I rarely comment on her posts but this one was so admirable and meaningful to me that I told her she was my hero. She wrote back, “I’m jonesing for lemon meringue pie!”
As we enter our third week of confinement, I have to be honest and tell you we’re pretty sick of one another in this house. And so we had a virtual dinner party.
Food is the one elementary need we all have, feeding a comfort we can share, especially in troubled times. I finally remembered this and slapped myself out of isolation funk. Then I pulled a large bag of bones from the freezer to make beef stock.
It’s not hyperbolic to say the world shifted a little in having to contemplate the possibility that a recipe core to my identity, that was passed from one woman’s hand to another and then another could not be the total of its sum.
Mom heard what went into a dish and immediately knew not only how to cook it but how it should taste, a talent she expected everyone to have and was appalled when she found otherwise.
About that recipe I gave yesterday–that so sucked!
Unlike nearly everyone else in the food world, I’m not an expert cook, an investigative journalist, an intriguing theorists, an anthropologist or historian.
I’m going to take a very educated guess and say you may be a little anxious if not distressed right now. Here to the rescue is Recipe Monday! High Anxiety Chocolate Mousse Pie
Whether the Founding Fathers dined at a tavern or home during the Constitutional Convention, their meals were cooked by our Founding Women. For more than a handful, if the men headed home, slaves were in the kitchen, as well. recipe-monday!-what-the-founding-wives-and-slaves-cooked-for-the-founding-fathers
I meant to post a piece today about Tom and me going out on another droning expedition. The plan release would coincide with your roll out of bed and commencing of your daily scroll.The reason this didn’t happen is because of my two persistent pitfalls in getting this blog thing exploding happily along.