Oh, dear. I’ve neglected my blog for weeks, and all my pictures have disappeared! But thank goodness I have a place in my new kitchen to start over:
I’m relatively comfortable with tech, but certainly inexpert in wordpress. So, reluctantly, I think I’ll focus on new posts and not worry too much about what I have lost. This is a start.
A lot happened in the kitchen while I was eating my way through NOLA.
Now that I can see things coming together, I’m ready to choose backsplash tiles and wall color. There is a lot left to do, and it will be a few weeks yet, so it’s a good thing I like my contractor, John Schmalzried and his Kolina Construction team.
I can’t wait to use and share this space!!
There’s been a bit of creative destruction happening…
It’s time for a change. And I think I’m ready. This kitchen, which has always been everything I could have asked for, deserves an update.
I’ve spent more time here than anywhere else over the last forty years. I’ve cooked for my family and my friends, for visitors from close to home and around the world. I’ve cooked with and for my friends, my mother, my children, and my grand-daughter. I’ve cooked for family meals, casual get-togethers, fancy dinner parties, and countless fundraisers. I’ve cooked for birthdays, weddings, celebrations and sadnesses.
Before the pandemic halted all my planning, I began to explore new kitchen ideas. We were reaching the limits of patching and repairing, We had replaced the fancy German hinges, we had re-glued the terra cotta-look vinyl tiles. We had, over and over, re-hung the overworked cabinet doors. New lights, new appliances, new colors, each better than the last. Or at least different.
Once one gets started, it’s amazing how quickly a room can be emptied of the ingredients, the utensils, the cookware, the art, all the stuff both cherished and forgotten collected over forty years.
Today, the kitchen is a shell. Over the next several weeks, we’ll make a new kitchen. While that is happening, I want to remember some of the meals that have been prepared here. Some of the food, some of the events, some of the people. If you’re interested, watch this space.
Tomorrow, March 27th, my sister Martha would have turned 65 if she had not died in 2001, suddenly and unexpectedly and too soon. I miss her every day.
Martha did a lot of living before she died. She learned, she loved, she traveled, and she left us with her daughter, Gina, and a lot of memories.
Martha was a big fan of bubbles, and tomorrow we’ll drink one of her favorites, Freixenet Brut in the black bottle. We will remember her bold and adventurous nature and be glad that we knew her. She helped teach Olivia to ride a bike, she helped Johanna get a tattoo before we were ready to do that, and she was here with me to welcome Sam when he was born.
Enjoy every day.
I have absolutely no desire to spend extended time in Florida. But this cold spell has been a little longer than the ideal, and today’s sunshine is especially welcome. I’ve been hibernating for almost a week, but warmer days are sure to come.
“Winter is not a season, it’s an occupation”
Sinclair Lewis
I’m glad that we decided to minimize garden cleanup this year and leave some winter plant structure. While I am eager for spring, this was lovely. This cold is a lot for Toledo, but it pales in comparison to the upstate NY winters I grew up with.
“I wonder if the snow loves the trees and fields, that it kisses them so gently? And then it covers them up snug, you know, with a white quilt; and perhaps it says, ‘go to sleep, darlings, till the summer comes again.” Lewis Carroll
When I was young, my mother frequently gave me cut glass pieces, often chipped, but still beautiful. I was afraid to use them and most of the time they sat, collecting dust and making me feel vaguely guilty for neglecting them. Somehow, I’m over it. These bowls are sitting on the radiator in the living room near the Christmas tree. So far, they seems to hold no interest for the cat or even for Aloisa. But I like sitting near them, I love the way they look, and I am amused by my image reflected in the cheap ornaments they are holding.
My mother was a collector, as were many of her sisters. They liked silver and china and glass. My mother didn’t particularly enjoy entertaining, but she liked to display her treasures. Mostly, I like to use mine, and I intend to use them even more. I’ve always loved old things, even more now that I am one. I wonder if any of my children will want them.
“Clutter in its highest and most organized form is called collecting. …”
I admit it: along with millions of other Americans, last night we watched Red Notice. Sometimes pure escapism is okay, right?
But in books, as opposed to television, my standards are higher. I’ve begun the new Louise Erdrich novel, The Sentence, and I fully intend to finish it this week. Oddly, the last book I read was also about books.
Before I made my choice and downloaded the Erdrich book, I made a quick stop at B&N, expecting that, despite my intention to avoid adding clutter to my bookshelves, I would find something irresistible. It turns out that, post-pandemic, my stuff-resistance muscles have become stronger. The only thing I bought was a chocolate brownie, quickly consumed.
Since we were on our own for dinner, I turned to Melissa Clark’s menu for two . Because John felt like cooking and I had already thawed scallops and bought romaine (from a NYC greenhouse, oddly), I zeroed in on Melissa’s dessert recipe and made the pumpkin-and-date sticky toffee puddings. Perfect.
Clearly, two years of shopping only virtually have changed us. Who knows what’s next?
Once in a while it’s nice to write here, kind of a diary, shared with whoever wants to read it. Hello again.
Tonight I’m reading Ruth Ozeki’s The Book of Form and Emptiness. Haunting and haunted. I think it’s the first book I have read that is (partially) narrated by a book. Her earlier book was centered around a diary discovered in a Hello Kitty lunchbox, having floated across the Pacific. This book centers around people, with an omniscient book observing and commenting. Spooky.
Our holiday season has begun, and it promises new experiences alongside the traditions. It will be hard to beat the classic dinner we had at TOLHouse last night, and I plan to take Thursday off, but I’m looking forward to cooking at least one meal drawn from my favorite Palestinian cookbooks. I ordered the Ozeki book from Gathered Volumes, knowing that I want to own it and happy to bypass Amazon. When I went to Perrysburg to pick it up, Zaitoun caught my eye and has already become a favorite.
So many thoughts swirling in my head. I hope to organize them a bit by writing them down and, maybe, to bring them to conversations IRL. Join me?