At the McCarren Park Greenmarket a few years ago, I overheard a woman getting an earful over the phone for suggesting a purchase of non-organic apple cider for a child’s party. She tried to speak up for the local orchard selling cider right there in the market, but this was in the middle of the great apple juice arsenic scare of 2011 and so she lost that battle.
Which is too bad, because the orchard in question was a low-spray orchard that takes a thoughtful approach to integrated pest management. Whatever organic juice the woman bought instead was likely trucked from the other side of the country or even farther away, which has an environmental impact just like pesticides do. And though it may have been organic, it still may not have been as responsibly grown as the cider she was forced to pass up. read more »
On cool nights in Brooklyn, I loved laying in bed with the windows open. I would drift to sleep and sometimes be startled out of it by the conversational mumbles of the late dinner crowd coming out of the restaurants and planning their next moves, the nightly din-to-shrill crescendo of the bar out back, and the wall of taxis laying on their horns as they came down Havemeyer on weekend nights at twelve thirty, and again at two. When the loudest sounds ebbed, I’d hear bits of conversation, laughing, music floating by, and would sit in bed and love that I could hear all this life happening from right there in my bedroom. And if the moon was also shining in the window, as it did this time of year, well, what else could you want?
The Virginia nights offer a different symphony. read more »
My productivity experienced a precipitous decline coincident with both the end of the school year and the advent of days topping the ninety degree mark. Correlation isn’t causation, but I think it’s safe to jump to a few conclusions here.
A bright spot, though, has been the family dinner, which needs much less in the way of labor during the summer. read more »
Summer’s grace has descended here in Virginia. The seventeen-year cicadas are gone, but regular old ones hiss from the lush green trees, fireflies dot the evenings, and the first fruits and vegetables are ripening in our tiny garden. We’ve had a stretch of rainy days, and that’s felt right––a sort of nature-imposed time of reflection just ahead of the season of sweltering abundance.
And the tomatoes have arrived. read more »
This weekend I had a lesson about the things food cannot do. Sometimes, no matter how many pancakes, or sweet apples, or pieces of homemade fried chicken and coconut pie there are, things are going to go off the rails. Tired and cranky can trump even the crispiest breading, even the flakiest dough. Sometimes, kids are gonna be kids and there’s nothing you can do about it. read more »
The internet is full of big, amazing people. People whose cakes are frosted perfectly, people whose children don’t spill yogurt down the front of their shirt at lunch, people who stroll around the city and don’t even care that their suede shoes are getting ruined in the puddles because it’s not a big deal to buy another pair. We are not those people. There’s something in the air lately–real life, real blogging, real talk, real food. I like that. Especially because I don’t stand a chance of ever being one of those big, amazing types. Our life is messy, hopelessly real, and very far from perfect. read more »