This is some local NE chevre with some herbes de provence and peppercorns, a slice of homemade wheatberry bread, a mason jar with Spanish olive oil and the core of a locally grown green pepper.
hi, lunch.
These are some cookies I made for Purim, the Jewish traditional holiday where the Biblical heroine Esther is celebrated with exchanges of good fortune in the form of cookies and other foodstuffs. This sounds like my ideal holiday: the celebration of a righteously diplomatic, kind and principled woman and food (specifically cookies, my kryptonite).
Yes.
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Sometimes I pride myself on being a little bit of a foodsnob, and other times I am more humble because I occasionally want a bowl of cheerios at midnight (albeit they are usually the artisan local variety adrift in locally sourced soy milk). And sometimes (usually at the end of the month), I feel a slight sense of remorse at the goodness a new paycheque has brought me in the form of ingredients and fixins. This article helped me gain a little bit of perspective and guidance, although the author's focus was on food associated with hanging out with other 14 year olds and my problem is focused on food associated with afternoon walks in suburbs of Paris, mistakenly delicious alleyways in Brugges, and markets in London. That's not even to mention the cafes in New York or even The Garden.
Like I said: I'm a snob.
The same basic principle applies in the long run I guess:
Be more humble.
Be more humble.
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CONSTANTLY:
Nourish each other.
Subvert the system that is feeding you garbage.
Fill with love.
(that was to be read as a command)
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