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...
Thursday, September 3, 2009
Wednesday, September 2, 2009
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.
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.
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