When the world falls away, what else can you do but pause a moment to think of your own little world?
We are in a haze at the moment, with smoke from forest fires to the west and the north drifting into our valley of paradise. Depending on which way the wind blows, the smoke hangs on one side of the valley or the other.
When I got up this morning, everything but our little domain had disappeared in an eerie sort of brownish fog. I could see the vegetable fields, and the farm market at the end of the street, but the town and hills beyond were gone. There was no sign of the lake and what was usually beyond seemed a figment of my imagination. In the air was the scent of ash, charcoal – like the melancholy smell that signifies the end of an evening bonfire.
I suddenly felt a rush of gratitude. Here I was walking casually with Ella, having just stopped to nibble berries from our bushes in the front yard. I watched the young crew picking cucumbers and zucchinis from the fields to be sold at the farm market. So peaceful. But with an underlying sense of foreboding.
I was struck later in the day too, by a story shared from someone I know of their recent tough family times. They were stoic, and gave the advice “Hug your loved ones. Hug them hard.” I was heartbroken for them in their difficulty and also inspired by their ability to carry on. Using love as a force in life, a way to sustain oneself, is quite possibly the best diet you can adopt.
I’m using today as motivation to focus even more on the value of my time to sit and share a meal. The simple moments around a table are the perfect time for us to soak in the love and be grateful for our blessings.
There but for the grace of God go I.
…if the person who invented fireworks was inspired by Mother Nature?
As I watered the garden today it occurred to me that it holds plenty of inspiration.
But there are many possibilities, both in individual blossoms and the entire plants as well as the landscape itself. There is no set design…
Mary, Mary, quite contrary
How does your garden grow?
With silver bells and cockle shells
And pretty maids all in a row.
It always seemed like a silly nursery rhyme to me; anyone can see that gardens don’t want to grow in a row.
Here’s to unruly blossoms that wave in the wind and gardens that inspire the child in all of us!
In a world where things move at 4G (or is it 5G now, I can’t remember) and there is a lot of non-stop noise, it’s nice to enjoy a slow and quiet moment. One of my favourite reasons for walking the dog is to have those kind of moments. Another way I take a deep breath is to spend time in my garden. The first method I discovered for stepping back from the fray was reading.
Today I stopped at the local Chapters to stock up on reading material. I do have books at home, but I was looking for inspiration, new information to broaden my horizons. I also have to manage my time and focus on priorities. I don’t know about you, but if I have a good book I have been known to disappear inside it for lengths of time. I can only allow shorter intervals right now, so having something that was of shorter duration was more practical. A few food magazines was just enough to do the trick.
Just buying the magazines put me in a state of euphoria. Choosing publications that offered something unique was important; I don’t need to read about 15 different variations on brownies or omelettes. I wanted something outside the box.
Scooping up the last few issues of Lucky Peach was important; if you haven’t heard of this periodical yet, unfortunately it’s almost too late. The offbeat and ingenious effort from Momofuku’s David Chang and Peter Meehan will be shutting down later this year. (I invite you to at least check out their website for brilliantly written pieces.)
I am a fan of foodie travel, and my current favourite on that front is Saveur. There used to be a similar magazine called Intermezzo which I loved, but I can’t find it anymore. (You have to roll with the punches.) I have learned of cuisines in faraway places, and ingredients I never knew existed. I have added places to my bucket list and filled my kitchen with aromas that had me transported across the world.
As a treat, I picked up a special edition on California wine, as we are travelling there in the fall. Not only will I have some new pairing ideas, I might find a few pit stops. After all, travelling is thirsty work.
Hiding in the back shelves was a title I hadn’t seen before, so I splurged and picked it up too. I love to know how things work and Milk Street is all about the how’s and why’s of a dish. It’s a new publication; I’ll let you know how I like it.
I suppose you could call this literary gluttony a guilty pleasure. There are many websites with foodie information, and articles galore on every topic imaginable. But there is something comforting in putting my feet up and flipping those glossy pages, pondering the delectable food photos as I sip my tea. I consider this akin to meditation, a time for my mind to wander at leisure with no agenda. As much as my workouts are important to stay in shape and my recipe testing helps with my writing, a bit of mental free time helps me find my ways to new ideas. Sometimes, like a walk with Ella where I let her decide the route, my mind will wander down its own path and find a solution to a challenge that doesn’t even involve food.
I read an article today about Paula Wolfert, a renowned cookbook author and icon in the world of food and restaurants. She has Alzheimer’s disease, and so not only does she not remember how to cook many recipes anymore – she also has lost much of her sense of taste. And yet, she is still working with food and with people who want to learn from her. (I can’t wait to read the biography of her that is coming out soon. If you’d like to read the article, it’s on my Facebook page. )
Reading Ms. Wolfert’s story reminded me that every moment counts. Even with a life rich in memories, we need to make every effort to live our best life in every moment. There is a zen saying:
Quiet the mind and the soul will speak.
I’d like my soul’s vocabulary to improve.
I’ve been meaning to make potato latkes since I saw a recipe posted before Hannukah. I’m not Jewish, I just like the look, and the idea of savoury “pancakes” for dinner. So tonight was the night!
The recipe took a bit of fiddling with, but I got it to work, and was most pleased with the results as they cooked – it was easy to do them in the oven.
The trick was, we were having fish with the latkes, so the usual applesauce accompaniement didn’t make sense. I adapted a Caribbean mango condiment to serve with it and voila! If I do say so myself, it was a delicious meal. I included some fresh spinach, my hubby made a sort of salmon slider – we both enjoyed it immensely.
Winter in most of Canada is cold, windy and white. Kids and animals are mostly okay with that, but most adults don’t seem to have much patience for wintery weather. I walk every morning with my chocolate Labrador, Ella, in a fruit orchard and pumpkin patch so I’m out there in the elements daily. I decided that I might as well enjoy it, and so I look to Ella for inspiration.
This year the snow has built up and it’s gotten harder to walk each day. There is no real path as we are the only regular walkers, except for the odd coyote or deer tracks we see. So in loose snow I felt as though I was making two steps forward and one step back. I already do a workout inside, so I didn’t want to be doing more. Then I noticed Ella’s pawprints in the snow – she spreads out her toes in deep snow, to make the best use of her webbed Labrador paws. Her usually tiny feet with their winter fur between the pads end up almost twice the size – like snowshoes! “Aha”, I thought – I can get on that bandwagon. This morning our little sojourn in the field was much more enjoyable with my snowshoes on. Ella was in a fine mood too, bounding off my track to leap in the deep snow like a baby deer.
We were lucky enough to have some blue sky and sunshine today, so I did my best to soak in the good vibe. Ella leads the way, and she is a great role model for enjoying the moment. She trots along, not afraid to stick her head deep in the snow to sniff out the tracks of another creature (even if it is a woozle). She bounds about, and if I stop to blow my nose, as often happens on a cold day, she will happily plunk down, her fuzzy bum in the snow (makes me cold just to see it happen!) She also loves to eat the snow.
So here’s my foodie epiphany for the day: take a moment to truly experience the weather. I scooped my mitten in the fluffy snow and took a tongueful. It tasted clean, it sparkled on my tongue the same way it sparkled in the sunlight. It was pure and fresh and gone too soon. I wanted more. After a few mouthfuls I was deep in the memory of days spent tobogganing and playing tag on sticky frozen monkey bars. My heart soared with the sheer joy of it all.
P.S. If you’re wondering what a woozle is, brush up on your Winnie the Pooh here.