Last night at around 5:30pm here on the east coast, something magical happened. All at once, at the dinner table I looked up and noticed that it was still light outside. Instead of the pitch dark we had become accustomed to, there was a faintly pink sunset just wrapping up. I mentioned it to Brian and the girls, and we all agreed that spring might really be here soon. Later, a glance at my Instagram feed showed that others had noticed the pink glow, too.
Then today, a brief morning downpour greeted us as we left the house. The kind that makes everything smell like dirt. A spring rain. Once it had passed, I took a long walk. Suddenly, the warm sun was out, snow seemed to be melting in one giant gush, and the birds were chirping madly.
A week ago, I may have doubted it. But today, I tell you with total confidence that spring is coming. read more »
My first Brooklyn apartment had a distant view of the Chrysler building. You had to climb out the kitchen window and stand on an adjacent roof to see it, but still it was there. Brian and I would sit out there in the evenings, filled with all the optimism that young love and any kind of view of the NYC skyline inspires, and dream our dreams. We planned to take the city by storm. We’d also talk about having kids and all the things we wanted for these potential humans. read more »
Antoine-Auguste Parmentier, for whom potage Parmentier and a host of other potato dishes are named, is the rare agronomist whose life makes for an interesting read (George Washington Carver is another and after that I’ve got nothing.) While we now think of the potato as central to European peasant cuisine, that wasn’t the case in Parmentier’s time, prior to the French Revolution. An import from South America where it was a staple for the Indians of the Andes, the potato hadn’t caught on as human food in Europe and was thought to only to be edible only for animals. read more »
As the days and weeks add up, as the fall seems to have gone from just beginning to full-on, I’m feeling a little stunned. I’ve loved every minute of the mild early fall weather. Now that things have edged colder, and I find myself a little bewildered even thinking of coats. But, the occasional blast from the heater, my withered garden, and all these pumpkins seem to point to the inevitable. Soup weather, we meet again. read more »
The main way a windy New York day differs from days in other places I’ve lived is in the amount of debris blowing down the street. In Virginia a windy day might have meant some blowing leaves and a few papers, but here, the walls of buildings channel the wind into something powerful enough to really pull up all sorts of things from who knows where and I’ve seen large plastic sheets, advertising circulars, trashcans and their contents all tumbling down the street. I once saw a pair of couch cushions blow by our building like tumbleweeds. It can be a little frightening if you’re out in it, especially if you’re walking by a construction site (which is every other lot in our neighborhood), but looking out the window, it’s easy to imagine everything old is being blown away and you’re getting a fresh start. read more »
How do you like to cook? Is it the process or the end result? Are you inspired by the ingredients in their raw states, or only after they’ve been transformed? For some reason, this soup got me thinking about that stuff. Blogging has changed how I cook, and sometimes I worry that it has slowly made food feel like work. This dish took me back to my cooking roots and made us all a little happier. read more »