“What dreadful hot weather we have! It keeps one in a continual state of inelegance.” Jane Austen Sometimes it’s too hot to cook. Sometimes it’s too hot to eat. But, eventually, we do. And if you can manage a meal with minimal effort, while (perhaps) drinking a cold glass of rosé, never breaking your stride … Continue reading Green Melon/Cucumber Gazpacho
“Paris! Meaning the Café Select, the Dôme, the Flea Market, the American Express.” Henry Miller People don’t come to Le Select to be seen. They come for lunch. And dinner, or a snack at 3:00am. Or to play chess on the terrasse or under the block glass skylight in the back, or just bavarder with the … Continue reading Historically Drinking…
“I like reality. It tastes like bread.” Jean Anouilh …and then there are the rainy days, the snail days, the days of duck and cover. Weaving ‘round the puddles like a so-late-it’s-early drunk. And in a cobbled town, a labyrinth of streets, with a chill that filters up through roman stones and bones, a morning … Continue reading Bread Alone…
Several July 4ths ago, when travel was possible… Pine burns hot, fast and faster – tumbling headlong, embracing immolation in a hissing, spitting rush. It makes good kindling for harder species like oak and ash, a satisfying crackle of resinous sputters like tiny solar flares igniting the denser, longer-burning woods. I’ve spent the past several … Continue reading Another Place…
Chasing Snails (And Other Movable Feasts) 