Archive for May, 2008


Sorry, no pics today… just musings.

All the recent press coverage and blog posts about the rising cost of food, starvation, and the evils of GMO have had me thinking about food more than ever. I love food. I love everything about it except those 5 pounds I gained last month. ( Why do I always gain weight when I’m happy? Someone please tell me..) So I’ve been eating, cooking, and reading about cooking a lot. And I have to say thank you God for this simple pleasure of the senses. Again I digress.

All this time spent almost obsessed with the subject I have come to realise I love sharing a meal with people weither it’s a tuna sandwich in front of the tv on a Monday night or a celebration feast with all the trimmings and wine and so forth.

Tonight I was able to share a meal with some I knew, someone I was getting to know, and some complete strangers and it was wonderful.

Of course the entire episode was preluded with a rousing game of beer pong. But that’s for another day. Shopping for the food was fun. Prepairing the food was fun. And the best part of the evening was when I looked around the table at all the smiling faces, watching the glow that comes from satisfaction, and realizing that not only was every’s plate completely clean….Every last spear of aspargus… every roasted baby dutch potato… every piece of garlic bread.. and every slice of chicken saltimbucca, they were full. It was like magic.

I don’t know what the future holds for this kid and I can honestly say I’m not too worried. But I do hope. I hope I will be able to share my love of cooking with those I love. I hope I can continue to grow in my love of well prepaired food and help those around me to take a little more joy from this simple task of sustaining the body. And I hope to share in many more meals like the one I shared tonight.


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Apricots from Schnepf FarmsI didn’t know it when I was little but my grandmother and grandfather used to have a farm and garden in Indiana.  They raised chickens and grew most of their own food.   ( Later my mother would tell me of the summer she spent breaking the necks of the chickens they raised and boiling them to remove the feathers.  Or my Uncle’s method of chopping the heads off.. I’ve been told they really do run around for a little while after the event.  But I digress.)

When they moved to Mesa, Arizona they had to abandon the practice to a certain extent because of the harsh climate of the valley.  But they had two small, perfect little apricot trees growing in the backyard until I was twelve.  I became aware of them at about age 6.  Most of the year they were bare and the limbs too thin and weak to climb.  For climbing I preferred the grapefruit tree which is also now gone.  Then in the spring would come the leaves…. and then the blossoms.  And finally the fruit.  My grandfather was gentle but stern in his warnings to wait until they were ripe to eat them.  Can you imagine being a small child looking at the tiny little fragrant globes of orange and being told to wait?? 

So I would on the swing-set and think of other things until the day arrived when he would take me out into the backyard and fill my little awaiting hands with the plump, juicy fruit.  I was a messy child to begin with.  But I was an absolute sticky midget after I ate apricot after apricot standing in front of the trees… the juice dripping from my mouth onto my chin and then shirt.

This would go on for a few weeks until we’d either eaten them all or the neighboring birds had.  How I hated the birds those few weeks.  And then I would forget all about them until the next spring.  As I got older and began to shop for myself I would look forward to apricot season in the stores.. I didn’t know anyone with a tree anymore.  But they would always disappoint. 

This year I have been satiated.  For Mother’s Day my family took my mother to Schnepf Farms, in Queen Creek and we picked peaches and apricots in the hot sunshine.  I was a little sad at first because all of the tree ripened fruit had been picked.  But we took a chance and grabbed a little box of the hard fruits to take home to ripen.  And ripen they have.  The smell coming from the box is intoxicating, and brought back the memory of those two lone fruit trees rustling in the occasional breeze.  And of the old cliche… Good things come to those who wait.


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