“And all the lives we ever lived and all the lives to be are full of trees and changing leaves.” Virginia Woolf It’s a bowl full of jumbled globes, the size of large olives or medium escargot, set casually to one side of the cheesemongers slab, that catches my attention. They are dusty-green, veined with … Continue reading Savage Fruit…
“We must have a pie. Stress cannot exist in the presence of a pie.” David Mamet – Boston Marriage The French don’t do pies. They have ‘pie-like’ things: Tartes, mostly – Tarte aux pommes, Tarte Tatin (insert any fruit you want, add a little pastry cream); an argument could be made for clafoutis being vaguely, … Continue reading Sometimes, pie…
There is not a thing that is more positive than bread. Fyodor Dostoevsky I have written about bread before, and talk of bread is unavoidable, but this is about the morning walk, the intention. There is a purity of purpose that is a raw and cleansing way to begin the day. There is no rush, … Continue reading Walking for Bread…
“I asked the maid in dulcet toneTo order me a buttered scone;The silly girl has been and goneAnd ordered me a buttered scone.” ~ Punch Magazine, 1912 There are few things lovelier on a rainy morning, than a still-warm scone to crumble with your coffee. It’s basic, nothing complicated, and absolutely satisfying. If you have … Continue reading Rising Up…
…there’s this cookie in France. More of a cake-like thing, really. About the size of a Madeleine scallop, and made from a similar but less glorious yellow sponge cake, shaped like a bear. Where the paws are, there are dollops of chocolate. It’s called “Lulu l’ourson” – Lulu the bear. It’s nothing extraordinary – it’s … Continue reading Lost in French-lation, Misadventures in French Advertising…
“You know why the French hate us so much? Thay gave us the croissant. And you know what we did with it? We turned it into the croissandwich, thank you very much.” Dennis Leary In my youth in the Midwest croissants were regarded as somewhat of a luxury item, trotted out occasionally for the impressive … Continue reading Layer upon Layer: the Secret Life of Croissants…
“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…
Chasing Snails (And Other Movable Feasts) 