Posts in Savory
morning eggs

Spring is finally here. We're faced with sporadic weather, changing by the week. Sneezing noses are all the rage. All of the sudden I'm remembering what humidity is like. And for all these things, I couldn't be happier.

Spring really is rebirth. It's new life. It's the birds in my backyard that literally shout across the trees every morning. It's the flowers on my table and the breeze that brushes my back. This winter has felt long, longer than usual. I think all the transitions and changes that have taken place this year have caused all aspects of my life to be drug out in their intensity. And now that spring has come, it really, truly feels like the first time in my life that I've smelled these aromas and heard these songs. I had forgotten that this would, actually, come again, that we wouldn't stay in short days and cold nights forever. All of the sudden this beauty is hitting me like a gust of wind on my face, forcing my eyes opening and rushing air through my nose and my mouth, renewing my sight and my lungs. And all of the sudden my heart is softened, my understanding is more tender, my gratitude explodes. "Thank you, thank you for beauty and gifts and new life."

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homemade mayo & peppery garlic aioli

Yay for life! Today is blue-skyed and breezy, quite warm for an October day but beautiful nonetheless.

Yesterday I bought big-girl perfume (this, if you care to know). Last night my mom slept over; we had Scottish gin with tonic and cucumber wedges and chicken soup with buttercup squash and kale while we watched one of our favorite movies. I was off work today so this morning we drank coffee on the porch and ate peppery fried eggs and talked about cake combinations and how to skin a lizard. Just kidding, we didn't talk about that last part; more like where to plug in the new string lights I bought for my porch. And then I put on lipstick and perfume and went to the local restaurant supply store to buy a candy thermometer, where the middle-aged Italian woman who works there called me sweetie. And when I got home I listened to this and made homemade mayonnaise and black pepper garlic aioli, just like the one at my sister's restaurant.
Tonight we will go to a pub and eat fish & chips, in honor of my darling Gran's birthday. I will wear her old wind-up watch and pretend like I'm back in Scotland, and we will probably cry and tell some stories. She would have been 69 today, and she was one of the most treasured and joyful people I've ever known.

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hand-chopped pesto

As I said in my last post, I think I need to write more. When I studied abroad in Italy, I was an intern for an online Italian newspaper. Every week I would write a short article on my time abroad- the latest element of culture shock, the beautiful moments I was experiencing, a noteworthy comparison between the States and Italy, etc. Some days I truly didn't feel like writing, but I had to make the deadline. So I'd camp at the table in my apartment for an hour or two, drink my coffee, eat some fruit, and write until my thoughts were complete and the page was filled up.

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tomato, basil, and goat cheese galette

When I went to Italy, I knew that the food was going to be out of this world. That's part of the reason I chose to study abroad there. I've always loved Italian food; my dad has cooked with that flair ever since I can remember. So I knew I'd love it, and I knew I'd love the authenticity of it. But what I didn't expect was the simplicity of it all.

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Bruschetta, a First Dinner

The flavors of my family are as such...

Garlic. Balsamic. Pepper. Olive oil. Parmesan. Dijon. Spinach. Pasta. Basil.

A collective whole that is tangy and zingy on the tongue but full and comforting in body. It bursts with depth, adventure, and richness. The crisp chop of the garlic and the traveling aroma of its mysterious spicy-sweet complexity. The thick creaminess of dijon shaken with balsamic vinegar and bold olive oil... It all combines after the first few cuts on the plate. Chicken, rice, and spinach merge with the mud to create a mix of homey perfection. And when it's all gone, the crispy bread fulfills its role by swooping in and mopping up leftovers that simply cannot be left behind. It is only to be followed by a hoping finger that ventures to the plate and returns to the mouth with a smidgen of the meal's flavors for the taste buds to fight over.

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