Notes from a Maine Kitchen Blog Archive 2007
It's mid-December and we've made it through Chanukah and still have the solstice and Christmas to go. So far my most memorable holiday moment involves a teenage girl, several pounds of butter and sugar, huge blocks of chocolate, and a bunch of walnuts.
A large box arrived last week from Sonoma, California. I wasn't expecting anything so I was curious to read the note from my old friend: "Here's a little project we can do together when I come visit next week. Can't wait to see you. Love, Elisa."
Here's the thing about fall: it's nearly perfect. We still have lots of bright, intense sun, punctuated by all those brilliantly-colored leaves. The nights are cold and crisp, "good sleeping weather," as they say around here. And while the light grows shorter each day, I still feel energetic this time of year. Certainly the kitchen calls to me. I've starting simmering all kinds of soups - the last of the garden tomatoes with the last of the basil; butternut squash and
The fields surrounding the farm have all been hayed
The end of August/ beginning of September triggers a deep melancholy in me. It doesn't help that I'm sending one daughter back to college today and another back to high school in less than a week. The way I figure it, I spent 16 years segueing from the freedom of summer vacation to the discipline of back-to-school. And despite the fact that I haven't been a student for close to thirty years, I still anticipate the coming of fall and the back-to-school transition with
The salad bowl will be filled with several types of lettuce, baby spinach, arugula, a handful of chopped herbs, and baby scallions weeded out from the onion patch. The larger spinach leaves will be saut`ed with garlic scapes (the part of spring garlic that crowns the top of the plant with exaggerated comma-like curls and bursts with a scalliony-garlic essence). The peas and
When people list their favorite things about summer they tend to mention obvious indulgences like going to the beach, swimming in lakes and the ocean, gardening, eating freshly-grown fruit and vegetables, and relishing all those long, lazy days. But for me there is a more obscure joy, one I look forward to all year.
How do you define "art?" I often hear chefs, restaurateurs, and caterers referred to as "artists." Mostly I find this pretentious, but I also wonder if it's true. Do you have to be a painter, a dancer, or a sculptor to be called an "artist?" There's an art to creating really good food, but are chefs "artists?"