These little berries on the old sour bush.
Fresh rosemary plucked from my daughter’s hand as she was fussing over a pan of balsamic, garlic, and honey chicken. She volunteered to cook Christmas dinner as her gift to me. She was worried she couldn’t afford to buy gifts. Her academic course load was heavy this semester, I suggested she drop her campus job and focus on classes. She didn’t need to worry. I told her I’d only accept her gift of a meal if she was doing it… Keep Reading
Mulling spice from the organic cooperative market. One of our new traditions is making hot mulled apple cider for the holidays — Thanksgiving and Christmas. I pick her up from school, we grab two gallons of fresh apple cider from our favorite orchard, stop by the market for bulk spices, and head home to start the holiday festivities. It’s only been two years since we started this tradition, but I can’t imagine a time when we didn’t do it, as… Keep Reading
Trick or treat? You decide. There’s something haunting about my little apple, aside from the obvious razor jutting out from its stem. So inviting, like most temptations, so familiar its benign. That moment whole food intersects horror.
When the greatest challenge in your day is pulling silk from the kernels of corn you’ll transform into a vegetable sautee, it’s a damn fine day.
I dressed and slipped out the back door while he was in the shower. I was ten miles away when my mobile pinged with a text message from him asking, “where’d you go?” I rolled down the window and continued the 30 miles drive north, the ocean to my left, Solange’s A Seat at the Table filling the car and fueling my thoughts (at times to the point of tears), to my favorite harborside cafe and then to the bookstore to pick… Keep Reading
I love being a mom. That is not to say motherhood is all roses and candy, it is not, but I love it. I always thought I would have a gaggle of babies, imagined myself with double strollers, bouncy seats and baby babble swelling the rooms in my house. Picture one in a bassinet, one in a sling across my chest, and two toddling behind me and now you have a good snapshot of my motherhood fantasy at the age… Keep Reading