]. This is going to be a lucky year for me. FIVE rainbows."
Tuesday, February 17, 2009
January Reading: IV
I discovered Amanda Hesser, now New York Times Food Magazine editor, via her book Cooking for Mr. Latte. The story of her courtship through food captivated me; the saga of being a young New Yorker took me me on a journey of reminiscence to my post-college years in the Big Apple. I really do miss New York.
As a Hesser fan, I couldn't wait to get my hands on her latest effort: Eat, Memory: Great Writers at the Table. As the title suggests, this is a collection of food-related essays by an impressive list of contemporary authors. Hesser has collected these essays over a period of years at the New York Times and given them homes in chapters titled "Illusions," "Discovery," "Struggles," "Loss," and "Coming Home."
Without question, Hesser has an all-start group of authors assembled here. My favorites, based on author and topic, included Chang-Rae Lee on the food his mother cooked, Heidi Julavitz on Japan, poet Billy Collins on fish, Kirin Desai on bringing Western food to an Indian family, and Pico Iyer on Japanese convenience stores.
The book is a straightforward read with its bite-sized essays but has a bit of a dark shadow hanging over it. Many of the essays have a persistent note of sadness or even gloom to them. Perhaps I should have anticipated this from the section titles.
Overall, editor Hesser didn't deliver the experience that I enjoyed with author Hesser and it made the collection less satisfying to me. That said, there is still good reading here. I will also be checking the Eat, Memory column in the New York Times to look for gems and see if the tone of the essays changes over time.
As a Hesser fan, I couldn't wait to get my hands on her latest effort: Eat, Memory: Great Writers at the Table. As the title suggests, this is a collection of food-related essays by an impressive list of contemporary authors. Hesser has collected these essays over a period of years at the New York Times and given them homes in chapters titled "Illusions," "Discovery," "Struggles," "Loss," and "Coming Home."
Without question, Hesser has an all-start group of authors assembled here. My favorites, based on author and topic, included Chang-Rae Lee on the food his mother cooked, Heidi Julavitz on Japan, poet Billy Collins on fish, Kirin Desai on bringing Western food to an Indian family, and Pico Iyer on Japanese convenience stores.
The book is a straightforward read with its bite-sized essays but has a bit of a dark shadow hanging over it. Many of the essays have a persistent note of sadness or even gloom to them. Perhaps I should have anticipated this from the section titles.
Overall, editor Hesser didn't deliver the experience that I enjoyed with author Hesser and it made the collection less satisfying to me. That said, there is still good reading here. I will also be checking the Eat, Memory column in the New York Times to look for gems and see if the tone of the essays changes over time.
Monday, February 16, 2009
January Reading: III
The second photography book I tackled in January is Annie Griffiths Belt's A Camera, Two Kids and a Camel: My Journey in Photographs. Belt was one of the first women hired by National Geographic and, for me, her story had greater significance because of it.
She recounts her early days in photography, falling in love with light as a college student. She decides to photograph a tree bathed in morning light on a golf course. Veterans of the course whisper behind her prone form on the grass. When the sprinklers turn on and drench her, she realizes just what they were whispering about. Drenched but undaunted, she pushes forward with her photography.
Belt got her start at National Geographic when an editor called asking if she had photos of a Minnesota blizzard. She did and the rest seems to be history as she became a regular photographer for the legendary magazine. So much of "luck" is hard work; Belt was willing to venture into the cold, forbidding Minnesota weather to satisfy her own vision first and foremost.
Without question, Belt's photos are excellent. They range from natural landscapes to insider views of Ramadan celebrations, never before photographed. Belt's work is technically sound and photographs with a storyteller's instinct.
What made this book special to me is how Belt managed to be a great photographer and a great mom, hauling her family along on photo expeditions. She writes about needing to step away from her family for intensely full days of work. Still, traveling the world with her kids and husband brought them closer together and implanted the lifelong love of travel in her kids. On a personal level, I hope my husband and I can sow those same seeds of interest in experiencing the world in our kids.
Belt's book is a joy for the eye and for the heart. Her photos made a grey January much brighter for me and pushed me to think about how my own family could benefit from time together on the road.
She recounts her early days in photography, falling in love with light as a college student. She decides to photograph a tree bathed in morning light on a golf course. Veterans of the course whisper behind her prone form on the grass. When the sprinklers turn on and drench her, she realizes just what they were whispering about. Drenched but undaunted, she pushes forward with her photography.
Belt got her start at National Geographic when an editor called asking if she had photos of a Minnesota blizzard. She did and the rest seems to be history as she became a regular photographer for the legendary magazine. So much of "luck" is hard work; Belt was willing to venture into the cold, forbidding Minnesota weather to satisfy her own vision first and foremost.
Without question, Belt's photos are excellent. They range from natural landscapes to insider views of Ramadan celebrations, never before photographed. Belt's work is technically sound and photographs with a storyteller's instinct.
What made this book special to me is how Belt managed to be a great photographer and a great mom, hauling her family along on photo expeditions. She writes about needing to step away from her family for intensely full days of work. Still, traveling the world with her kids and husband brought them closer together and implanted the lifelong love of travel in her kids. On a personal level, I hope my husband and I can sow those same seeds of interest in experiencing the world in our kids.
Belt's book is a joy for the eye and for the heart. Her photos made a grey January much brighter for me and pushed me to think about how my own family could benefit from time together on the road.
Friday, February 13, 2009
January Reading: II
Amarcord: Marcella Remembers is the autobiography of Italian cooking diva Marcella Hazan. I'm a big fan of her cookbooks and it was fascinating to learn how the woman who studied to be a scientist ended up introducing America to the wonders of Italian food. Her memoir addresses the full chronology of her life: early childhood in Egypt, struggling through World War II and growing into adulthood in Cesenatico in Italy, falling in love and marrying Victor Hazan, and ping-ponging between America and Italy as her culinary life developed. Her descriptions of living in Venice are lovely.
Once Hazan begins to write about her success in teaching and writing, the reader definitely gets the sense that she is a tough woman. She admits to having the reputation of being difficult with her students. Hazan provides an unvarnished account of her conflicts and falling-out with her editor and spares no ones' feelings in the process.
Without question, Hazan has consistently displayed great creativity, resourcefulness and bravura, long accompanied and supported by Victor. However, in the final analysis, she just doesn't seem happy. That lack is not explicit in her writing but the final chapters of the book left me wishing she could find more joy in reflecting on a life well lived.
Once Hazan begins to write about her success in teaching and writing, the reader definitely gets the sense that she is a tough woman. She admits to having the reputation of being difficult with her students. Hazan provides an unvarnished account of her conflicts and falling-out with her editor and spares no ones' feelings in the process.
Without question, Hazan has consistently displayed great creativity, resourcefulness and bravura, long accompanied and supported by Victor. However, in the final analysis, she just doesn't seem happy. That lack is not explicit in her writing but the final chapters of the book left me wishing she could find more joy in reflecting on a life well lived.
Thursday, February 12, 2009
January Reading: I
Tracking the books I read is, thus far, an enjoyable and not-too-onerous exercise. Looking back at January, the key themes for the month were clearly photography and food. To help me remember a year's worth of words, I'm going to post brief commentary on the books as regularly as possible. The right-hand column reflects a running list of what I've read.
I started the year reading Annie Liebovitz's At Work. Liebovitz's book essentially provides the words behind her photographs: how she developed the ideas for the photos and made the pictures, strung together like beads on the necklace of time. When I picked up the book, I expected to read more of her personal journey; what I found, but was not disappointed by, was a much stronger focus on the work. Her tone is fairly cool and dispassionate but provides great texture to her amazing photographs.
Liebovitz begins with the story of climbing Mount Fuji with her first camera, reaching the summit at dawn and realizing she only has a couple of shots left on her roll of film. Her planning gets better from there. Her experiences with the Rolling Stones, of Nixon leaving the White House, photographing Queeen Elizabeth, and making the last picture of John Lennon and Yoko Ono together provide the jaw-dropping, star-power facets of the book. Equally interesting are the stories of her photographing her parents, Susan Sontag, her children and what those pictures mean to her. Liebovitz's book is a well-crafted view into how a photographer developed her vision and the passion that continues to motivate her.
I started the year reading Annie Liebovitz's At Work. Liebovitz's book essentially provides the words behind her photographs: how she developed the ideas for the photos and made the pictures, strung together like beads on the necklace of time. When I picked up the book, I expected to read more of her personal journey; what I found, but was not disappointed by, was a much stronger focus on the work. Her tone is fairly cool and dispassionate but provides great texture to her amazing photographs.
Liebovitz begins with the story of climbing Mount Fuji with her first camera, reaching the summit at dawn and realizing she only has a couple of shots left on her roll of film. Her planning gets better from there. Her experiences with the Rolling Stones, of Nixon leaving the White House, photographing Queeen Elizabeth, and making the last picture of John Lennon and Yoko Ono together provide the jaw-dropping, star-power facets of the book. Equally interesting are the stories of her photographing her parents, Susan Sontag, her children and what those pictures mean to her. Liebovitz's book is a well-crafted view into how a photographer developed her vision and the passion that continues to motivate her.
Thursday, January 22, 2009
The Inauguration of our 44th President
I've been trying to figure out just what to write about the inauguration of Barack Obama as our 44th President. Candidly, I'm (still) caught up in the emotion and momentum of that historic occasion. In the spirit of "better late than never," I want to share the following thoughts.
The news media and, perhaps more importantly, experts in language have parsed Obama's speech closely. On a personal note, I was struck how he gave historical context to the day, his own place at the podium, and the formidable tasks that lay ahead of this country. A CNN commentator called Obama "Educator in Chief." I hope we see more context-giving with his initiatives and echoes from the powerful voice of history. Obama's words are sending me scurrying to shelves, seeking to learn more about and experience directly the words of Washington, Lincoln, and Roosevelt. As I track what I read in 2009, I'm expecting America's leaders, and some from other shores as well, will figure prominently.
For me, language was a significant part of this Inauguration. Obama's speech seemed infused with poetry. The prayers soared to poetic heights. Rev. Joseph Lowery brought smiles and nods with his rhythm-infused benediction. I was particularly struck by Rev. Gene Robinson, perhaps the most inclusive of the celebrants, who spoke of "God of my understanding," enabled all to find a voice and asked for us to be blessed with challenges. There is beauty and significance in having a poet share her words at the Inauguration. Elizabeth Alexander's Praise Song for the Day was simply inspired.
I was also struck how music informed the celebration. Aretha Franklin, the Queen of Soul, simply rocked it. She looked regal, sounded great, and gave a brilliant performance. The quartet, with their variation on "Simple Gifts," reflected the many faces of America--a cellist of Chinese heritage, a Jewish violinist, an African Amerian clarinet player, and a female pianist--and the harmony to which we aspire.
On a more quotidian issue, I was intrigued by the menu for the Inaugural luncheon--and the attention it received. My next roast duck may just need the sour cherry chutney that the Washington power set enjoyed. Hey, the recipes are there for the making--why not?
In retrospect, I can only say that it was a glorious day for America. Heaven knows we've needed such a day for quite some time. I have confidence that this great nation will now get about the hard work ahead and make the kind of progress that has sustained us through the last two centuries.
The news media and, perhaps more importantly, experts in language have parsed Obama's speech closely. On a personal note, I was struck how he gave historical context to the day, his own place at the podium, and the formidable tasks that lay ahead of this country. A CNN commentator called Obama "Educator in Chief." I hope we see more context-giving with his initiatives and echoes from the powerful voice of history. Obama's words are sending me scurrying to shelves, seeking to learn more about and experience directly the words of Washington, Lincoln, and Roosevelt. As I track what I read in 2009, I'm expecting America's leaders, and some from other shores as well, will figure prominently.
For me, language was a significant part of this Inauguration. Obama's speech seemed infused with poetry. The prayers soared to poetic heights. Rev. Joseph Lowery brought smiles and nods with his rhythm-infused benediction. I was particularly struck by Rev. Gene Robinson, perhaps the most inclusive of the celebrants, who spoke of "God of my understanding," enabled all to find a voice and asked for us to be blessed with challenges. There is beauty and significance in having a poet share her words at the Inauguration. Elizabeth Alexander's Praise Song for the Day was simply inspired.
I was also struck how music informed the celebration. Aretha Franklin, the Queen of Soul, simply rocked it. She looked regal, sounded great, and gave a brilliant performance. The quartet, with their variation on "Simple Gifts," reflected the many faces of America--a cellist of Chinese heritage, a Jewish violinist, an African Amerian clarinet player, and a female pianist--and the harmony to which we aspire.
On a more quotidian issue, I was intrigued by the menu for the Inaugural luncheon--and the attention it received. My next roast duck may just need the sour cherry chutney that the Washington power set enjoyed. Hey, the recipes are there for the making--why not?
In retrospect, I can only say that it was a glorious day for America. Heaven knows we've needed such a day for quite some time. I have confidence that this great nation will now get about the hard work ahead and make the kind of progress that has sustained us through the last two centuries.
Thursday, January 15, 2009
Projects in 2009 . . . A First Step
I've always been curious (consumed?) with the idea of "projects." There's something romantic, purposeful, and simply appealing about working on something beyond yourself. The web--and blogs--abound with creative types who seem to spawn projects. I've decided it's time to join the game.
For my first project, I'm going to track what I'm reading in 2009. I'm a pretty heavy reader and would like to see just what and how much I manage to digest in a year. I'll also try to offer a brief review wherever possible to perhaps motivate you to pick up a new book, or not, as the case may be. My only struggle here is whether to include books I'm reading aloud to the kids. If I go that path--and it really is reading, after all--I'll make sure to note the content appropriately.
I'm fishing around for a photographic project. The classic approaches seem to be a photo-a-day or week. There's also the 12 x 12 approach (12 photos in 12 months). We're in the process of creating photo books of the kids (first seven years, first five years) right now and it's delightful. If these turn out well, we'll make books of our travels, ancestors, and anything else that fits. The bottom line is that I need to pick up the camera more to keep that flow of images and ideas fresh.
There's also the crafty stuff. I love reading about what folks are creating and find myself wanting to do the same. As usual, I find myself overthinking things: is this a commitment? should I do this with/without the kids? what if I'm a really bad crafter? Ah . . . so I'll try some stuff and we'll see what develops.
Last but not least is food. Cooking (and eating) is one of my passions. I want to say more here about what I'm making, where I'm finding it, and if anyone is eating and enjoying it.
So here goes . . . finally a leap into the New Year and some great new activities.
For my first project, I'm going to track what I'm reading in 2009. I'm a pretty heavy reader and would like to see just what and how much I manage to digest in a year. I'll also try to offer a brief review wherever possible to perhaps motivate you to pick up a new book, or not, as the case may be. My only struggle here is whether to include books I'm reading aloud to the kids. If I go that path--and it really is reading, after all--I'll make sure to note the content appropriately.
I'm fishing around for a photographic project. The classic approaches seem to be a photo-a-day or week. There's also the 12 x 12 approach (12 photos in 12 months). We're in the process of creating photo books of the kids (first seven years, first five years) right now and it's delightful. If these turn out well, we'll make books of our travels, ancestors, and anything else that fits. The bottom line is that I need to pick up the camera more to keep that flow of images and ideas fresh.
There's also the crafty stuff. I love reading about what folks are creating and find myself wanting to do the same. As usual, I find myself overthinking things: is this a commitment? should I do this with/without the kids? what if I'm a really bad crafter? Ah . . . so I'll try some stuff and we'll see what develops.
Last but not least is food. Cooking (and eating) is one of my passions. I want to say more here about what I'm making, where I'm finding it, and if anyone is eating and enjoying it.
So here goes . . . finally a leap into the New Year and some great new activities.
Thursday, January 01, 2009
A Sweet New Year
Happy 2009! Change has been a long time coming and it has been a pleasure to welcome this new year.
I'm a big believer in making the first taste of the new year a sweet one. Following a Japanese tradition, that means sake spiced with otoso. According to Wikipedia, otoso has its origins in China:
"The tososan mixture is said to have originated as a prescription of the famous Chinese physician Hua Tuo during the Three Kingdoms period. . . . It is typically made from Japanese pepper, asiasari radix, apiaceae, cinnamon, dried ginger, atractylodes Japonica, Chinese bellflower and rhubarb."
I find otoso in Japanese markets and only at the New Year. The bag of spices comes beautifully wrapped in washi. You need merely to drop the bag into a quantity of sake and let it steep as you would a tea-bag. The result is a golden liquid, fragrant and somewhat sweet. A sip (or a few) are all that's needed to make the beginning of a new year a bit of ritual.
I'm a big believer in making the first taste of the new year a sweet one. Following a Japanese tradition, that means sake spiced with otoso. According to Wikipedia, otoso has its origins in China:
"The tososan mixture is said to have originated as a prescription of the famous Chinese physician Hua Tuo during the Three Kingdoms period. . . . It is typically made from Japanese pepper, asiasari radix, apiaceae, cinnamon, dried ginger, atractylodes Japonica, Chinese bellflower and rhubarb."
I find otoso in Japanese markets and only at the New Year. The bag of spices comes beautifully wrapped in washi. You need merely to drop the bag into a quantity of sake and let it steep as you would a tea-bag. The result is a golden liquid, fragrant and somewhat sweet. A sip (or a few) are all that's needed to make the beginning of a new year a bit of ritual.
Saturday, December 27, 2008
Here and Happy
NaBloPoMo clearly must have consumed every word in me because December, thus far, has been a month of radio silence. This did not happen by intention but rather a lack thereof.
Right now, I'm cocooned in that magical space between holidays (well, almost, as Hanukkah continues), enjoying family time and filling my head with words, thoughts and plans for the New Year.
Much more to come as 2008 draws to a deliciously slow close.
Right now, I'm cocooned in that magical space between holidays (well, almost, as Hanukkah continues), enjoying family time and filling my head with words, thoughts and plans for the New Year.
Much more to come as 2008 draws to a deliciously slow close.
Sunday, November 30, 2008
NaBloPoMo: Did It!
I am delighted to complete NaBloPoMo (National Blog Posting Month). Yes, as November draws to a close I can proudly say that I have posted every single day to this blog. Whoo-hooo! Seriously, this marks the most committed writing practice I've ever done.
I posted a few days ago that I wanted to be a maker. I did indeed deliver on that goal as well. My daughter is carrying around a stuffed felt mouse that we sewed together (photo forthcoming). It's not exactly what I had in mind when I declared my desire to create but at least I did it . . . and she loves it. Chocolate chip cookies also grace the kitchen courtesy of me; perhaps this is also the mark of the maker.
Tomorrow December begins. Here's to a wonderful month. And, looking back, here's to a pretty terrific November.
I posted a few days ago that I wanted to be a maker. I did indeed deliver on that goal as well. My daughter is carrying around a stuffed felt mouse that we sewed together (photo forthcoming). It's not exactly what I had in mind when I declared my desire to create but at least I did it . . . and she loves it. Chocolate chip cookies also grace the kitchen courtesy of me; perhaps this is also the mark of the maker.
Tomorrow December begins. Here's to a wonderful month. And, looking back, here's to a pretty terrific November.
Saturday, November 29, 2008
I Love This Idea: Food + Community
San Franciscan Marco Flavio is an avowed foodie and man of action. His blog, Cook Here and Now, is replete with weekly farmer's market reports, recipe suggestions, and general enthusiasm about great food.
He's also been running a very successful series of open dinners. The idea is simple and the execution brilliant. He posts a monthly theme, interested people visit his blog and sign up to prepare various courses, and everyone cooks and eats together. Travel and Leisure, Food and Wine, and Lonely Planet have all written about Marco and his magnificent meals.
I've seen the posts for dinners and thought "I'd like to do that." I would then have a crisis of confidence, either in my cooking, creativity, or bravado to join cool people in San Francisco. Today, Marco posted photos from his most recent dinner. What an amazingly diverse group of people thisese events attract. The guy cooking the andouille sausage got it from Dittmer's in Mountain View. I know that place. I can do this. Attending one of Marco's dinner's is on my list for 2009.
If you're interested, he's written a post on how to host your own communal dinners. Let me know if you try!
He's also been running a very successful series of open dinners. The idea is simple and the execution brilliant. He posts a monthly theme, interested people visit his blog and sign up to prepare various courses, and everyone cooks and eats together. Travel and Leisure, Food and Wine, and Lonely Planet have all written about Marco and his magnificent meals.
I've seen the posts for dinners and thought "I'd like to do that." I would then have a crisis of confidence, either in my cooking, creativity, or bravado to join cool people in San Francisco. Today, Marco posted photos from his most recent dinner. What an amazingly diverse group of people thisese events attract. The guy cooking the andouille sausage got it from Dittmer's in Mountain View. I know that place. I can do this. Attending one of Marco's dinner's is on my list for 2009.
If you're interested, he's written a post on how to host your own communal dinners. Let me know if you try!
Friday, November 28, 2008
A Random Friday
Today has been one of those random kinds of days. My husband is painting various rooms in the house. I played many, many games with the kids. My son went off with a friends' family to see his basketball coach play in a local high school game. My daughter and I are making a stuffed mousie for her, complete with signature pink scarf. We kept the cooking light, the snuggling long. And yes, I even made it to the gym. It turned out to be a good day overall.
Thursday, November 27, 2008
Thankful
I am truly thankful--today and, frankly, pretty much every day. A smile or hug from my kids, a nuzzle from the dogs, or a shoulder rub from my husband are daily reminders of my blessings. I could go on about my gratitude for many people and many things in my life but I'll keep it short and simple: I am thankful.
Happy Thanksgiving.
Happy Thanksgiving.
Wednesday, November 26, 2008
Preparations are Underway
Thanksgiving preparation is in full swing. We're dining with cousins and we'll be bringing the turkey, oyster stuffing, and a fennel apple salad.
We're roasting the turkey on the rotisserie this year. Our Gaggenau oven delights us with perfect birds . . . crispy outside, juicy inside. We'll see if it's up for a larger fowl tomorrow. There is no turkey "formula" for us. We've roasted, fried, tucked butter and herbs under skin, and filled cavities. Thus far, we haven't found a cooking or seasoning technique that dominates all others.
The oyster stuffing is a proven favorite. My grandmother's recipe provides a well proportioned foundation and I've contributed the foodie embellishments--double the amount of oysters, fresh herbs, and artisanal bread. I hesitate (actually I do not) try variations on this theme. Departures from my mainstay recipe become stand-alone dishes.
The fennel apple salad is an attempt to provide a light, fresh taste in what is typically a heavy meal. The recipe is Charlie Trotter's, is posted on Epicurious and extremely simple. With my trusty mandoline and a lemon from the backyard, this should be fast, easy and delicious.
Looking forward to a fun and delicious day tomorrow!
We're roasting the turkey on the rotisserie this year. Our Gaggenau oven delights us with perfect birds . . . crispy outside, juicy inside. We'll see if it's up for a larger fowl tomorrow. There is no turkey "formula" for us. We've roasted, fried, tucked butter and herbs under skin, and filled cavities. Thus far, we haven't found a cooking or seasoning technique that dominates all others.
The oyster stuffing is a proven favorite. My grandmother's recipe provides a well proportioned foundation and I've contributed the foodie embellishments--double the amount of oysters, fresh herbs, and artisanal bread. I hesitate (actually I do not) try variations on this theme. Departures from my mainstay recipe become stand-alone dishes.
The fennel apple salad is an attempt to provide a light, fresh taste in what is typically a heavy meal. The recipe is Charlie Trotter's, is posted on Epicurious and extremely simple. With my trusty mandoline and a lemon from the backyard, this should be fast, easy and delicious.
Looking forward to a fun and delicious day tomorrow!
Tuesday, November 25, 2008
I Want to Be a Maker
I have the urge to create. The only problem is I'm not sure just what to create. I love Craft and I have books like Making Stuff. Still, I don't quite know what to make.
I admit being jealous of my husband who has projects just pop into his head. The other week, he removed keys from an old, unusable typewriter, drilled holes in the bases of the letters, looped wire through and came up with great wine glass charms. He just did it. Wow.
With the long weekend stretching ahead, I'm determined to make something. I have a feeling it will be surprise to all of us.
I admit being jealous of my husband who has projects just pop into his head. The other week, he removed keys from an old, unusable typewriter, drilled holes in the bases of the letters, looped wire through and came up with great wine glass charms. He just did it. Wow.
With the long weekend stretching ahead, I'm determined to make something. I have a feeling it will be surprise to all of us.
Monday, November 24, 2008
Gearing Up for a Week
Thanksgiving week begins. The kids are home from school. All week. We've already had highs . . . the kids reading together, snuggled into a single chair. . . and lows . . . tears and near blows over a game of Sorry!. My son was rescued by a play date this afternoon.
As an antidote (or maybe prophylactic) to the week ahead, we trooped to the library this afternoon. Audio books, DVDs, and yes, good old fashioned printed books all accompanied us home. Here's hoping for a week of engagement and entertainment for the kiddos.
How did we survive before this multimedia world?
As an antidote (or maybe prophylactic) to the week ahead, we trooped to the library this afternoon. Audio books, DVDs, and yes, good old fashioned printed books all accompanied us home. Here's hoping for a week of engagement and entertainment for the kiddos.
How did we survive before this multimedia world?
Sunday, November 23, 2008
In Your Own Backyard
Shutter Sisters has a terrific post today about finding beauty right where you live. As much as I love the message in the post, the comments are amazing. Women have shared photos from their daily lives and immediate surroundings; I am staggered by how beautiful this work is. Who knew a turkey sandwich could be a kaleidoscope of color and texture.
Saturday, November 22, 2008
Another Day Without Words
So this picture will have to suffice. It's amazing what you can see when you walk slowly and look closely.
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