When your cooking mojo returns –
when it returns it will be sometime near midnight,
on a Thursday,
there will be vegetables that were picked by someone you know,
just a few days earlier.
They are leftover from a dinner, where you were reminded that you feed people.
And at nearly midnight, on the day before Friday, you will have to make ratatouille.
Because it’s been six months that you’ve let other people feed you,
and it’s time that you start getting acquainted with your kitchen.
Remind yourself, how well you can move in this space,
how you yield utensils and knives
with grace some people reserve for dancing.
When you sit down to eat, you will not
be the kind of full of you were hoping for.
But, you won’t be nearly as hungry.
A bit ago I came up with this list —
But then, when actual midnight rolled around, I had none – NONE of those things on hand. But I did have what I needed to make these.
What are those? Those delicious, toasty, things are just a few ingredients, thrown together, smooshed on top of cheap grocery store bread, and broiled for a few minutes. And look, if you have any – I repeat, any- squeamishness about calories, or fat content or you know, mayonnaise do not look at the recipe. If instead, you indulge your gluttonous side from time to time, and want to know the secret of the best midnight snack ever — by all means — click-through.
Ghost in my kitchen tonight. Off to the side, near the dining room table. Ghosts in my kitchen while I bake for the fair tomorrow, while I whip up something blue ribbon worthy. Ghosts, telling stories to me, to each other. Read the rest of this entry
“Normal things make you feel normal,” my Mom said that to me in the middle of a panic attack one night. I was in Boston, she was home. We were connected through a hundred miles by a phone line. ” ‘Normal things make you feel normal’, Gram said that to me once in the middle of the only panic attack I think I ever had”.
Dinner. Pull out all the stuff, work like the French chefs do. Mise en place. Everything in its place. Pretend that everything isn’t out-of-place. Read the rest of this entry
Making cake that is
Pink, for my Gram, who will be
Eighty-six years young.