Wednesday

Lunch:
1 banana, 1 apple, handful of nuts

Dinner:
Shaved Steak with Chimichurri and Jus on the side
English Peas

There is a confusing briskness in the air. Its almost like the false resolution in the plot of a well-crafted film. The descent from the extreme, though all-too-brief, heat of the summer, to lows of 50 degrees should not occur practically overnight. But we humans love to be fooled by easy plot reversals. We can't wait to be shocked SHOCKED I TELL YOU when the temps return to their late summer funky sweaty norms. And we will call it 'New England' and shake our heads, flinging the sweat in all directions. Right before the coffee in our cup freezes right before our disbelieving eyes...

Tuesday

Lunch:
1 apple, 1 banana, many peanuts

Dinner:
Burnt End KC BBQ Sandwich (courtesy Blue Ribbon BBQ)
Collards
Cole Slaw

It has been almost a month since my last post. Much has happened, food-wise and otherwise. Most importantly, my oven broke. I have been without the ability to bake for nearly four weeks. The only other time this has happened was during the ice storm, when I was also reduced to eating what could be boiled, braised or fried on a stove top. It was a good lesson then, and it is a good lesson now (although surely I've learned my lesson and can return to the cultivated art of the gently directed heat).

I've spoken before about how soothing and stabilizing the integrated process of baking bread can be once the rhythm is developed. Every once in a while, one has to step outside that rhythm to appreciate it. Life, since the failure of a single circuit block in my Kenmore range, has swung back and forth like a drunken pendulum. Like a grandfather clock's anchor escapement trying to maintain regularity during an earthquake or an Allied bombing in Dresden. Its inefficient, it barely gets the job done and it wears itself out in the process. Its powerful mojo when you create or break a pattern. But you'll never even notice till you are ripped from that pattern out of the blue. We are as dependent on our patterns as cats, only not quite as clever.

What's a guy to do? Get that part and get back to the method and madness.

Monday

Lunch:
French Omelet with fried salt pork cubes and gorgonzola

Dinner:
braised pork ribs with BBQ sauce built from the jus and tomato and hot sauce

Tomorrow will be the beginning of nearly a week spent in New Orleans, or really, the French Quarter, since my accommodations are on Canal Street and I won't have a car. Yes, its a for a conference for my job, but there is no travel money in the department budget this year, so its all coming out of Daddy's pocket. And when travel to a place like Noo OR Lins (or 'Noo Or LEENS', but never 'Nawlins' despite everything you've ever seen in a bad hollywood film), Daddy's pockets will justify only so much work and so little pay. Daddy's pockets want a ROI.

So there will be gumbo (and booze) and muffuletta or po'boy (and beer) and oysters (and white wine) and etouffe and on and on and on. There will clean sheets and a fantastic view of the river. There will be sweating and gnashing of the teeth and mosquitoes and a sad feeling that the quarter isn't what it used to be, for good and ill. We shall see indeed, and if we succeed in attaining wifi, we might even write a word or two about it for those not able to venure into the miasma that is 98% humidity...

Sunday

Lunch:
Shaved steak with gorgonzola
Crackers

Dinner:
Ragu with ground lamb on Rotini
Sauteed Snow Peas
Chocolate Mint Ice Cream

Its been a while. Life has been a little crazy. Sometimes that's a good thing. Sometimes that's a great thing. Sometimes you're on the wrong end of the billy club. Sometimes, in the chain of events, something you take for granted that you re-visit nearly every day is suddenly gone and you are left looking on the shelf in askance. Patterns allow us to work safely on autopilot. And I guess the worst part of autopilot is that its easy to lose sight of that fact that important parts of your life can end up in autopilot, whether you like it or not. I bake bread every other day, but my oven broke a few days ago, and I am just now realizing how important that ritual was for me. Not just the bennie of fresh sourdough every day, but the process subconsciously kept me moving forward. Always producing the next loaf. Always finishing off the last one as I'm working on the next one. Never really cogitating on it, but always relying on it. Bedrock, tasty tangy bedrock.

Well, now I am.

I'll probably not be posting for the next week, while I'm in New Orleans eating and drinking my way from one side of the quarter to the other (blasted iPod Touch and Blogger still don't work together). Beignet, Po'boys, gumbo, oysters, Zapp's and missing the ability drink a sixer of Dixie on the street corner without getting a second glance.

Tuesday

Lunch:
Two Egg Sandwich on sourdough

Dinner:
Hickory Grilled Honey Glazed Shrimp
Hickory Grilled Lemon Thyme Tuna (with a Soy Ginger Parsley Dipping sauce)
Chocolate Dipped Strawberries

Monday

Lunch:
Quick Stuffed Shells with leftover lamb ragu and cheddar

Dinner:
Skipped it, while attending the Pink Martini show in Portland

Sunday

Lunch:
hearty bowl of ramen and vegetables

Dinner:
Linguine (not mine) with lamb ragu
Steamed corn
sourdough

I heard a photographer last night speak about tension and flow in a composition, and, as I am wont to do, I immediately associated this with flavors in a a perfect dish. A single flavor doesn't make for food; even Jello has a complex flavor, no matter how unrefined. True taste artistry requires a principled blending of tones, very similar to chord structures in a musical arrangement. Think of salt (and crushed black pepper) as a bass note, an anchor. Think of citrus or vinegar acidity as timber or reverb or the highlights in an image. Think of the Maillard caramelization reactions as gamma values that temper the blandness of individual raw proteins and sugars in the target food. Think of texture as musical timing, allowing you the ability to listen to the Beer Barrel Polka OR Take Five by Dave Brubeck. This is what separates dining from eating and cooking from microwaving. This is where the secrets of the universe are kept. Be good to your taste buds. Live through them. Don't limit them.

Saturday

Lunch:
Grilled 3 cheese sandwich (idiazabal, cheddar, goat cheese)

Dinner:
Fresh Homemade Pasta (thick wide Fettucine)
Ragu with Lamb and fresh Herbs
Fresh Sourdough
Edamame

On re-learning the process for making homemade pasta, I remember that its a very tactile process. You simply can't leave it to a Kitchenaid or the like. You have to have it in your hands ultimately to judge the density and flexibility. You have to exert physical force to extrude out your dinner. You have to manually separate each strand of pasta from its mate to dry properly before cooking. Its not difficult, unless you are afraid of interacting with what you are going to eat. But the most rewarding sort of meal...

Friday

Lunch:
Fresh Sourdough and Goat Cheese sandwich

Dinner:
Fresh Homemade Wheat Pasta with my Quick Puttanesca
Steamed English Peas
Sourdough

A break in the weather, meteorologically, philosophically, socially, mentally, emotionally and with regard to the preparation of glutenous treats. You want the pasta? You can't HANDLE the pasta...

Thursday

Lunch:
Chicken Salad on Sourdough

Dinner:
Chicken Salad
Crackers

Wednesday

Lunch:
Leftover Risotto with Edamame
Sourdough Bread Butt

Dinner:
Herb roasted Chicken (with lemon thyme and basil)
smashed potato
steamed string beans
Fresh Sourdough

Tuesday

Lunch:

Purple Hull Peas

Cathead Biscuits

Dinner:

Homemade Wheat and Basil Fettucine with Herbed Oil and Onions

Risotto with Edamame

Much happiness. The Pasta cutter is in perfect shape. Time to stock up on the durum again...

The long hiatus

The long hiatus requires no explanation. There's only so much of the right stuff to go around. There's only so many hours in the day. There are only so many electrons to fire off the right synapses and get words through fingertips and into the public record. The well does indeed run dry at times. When one reaches a moment in which one is spending more time writing and composing about the meal than one is actually enjoying said meal, the time has come to get affairs in order.

And thus, it begins again. Rest assured, anonymous readers, that I was eating well and contentedly in the past three weeks of the absence I took from these notes. And I return happily and ready to record the substance of the sustenance.

Monday

Lunch:
Shaved Steak 3 cheese Quesodillas

Dinner:
Big nasty steak and cheese omelet
sourdough

The musical chairs game of moving the upstairs rooms around finished yesterday. There is a seasonal movement of the bedroom, depending on the season. Because the master bedroom has no real heat, its almost painful in the winter. So I use the small bedroom on the sunny side of the house until the temperature stops going near the freezing mark. Then the bedroom and all its trappings run back to the vaulted ceilings of the master bedroom. The editing room moves across the hall into the former bedroom, and the practice space moves into the former editing room. If I were capable of it, this woulod be an excellent time to throw out a lot of accumulated junk. If only...

Sunday

Lunch:
Shaved Steak 3 cheese Quesodilla
Oatmeal Butterscotch Cookies (like a half dozen in one sitting)
Charlie Maner White Zin Pellegrino Spritz

Dinner:
Last of the Chuck Roast stew (sad to see you go, friend)
sourdough

Last night there was a big top circus extravaganza in the backyard, with big tents above all the new plants in the ground. Although it was lights out after dark, I know that most animals don't need them, so I spent a few moments thinking about crickets, chipmunks, earwigs, ants and all the other little bastards that live in the environs sitting in bleachers, eating hot dogs, popcorn and cotton candy and watching other little critters do tricks before vomiting that nasty spun sugar and pig parts up into a wee little garbage can.

Saturday

Lunch:
Purple Hull Peas
Sourdough bread

Dinner:
Chuck Roast Stew with carrots, potatoes and english peas
Sourdough

When you really want perspective on how lucky you really are, you have to stop and reset your brain, so that you can see what contributed to what and how so. We are trained to become inured to our successes and more sensitive to our failures and misfortunes. Eventually you can only see the problems, never the pleasures. And since most successes are built on the bones of previous failures, one also fails to see ahead into the future when the present miseries are reframed into one of many single difficult steps up what will at the end look like a very gentle easily scaled staircase. And then you will quote the great Lew Welch, "And so it has all come to this..."

But then a year later, you'll realize you weren't quite as far along as you thought. Not like now...

Friday

Lunch:
Roast with Gravy and Rice
Sourdough

Dinner:
Speck with Greens (courtesy Sel De La Terre)
Shrimp with Chorizo on Herbed Farro
Banana bread on a weird creme anglaise

I went to see a film at my favorite theater in Framingham last night, and while the film was what it was, I had more fun with watching the kids in the theater and lobby have fun on a Friday night. It struck me that the same cliques still form and that the same kids do the same things. No matter how many cell phones and internets and video games you through at high school kids, they are still going to talk trash, make out in the middle of public spaces and in general posture themselves as adults while never knowing how adorable and puppy-ish it makes them. You just want to embarrass the crap out of them and give them a big old noogie.

Thursday

Lunch:
Pizza Pie leftover

Dinner:
Slow braised chuck roast with gravy
Rice
Purple Hull Peas
Fresh sourdough

Beach Day! BEACH DAY! Think I'll take a look in the barn before heading out. Ohhhh, this place is a mess. I knew that, but jeez... OK well, maybe I'll just straighten up a little before I go. Only take a little while. Holy crap, where did all this stuff come from. Oh lord, more stuff got water damaged from the ice storm. Hmmm, I'd better get a couple more of these plants in the ground to take root before it gets cool again next week. Dammit. OK, its time to unload some of this garden crap. How many temporary pots could one ever use? R-E-C-Y-C-L-I-N-G.

What time is it? Oh well, maybe I'll go Monday if the sun is out...

Wednesday

Lunch:
Ramen Noodles with crimini mushrooms

Dinner:
Pizza Pie with bacon, crimini and onion

I don't believe in leprechauns, fairies or any of that nonsense. But there is one little species that I know exists and which one rarely if ever sees and that's the neighborhood cat. You know they are out there because you see the paw prints in the pollen every morning on your windshield. You see the look of terror on the chipmunks' faces when you know they have absolutely no fear of you. You see the security lights around the house trip on most nights for absolutely no reason. You see the catnip and cat mint clumps completely squashed all the time. But no cats in sight. and then one day you're out working in the yard, dragging crap around and sweating like a pig. Something tells you to look over your shoulder. You turn around, and under the brush is a big healthy black cat looking at you. There's a word balloon over his head that says, "yo, human, shut up, you're scaring the chipmunks away, how am I gonna nail lunch?"

And then he's gone, and you finish your job, knowing that when you leave, he'll be back to eat rodents and get stoned in your garden.

Tuesday

Lunch:

Last of the Chili, chugged out of a bowl with tortilla chips in 30 seconds

Dinner:

Whatever I could scrape together and the last of the sourdough (there was bacon involved)

The grading it was done and delivered and the new day has begun. Unfortunately, that part of my brain which says its ok to sleep past a certain hour won't get the message for days. The shift from a normal daytime job to the freedom of the summer is like a natural form of jetlag. The body has a rhythm of stress and relaxation that can't stop on a dime. This in itself isn't too strange. What is odd is that the reverse isn't true, at least for me. I'm able to shift myself back to morning hours within a day or two. So in a way, this month, I'll be heading west very slowly. And then sometime in the early fall, I'll go east very very quickly. I wish I could somehow cross a dateline in the process.

Monday

Lunch:

Chili

Dinner:

Chili

Under the gun, behind the eight ball. I do not like operating like this. Friday. The beach. Mid-70's. Nuff said.

Sunday

Lunch:

Egg sandwich on sourdough with crimini and parmesan

Dinner:

Pressure Cooker Chili (beef and pork with beans)

Rice and tortilla chips

I am surrounded by amazing women. Even the ones without kids. Simple as that. Happy Woman Day!

Saturday

Lunch:

Ramen with vegetables

Dinner:

Pizza Pie with crimini, squash, shallots and onions

Where exactly do you draw the line? And how much of life is 'almost' and 'not quite'? And what will the philosophy of mediocrity, the perspective of 'never as bad as it could be but never as good as it could be', let you achieve? Is there a choice between playing the best hand you are dealt and choosing the game you want to play? Is perfect success worth the risk of failure or is 'maintaining' the actual goal? Why does life always come down to a question of settling, like some enormous game of The Price Is Right?

And, furthermore, why do New England spring temperatures have to fluctuate between 80 and 40 over a 24-hour period for two straight weeks? We get it already!

Friday

Lunch:

Re-Fried Pork Chop Sandwich on sourdough (dynamite, try it sometime)

1 clementine

Dinner:

Last center cut Pork Chop (sadly)

Edamame in the shell steamed

Sourdough with slices of idiazabal (look it up, good and stanky)

I recently pulled my entire vinyl collection out of storage and hooked the old turntable up. Although I've been incredibly busy, I have been having old home week as I grade exam after exam. Its absolutely uncanny how brutally effective music can be at dredging up old thoughts and memories. After a few records I hadn't heard in nearly twenty years, I went to look in the mirror to compare my face with the one I remember. I found that I could literally flip a mental switch and see the 21 year old face and flip it back to see the forehead lines and increasingly obvious bags under the eyes. And the kicker is that I can't tell if I was simply an old man in a young man's body then, or if I'm a young man in an old man's body now. With the sweet grace of Providence, it won't ever make a difference.

Thursday

Lunch:

Roast Chicken on Sourdough

Dinner:

two fabulous center cut bone-in pork chops (almost 2" thick) pan fried

two baked russets

fresh sourdough

Can anyone loan me a cap and gown? I didn't buy one again this year. Dammit. Maybe I'll make one out of curtains like Gone with the Wind. In all this time, with all this money spent on degrees and experience and knowledge, I still have never bought one of those things. I never felt like that was something I even SHOULD be wearing. I'd do much better in overalls, or cutoffs. the only way I'd feel comfortable wearing one is if all professors and students had to wear cap and gown during all lectures. THAT would make the investment worthwhile. Now I'm going to have a thought to smile about all day...

Wednesday

Lunch:

Roast Chicken Sandwich on Sourdough

1 clementine

Dinner:

Bahn Xeo (Viet Crepe with shrimp and pork) (Taste of Vietnam)

Large House Special Pho

The lows this week will be in the 50's. Finally.

The lows next week are predicted to be in the 40's. Again. Finally. Fk.

Tuesday

Lunch:

Roast Chicken Sandwich on Sourdough

1 clementine

Dinner:

Mac and Cheese Leftovers, skillet fried in butter

Edamame (out of shell, steamed)

sourdough

Fat free is an abomination. The only thing that doesn't contain fat is concrete. Why would you want to eat concrete? Fat is good. It carries flavors. It improves the texture. It moves heat into food without removing moistness from it. It evenly distributes and anchors flavors onto food surfaces without negatively affecting the food's texture. It can separate layers of flavor from each other, creating unique new culinary options.

No, fat is good. Just avoid fat constructed by a factory, and accompany every fatty food with a green one and you should be fine.

Monday

Lunch:

Ramen with vegetables

Dinner:

1/2 Roast Chicken smothered in dried herbs from last years garden

Side of Mac and Cheese

sourdough bread

Although the end is in sight, it continues to seem further away. A curious combination of being too busy, too occupied and close to a deadline. Feels like that curious shot involving a rack focus and zoom in which the subject zooms in but the background is compressed and driven further away. And you find your perspective shifting from a known periphery to a lonely, ambiguous, apprehensive state of mind. And then suddenly you move right past it all, like blowing across a state border at 90 MPH. Funny how you only receive the welcome to the state about a mile after you cross the border. Perhaps they are worried you will turn around and they will have wasted the well-wishes.

Sunday

Lunch:

Greasy Chicken Paella (wine tasting at Elena's in Lunenburg)

A most remarkable chunk of basque sheep's milk cheese (idiazabal)

Dinner:

Macaroni and Cheese (made with said idiazabal, parm and cheddar)

sourdough

edamame steamed in the shell

So, though I haven't mentioned it, I wasn't able to get my herbs last Wednesday, because it was still getting too cold at night. New England doesn't allow such things. Even this Wednesday may be too early. Drat. I know the season will come soon enough and that the simple pleasure of walking barefoot out into the yard with a slice of fresh mozzarella, and wrapping it around a big ripe cherry tomato, wrapping a big basil leaf around that and biting into it will come soon enough. As will the sun-brewed sweet tea I make to drink all week. The power of a sudden thunderstorm ripping the sky apart and bending but not breaking the giant maples in the yard. Then the happy wet smell of grass that has just drunk fully from nature's measuring cup and not come up wanting for anything. Soon, but not soon enough.

Saturday

Lunch:

Tuna sandwich (with tuna juice for Chester) (blech, don't ask why)

Dinner:

Filet Mignon with smoked bacon and with blue cheese butter (Monument Grill)

Snow Peas

Some unidentifiable sort of starchy potato thing under the filet

a spongy object with the coloring of fresh bread

The funniest attempt at wine pairing I think I have ever heard in my life

Well, there you go again. You leave a place thinking your life is going in one direction, and then you get where you are going and LIFE smacks you down and grabs you and shakes you and says, "Not SO!" And all the stretching and squeezing and contorting will not prevent it. You can close your eyes, turn around, bend over and put your head between your knees, but when you throw the dart, it hits the bulls-eye and sinks a full two inches into the cork. Just try to prevent that and you'll end up with a boo-boo for which there is no succor. Just let it all go, my young grasshopper...

Friday

Lunch:

Ramen with vegetables

Dinner:

Linguine with garlic in butter and olive oil

fresh sourdough

english peas

The weather is mocking me. If I procrastinate because the weather is nice outside, the forecast predicts rain all week. If its supposed to rain and I plan on doing the things I really don't feel like doing, it turns out to be beautiful outside, and the sunlight is like an opiate, dragging outside into its rich embrace. Which sucks eggs when you're supposed to be editing some damned thing or other. I'll never learn.

Thursday

Lunch:

Last of the Red Sauce over Macaroni noodles

Sourdough

Dinner:

Last of the pulled pork on sourdough

Cole Slaw (my hacked KFC version)

a cold brew

This is the week. Everything breaks. Everything is on a tight timeframe. This is the week in which everyone you know wants something. They all want something minor, but all 600 of them do. And that's fine, because you are made of better stuff and you can field those line drives right up the middle. Flexible. You can take it. Everything manages to get done no matter what happens.

What you can't take is slipping on the commitment you made to yourself to ensure that EACH dinner would be unique and would carry the iconic flavor that made you think of having it in the first place. That within one 24 period, leftovers would either go in the gullet or the freezer. OK, so you ate the same thing three times in a row. Who cares? Well, its a slippery slope, and pretty soon you find yourself gagging down a hot pocket, wondering why you've ripped out the ass of another pair of jeans and running at top speed to be late for another pointless, joyless meeting. Fast food isn't faster, it just makes you able to fit in more of the stressful things that food should deliver you from.

So knock it off. Prepare each meal as if it were a well-paying client that you owed your attention to. Then eat it as if your well-being depended on it.

Wednesday

Lunch:

Pulled Pork Sandwich on sourdough

Dinner:

Red sauce on Linguine

Edamame (shelled and steamed)

Sourdough

Its remarkable just how little time there is. Writing, for instance, seems like a tremendous waste of time, except for the fact that it performs the dubious function of wasting someone else's time as well. But then again, if the things we type stick around longer than we do, then in a sense we are a tremendous waste of our writing's time. You should have read this hours ago. I should have written it days ago.

Will this semester never end?

Tuesday

Lunch:

sourdough bread butt and a little leftover red sauce

whole wheat crackers and cheddar

2 clementines

Dinner:

Country-style ribs (crockpot, then roasted with my BBQ sauce)

Fresh sourdough

Today FINALLY enough time to go get basil for the herb garden and to pick up some new thyme and other herbs that didn't make it through the collapsed garden during the ice storm. I'll be doing several of the usual basil varieties, but also a ton of lemon thyme, which I discovered and come to love last year. I may forego the oregano, since mine is running rampant in a few areas of my yard already. I was hoping the cilantro would come back from seed last year, which ended up EVERYWHERE. But apparently not. And strawberries, elusive strawberries. Maybe I will get some this year. Who am I kidding?

Monday

Lunch:

Fried Egg Sandwich with Cheddar

Dinner:

Red Sauce on Linguine

Thinly sliced and seared pork rib meat medallions with paprika

English peas

sourdough

Today I ran out of salt. This is something that has never happened to me. Salt is so fundamentally important. It defines nearly everything I create to eat. I don't care how good a painting is. Don't use a frame and you're looking at wrinkled blankets. Salt holds every other flavor together like grommet holes for support cables. And thus you can imagine the absolute shock and astonishment, then almost Poe-level despair and terror I faced. Not to mention the significant risk of goiter.

So I went and got more.

Sunday

Lunch:

Oatmeal with Raspberry Peach Jam

1 clementine

Dinner:

Red Sauce on Linguine

Edamame, steamed in the shell

Sourdough bread

Two days. That's all it takes. Your life completely changes, refocuses, hones in on something unexpected but welcome. Its as if you are looking through a telescope at the moon and you turn it slightly and refocus on Venus. An inch away in respect to you, and millions of miles away in respect to each other. Why two days? Well, one day would be cataclysmic. And I'm not talking about a life change that is brutal. No, I'm talking about a two day life change, in which the possibilities flash before your eyes, albeit in slow motion. You throw up your hands and give up. You let the rudder go. And are surprised when at the end of 48 hours, the pier manifests out of the mist right next to the boat and you disembark to find a hearty breakfast awaiting just ashore.

Saturday

Lunch:

Oatmeal with Raspberry Peach Jam

slice of fresh sourdough

Dinner:

My Pizza Pie (shallots, onions, green pepper, olives, porto bella)

chocolate pots du creme (courtesy of Gibbet Hill)

Damn fine company

Somedays you think you're going to be doing heavy academic thought work, and others you just know you're in for manual labor. Somedays, you think you're in for one when you're really in for the other. Which makes the work easier and the company you keep while doing it more pleasant. With the exception of mosquitoes. I'm not sure how they were already out, but apparently watching someone else work makes them hungry. Hey, everybody's gotta eat. There's an old chinese story that humans were only allowed to live by all the other animals because mosquitoes talked them into it. There is a hidden value in being delicious. Just ask any dairy cow or ear of corn.

Friday

Lunch:

French-style Omelet with cheddar and parmesan

fresh sourdough bread

Dinner:

Duck Duck Goose (EVOO in Somerville):

Duck confit, a little smidgeon of foie gras (upstate duck) and goose breast sliced thin

a surprising appetizer of beef tongue on a few pickle slices and a crispy potato croquet

Some beat up looking bread

Sometimes you have to restore your soul. At times like that, I crave a rare flavor. By rare I don't mean in the sense of, you can't find it on store shelves. I mean rare in the sense that you don't have it that frequently. I've said elsewhere that I've thought about why I want certain foods at certain times, truffles for instance, or foie gras. I know that I need the right situation to crave a particular food. Sure, I could prepare foie gras at home, but I find it is best savored at a nice clean restaurant, brought to one on a platter accompanied by either the head of Ronald McDonald or, failing that, the dish being served to a dining companion.

Thursday

Lunch:

Egg and cheddar sandwich on sourdough

Dinner:

pan fried Chuck steak

wine and cream sauce on a baked potato

at least a half pound of steamed edamame

big chunk of the bread butt of a sourdough

Some days, its all about prep cook. And though its something you love to do, sometimes you are occupied and so you do it robotically, not stopping to taste and smell the way you do when you are giving it your undivided attention. And given full pretenses, we assume that not paying full attention to detail will render the results mediocre or at the least uninspired. But we are pleased to find that the onions are just as sweet yet pungent. The bread dough is just as fresh yet tart and acidic. The egg flips just as perfectly in the skillet as if I had been focusing on it like a laser.

Wednesday

Lunch:

Last of the Spare Ribs

Cole Slaw

Sourdough bread

Dinner:

nuthin

two pints of Newcastle on tap

I hate a day when I finish, not having eaten anything of interest, or even just not having eaten anything. I have no problem fasting, but I like to plan that out. We shall see if I don't just make up for that lack of dinner on the weekend. I smell foie gras in my future. On another note, I just located a outlet for local grass-fed beef. This warrants much investigation. And I intend to give it the attention it deserves.

Tuesday

Lunch:

Barbeque Spare Ribs with sweet hot sauce reduction

More cole slaw

Sourdough bread

Dinner:

Barbeque Spare Ribs with sweet hot sauce reduction

More and more cole slaw

Sourdough bread

Running and gunning, meeting and bleating, fishing and wishing, cutting and gutting, driving and jiving and wiping the barbeque sauce off my chin. Time is moving slowly and whizzing by uncontrollably. It will be 80 this weekend, and the end is in sight. Put the pedal to the metal and leave the unsolicited debt behind. Word up...

Monday

Lunch:

Ham and Cheddar on fresh Sourdough

1 clementine

Dinner:

Crock Pot BBQ'ed Pork Ribs (spare and country-style)

My KFC-hack Cole Slaw

purple hull peas

1 buttermilk biscuit

Today's sandwich was the last of the ham, excepting what went into the freezer. I've been editing all day, but the back of my brain has been thinking all day about why I eat what I eat when I eat it. Why I choose to go to a nice restaurant, why I crave fish sometimes, whether my body is leading me by the taste buds or vice versa. Well, if you think I arrived at a solution to that question, let's just say that I made peace with it and left it at that.

Sunday

Lunch:

Split Pea and Ham soup

Ham and Cheddar on Sourdough

Dinner:

Fresh Buttermilk Biscuits

Purple Hull Peas

Ham Steak

Its kind of shocking that after seven days of eating it at almost every meal, I have still not gotten tired of that Easter ham. It was just too good. Tomorrow's lunch will the be last of it for a while; the rest has gone into the deep freeze to be resurrected sometime in the summer. After days and days of ham, I am getting the taste for some fish. Perhaps there will be a bit of whitefish in the days to come. Perhaps even a catfish, clothed in cornmeal and nestled with hush puppies...

Saturday

Lunch:

Ham and Cheddar on Sourdough

Split Pea Soup

Dinner:

Several $8 beers

1 large bag of peanuts

A very lean day, in which over the whole week, including the balance of the over-indulgence last weekend, I probably broke even. I was briefly tempted by a ballpark frank, and probably would have enjoyed it along with the beer and the crisp, clear air and the very good game, but I'm glad I didn't go down that path. It wouldn't have matched my expectations from the cheap but huge ballpark dogs from years past, and it would have been a sad letdown from what I could see. I've got to figure a way to schlept in a hibachi and my own fixins. Hey, if you're going to get arrested at Fenway, it should be for eating well and not for doing the quarter mile across perfectly manicured grass while being chased by overweight security guards...

Friday

Lunch:

Pea Liquor and Rice

Ciabatta

1 clementine

Dinner:

Fresh Cornbread Dressing

Hamsteak

Ciabatta

1 cold brew

When the weather is as nice as it was today, you wonder why life isn't more portable. If I could have taken my tower, output card and monitor outside, I would have been a much happier camper. But I did make a nice jaunt out to the beloved Blood Farm for Pork Ribs, Goat and Lamb. Joked with some old gentlemen about the offal they were trying to weasel out of the nice lady (some parts aren't legal to process, even if its your own beast you're having someone else process). A nice drive, with some perfect music and the gentle kiss of sunshine cutting through a slightly chilly wind. Perfect. At least I had that...

Thursday

Lunch:

Split Pea and Ham soup

arborio rice

ciabatta

Dinner:

Pea Liquor and Rice (with bits of bacon and peas)

ciabatta

cheddar and crackers

Rushed around like a madman yesterday trying to get things done before the weekend and also in time to get to Boston to get to an opening by the talented friends to turn around to get home to take care of a client and a friend on the west coast (who gets no sympathy while my bird bath is still a block of ice every morning). Finished the day, passed out in the bed with a giant coon on my stomach, snoring like a big old baby.

Wednesday

Lunch:

Leftover Hamsteak

cornbread dressing

purple hull peas

ciabatta

Dinner:

Fresh split pea and ham soup

white rice

ciabatta

The 6 lbs of left over ham as been cut and portioned for the freezer, half the remaining carcass bits went into the split pea and ham soup along with a generous amount of cubed ham bits, with the big-ass hambone going into the freezer for a mid-summer soup. Almost all the leftovers are gone and for the first time in almost a week, my refrigerator is not filled with stuff to feed a crowd. It looks a little forlorn really, and you begin to understand the white despair of Bergman. Or you think you do. Or you think that you think you do. Which is ultimately pointless.

Tuesday

Lunch:

Hamsteak and cheddar on the last of the sour rolls

1 Fuji apple

1 clementine

Dinner:

Leftovers (still!)

Hamsteak slices

last of the potatoes and gravy

cornbread dressing

purple hull peas

fresh ciabatta

There's still a ton of ham, which will be cut up and frozen for devouring over the summer and in soups. There's also an ungodly amount of cornbread dressing, though I don't mind because I could eat that everyday and not complain; the peas are also in that category. There are also a small serving of banana pudding and a couple of brownies left that I am treating myself to for good behavior in getting some unpleasant work done. I do love the holiday meal leftovers...

Monday

Lunch:

Sour dinner rolls heated and wrapped around thick chunks of ham and cheddar

1 Fuji Apple

1 clementine

Dinner:

Thick Hamsteaks

Mashed Potatoes

Cornbread Dressing with chicken gravy

Fresh Ciabatta

Banana Pudding (the last of it)

My gut, heart and mind are still living the great afternoon yesterday. Its rare that such a day works out so well. And there is about 10 lbs of ham left to go. Big chunks of ham roasts will get wrapped and quick frozen in the deep freeze to be called into action all summer. And then, of course, there's the bone! That hog will not be wasted in any way. Oh glorious cochon, wouldst that thou had 16 legs, and each so wrapped in richness and smoke...

Sunday

Lunch:

Nibbling little bits from the stuff for Easter dinner

Dinner:

Blood Farm Ham with a cranberry glaze

Cornbread Dressing with Chicken Gravy

Purple Hull Peas

Mashed Taters with Buttermilk

Bacoroni and Cheese

Jeff's Sour Dinner Rolls

Christie's Awesome Brownies

Banana pudding custard

I have eaten too much sitting around a table with people I have great affinity with. There is nothing better in this whole world. To finish the day sipping a good strong bold wine and slowly digesting a whole days cooking and ruminating the many things said across a table. If there be a God, it be one who devised all human endeavor towards such an end result.

Bless us all, and bless that hog that gave his leg for us!

Saturday

Lunch:

French-style omelet with bacon and cheese

1 clementine

Dinner:

Grilled three cheese sandwich on sourdough

Ramen with vegetables cooked in fresh homemade chicken broth

little bites of dressing and custard

I was shocked that the grocery stores were empty this afternoon. Given that it was a Saturday and the day before a holiday, I would have expected a crowd. But the aisles were clear, the shelves well-stocked and the personnel cheerful and diligent in their labor. And at the end of aisle 8, I could have sworn I heard an angel sing!

Friday

Lunch:

Hoppin John and Sourdough

1 clementine

Dinner:

2 Giant Pork Rib Roast Chops (at least 1 1/2" thick, Tuscan Grill)

Crispy fried polenta

tortured broccolini

Picked up the ham today, and loaded up on slab bacon. My car smells like a smoke house. I will avoid opening or closing the windows and doors as much as possible for a week. Oh heck, I'll just run the ham rind into the cushions...

Thursday

Lunch:

2 Clementines (too crazy busy to stop)

Dinner:

(somewhat overcooked) Baked Halibut in a citrus reduction

Baked Potatoes

some Wellfleet Oysters

I simply do not get why so many restaurants over-cook their fish. Its either sloppiness (most likely) or fear that the fish isn't fresh enough to stand up to not having its juice crushed out by heat. Every time I have overcooked fish it reminds me how lucky I am to have SS Lobstah around the corner...

Wednesday

Lunch:

Last slice of Chicken Pot Pie

Dinner:

Half of the previous night's Roast Cornish Hen

Purple hull peas and rice with chicken gravy

Sourdough Bread

Went skillet spelunking with my pal Christie in a bunch of second-hand stores this afternoon. Paid too much for a really nice (correctly seasoned!) 10" skillet and almost nothing for a little ashtray skillet that needs some serious love. Also found a TRaSh-80 and a trombone, but resisted the temptation; may have to return for those if life doesn't improve drastically in the next few days.

Tuesday

Lunch:

Leftover Chicken Pot Pie and Fresh Sourdough Bread

2 Clementines

Dinner:

Roast Cornish Hen with onion and cherry tomatoes

Edamame and Fresh Sourdough Bread

ETA of the Blood Farm Easter Ham is Friday 3:30 PM. Countdown underway...

Monday

Lunch:

Leftover Chicken Noodle Soup and Sourdough Bread

2 Clementines

Dinner:

Chicken Pot Pie and Fresh Sourdough Bread

This was an outstanding pot pie, the sort that is rich and creamy and in which the chicken flavor is so strong that its like being smacked up side the head with a 5 lb. broiler.

Sunday

Lunch:

Ramen noodles cooked with fresh vegetables and two slices of sourdough bread

Dinner:

Four-cheese Sourdough Grilled Cheese Sandwich and Fresh Chicken Noodle Soup

Lately all I can think about is oysters on the half. I will need to do something about that, and soon, Jack.

Saturday

Lunch:

Home Pizza with goat cheese, mushrooms, squash, shallots, bell pepper and onion

Mesclun Salad with cherry tomatoes, cucumber and fresh balsamic vinaigrette

Dinner:

Linguine with a fiery red sauce and fresh sourdough

Mesclun Salad with cherry tomatoes, cucumber, and fresh balsamic vinaigrette

return of the clean refrigerator

For the two people in the world who followed my navel-gazing blog featuring every meal I ingested, I have now created a new one, for reasons I won't go into. But its back, and the rules are the same. If I ate it at as a meal, you're going to hear about it here. I'd encourage every reader to do the same. You'll either become disgusted and change your foraging ways, or you'll be pleased and refine them further. And again, just because I love saying it, DOWN WITH PROCESSED FOOD!