tides of life

As I stir this soup, inspiration bubbles through the haze of the broth’s steamy whispers. I have been wondering when I’d meet you here again. Although it’s been some time for sure, the pause is all for good, I swear.

Life sometimes interrupts our best intentions of creative productivity. A single decision, seemingly slight at the time will shift everything into a new motion. Take this decision I made a little while back:

We’ve named her Piper because she is adorably vocal even at the most sleepy and inopportune times. 

Did we need another dog? Perhaps not. We thought that she’d spark new energy into Sage. There is, however, another reason for her joining our family — but, more on that in a few paragraphs. For now, let’s just say, this lil miss keeps the spare time occupied. 

Back to this soup…I have a friend visiting in thirty minutes. I am simmering this soup for us because the “toss everything in without care” method is how I play it these days in the kitchen with two dogs at my feet, murmuring for an answer as to why this pot is being readied before their own meals. I also know this soup is just the thing my friend and I will savor over thick conversation much needed after the time that’s been lost bewteen our visits. She is soon to move and we must take in another evening just like most weekly visits we’ve spent together over the past few years. All must be effortless. Couch bound. Hearty grub. Much laughter. Some tears on occasion. Always conversation that remains in mind and heart. And, sometimes, we must fill the cracks with junky television shows. A ladies night with a bff just the way it was meant to be.

This soup recipe was passed to me by Nils’s mum. I wrote about it, wowza, two years ago! And, you know what?! Two years to the date. How’s that for serendipity?! I really had no idea!

Motioning onward, follow that recipe for the original version. Tonight I made a few changes according to cravings:

1 can of potatoes, sliced (pour the can’s water into the pot too)
1 large bag of frozen chopped spinach
1 large bag of frozen sweet peas
2 boxes of organic vegetable broth

I also omitted:

chopped onions
red kidney beans
water
bouillon 

As I write this post, the Dutch oven is simmering all to the delight of my nostrils and to the curious annoyance of the dogs’ attentions. My friend is soon to arrive. Wait, here she is…I leave this writing aside while we catch up with glances and words and draws of winding sourdough bread grabs through the warm and filling soup. There are many changes on the horizon for us both so the television remains cold.

I suppose now is the moment to share what we’re abuzz about. This recipe is perhaps a fitting introduction to my other bit of news. As it is a family recipe being handed down to me from Nils’s mum, it’s so much more fitting than any other recipe I could have chosen. You see, I’m carrying her fifth grandchild-to-be. 

That’s right! We have a little one on the way and that’s is the main reason for my lack of attention to this space reserved for all things food and drink. Now that I’m just days shy of the halfway mark (and I’ve officially told my boss) I have found my way back here to you to share our amazing news. 

We are not finding out whether it’s a girl or boy. I like surprises. I also like planning a neutral nursery. And, I like surprises…

I also jumped at the opportunity to join Piper to our family as well since I grew up with a puppy and I’d love for our child to do the same. Our child. [Insert giddy grin]

So there you have it. All of my news. Since the moment I sat to write this post, there have been many interruptions. Two potty breaks for the pups (make that three). One pause for puppy play. A few stirs of the soup. A puppy nap. A visit with my friend. And, the baby’s bubbly moves. These familiar moments are those that pepper my life these days. The tides are turning in a new direction and as they always have in my life, they turn with force all at once, affecting most aspects with intense change. Seven years ago tides brought me to Cambridge. To my bartender. To my Sage. To Mattapoisett (on the weekends). Now, more movement is afoot and I must listen and follow. I will be here more frequently when I’m settled. Until then, I will listen when the muse calls without effort and share what I may with you.  

p.s. - While reading for edits, I got teary-eyed and not in the I cry at everything cuz I’m pregnant kinda way. I felt such emotion from being able to share this news with you. Putting these words and feelings and images out in this space just moves me. Sharing. Life. Wonderful. Thank you.

summer

Howdy, friends. I did not anticipate being away from this writing space for this long. Summer has a way of sneaking plans our way, doesn’t it?

I began the summer with the best of lazy day intentions.

Then poof!

just like that,

it’s nearing mid-July and all of my days and nights blur into those of working and those spent in rapid fun that seems to slip away much more quickly than my heart may grasp.

I have been traveling.

By boat.

By car.

Some destinations mere minutes away.

Others many hours from home. All somehow become an extension of home just because of the people I’m with.

All paths are well worn and captured through rounds of photos.

I have spent much needed time with family.

Discovered Lost…Thanks mum.

Caught up with the sea and our salty friends.

Wrote so many posts in mind, but the computer never was near. I’m beginning to believe that letting the wind whisk away those fleeting thoughts may not be such a bad thing.

I hope this bounty of photos does the trick. For now.

I promise to get back to the food soon. I have a hankering for something baked and blue, and have frozen some fresh berries that should do the trick as soon as I may sneak a quiet afternoon with myself and our oven.

Happy summah, friends. Do enjoy.

roasted reds, yellows, and oranges

Roasted tomatoes. Praise of these tender, wilted, sweet, tart, musky squashed orbs has been written by many of those writers and chefs I admire. As they’ve already approached this simple and sigh-worthy culinary treat with a bounty of tales to coax our hunger, I’ll approach the subject from a different perspective — their gemed appearance.

I was timid about deciding what to shoot for my final studio photography workshop. On one hand, I wanted to shoot something elaborate. A full table set with snippets of my vintage prop collection surrounding a bountiful meal. I wanted all of us to find a place at the table and relish the meal with our sights. It was so delightful and inviting in my mind’s eye. On the other, more practical hand, the Bruins were vying for the Stanley Cup (yay!) and parking spots near school we papered with signs of “No Parking - Event…” Walking a few blocks, solo, with all that table dressing and meal would include was too hefty a trial for me. Thus, reality shushed my fantasy - “Keep it simple,” she urged. Seemed a more approachable and less back straining course to follow.

As usual, I headed to a local market for inspiration and was greeted by a collection of yellow, orange, red and auburn tomatoes. Lovely and fresh I imagined they’d be another version of attractive when roasted. With whole garlic. In a vintage pie pan. I gathered the crop of props in mind and set out to roast the tomatoes in the morning before work. Keep their appearance fresh for the shoot that night.

If you set out to roast tomatoes, I suggest roasting them in the morning. The perky aromas have no savory match. Filling a home with garlic and piping olive oil first thing in the morning starts a day off just right. The recipe I followed was a riff on a few recipes I noted across the Web. As I only had 45 minutes before heading to work, I didn’t have the luxury of roasting them for three hours. That method I’ll save for a Sunday.

Although a minor feast for our eyes, think of all you could flavor with these roasted gems. Pepper atop a salad. Tuck into an omelet. Blend with hummus topped with a drizzle of olive oil and smidgen of flavored salt. Many options stem from their simplicity, and all will be beautified by their colorful personalities.