new year – Making it in Toledo

to a new year

I know it is cold outside this morning because the radiator in the bathroom is extra hot. And because the first thing I did when I woke up was to check “weather.com” on my phone. My computer screen tells me that today is Friday, and I believe it although it feels like Sunday, the day after a (very small) celebration and the day before a (as yet undefined) new week. Since the sky is cloudy, my sense of time is independent of the sun.

But when I make dinner today (a version of Marcus Samuelson’s BEP) https://www.foodandwine.com/recipes/black-eyed-peas-coconut-milk-and-ethiopian-spices) I will use all my senses. Maybe that’s why I love cooking.

I hope that in 2021 I can cook for friends as well as family. I hope that in 2021 some of my meals will be inside restaurants, carefully prepared and served by other people.

I hope that in 2021 some of my days will begin with a different view, maybe not a view of far away places – I love being at home – but as grateful as I am to be sheltering in place, I miss other places.

This year has gone on for a LONG time. I’ve been undeservedly lucky and I am grateful. Always.

When we gather…

Our first celebration of the new year was a few days ago, a small family-and-friends party for John’s birthday. We ate, we drank, and all the guests went home before the storm hit.

In 2020 I’m going to enjoy life and share the enjoyment. The existential threat of climate change is always in the background but it doesn’t have to always be the focus.

Do you think Nancy Pelosi is enjoying life? What about Greta Thunberg? Alice Waters is another one of my sheroes; I’m pretty sure she is.

I crossed paths with Alice once, years ago, at an amazing Slow Food event in the mountains outside of Puebla, Mexico. Lots of mezcal and tequila, chocolate being stirred in a big vat, delicious food and, after dark, the spine-tingling surprise appearance of animal-costumed musician/priests making otherworldly music. It’s a nice memory.

For a few weeks I think I’ll jump on the gratitude bandwagon and write about it here. I’m grateful for the satisfaction it gives me to gather people together around a table, to connect people who enjoy each other, to share food and wine and conversation. I’m grateful when other people include me in their gatherings.

Here’s to 2020.

Approaching 2019, slowly…

Some years we party, and some years we stay home for New Years Eve. Tonight we’re staying in, but I have high hopes of being awake at midnight and kicking off the year I’ll turn 69.

Social media is full of fireworks tonight. The best fireworks I ever saw were in 2007 in Puebla, Mexico, at a Slow Food Congress. We’d just started our local chapter and I was incredibly lucky to be one of 600 delegates to the first international Slow Food event to be held outside of Italy.

The discussions were long and earnest, but there were plenty of breaks, during which generous trays of mezcal and pulque shots were passed, paired with freshly fried chicharrones and a (successful, I think) attempt to create the largest-ever gathering of mariachis . One meal featured an appetizer of fried grasshoppers. Another highlighted chiles en nogada.

After one day’s sessions, we boarded buses and were driven to a dark mountain outside of town (a volcano, I suppose). Eerie music helped build the anticipation. The moon was full. It was not hard to believe that the costumed figures which visited us were really ancient gods returning to help us celebrate. The highlight for me was being there with Alice Waters, although the closest I got to her was standing in line in the ladies’ room.

The sendoff on our last day was a giant snail, which turned out to be the launching pad for the aforementioned fireworks.

I learned a lot from Slow Food during the 10 years I helped lead our local chapter. One thing I learned was that it took a lot of work to keep the group together. I hope 2019 brings some new energy to Slow Food Maumee Valley.