As Garrison Keillor said once, “February is the month that God created to show people who don’t drink what a hangover feels like.”
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I’ve always had a passion for teaching - whenever I learned a new fact or skill, my instinctual “second step” is to share that with someone else. Loudly and imperatively.
I was a super annoying little kid.
Ask anyone.
In which i panic because all of my seeds haven’t been started yet, and muse over past catastrophes of overambitious seed-starting.
Read More![PASTA A MANO [Pasta by Hand] - Cooking Class Kickoff!](https://images.squarespace-cdn.com/content/v1/5eb5ffe85030f8339f4345ba/1610046763697-7P3MJHYRVXNVQVRL91PK/E8A08419-C209-41AB-BC7E-C7321B1BBC11.JPG)
Kicking off a new series of cooking classes focused in my favorite culinary passion: PASTA!
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With the expectation of a rush of new gardeners’ fervor this season, I got a jump on seed-ordering, relying on some trusted suppliers and a lot of daydreaming. Yes, I ordered way too much. It’s a thing we do.
Now, the planning sessions begin.
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I just baked the best cookies I may have ever made - they were a bit of an experiment, but in this case, they’re the Penicillin of holiday baking.
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It was a struggle, at first, not to fall into a depression when burdened with all the “can’t” and “won’t” that’s become the theme of this year. But I was able to reach a place of stability via my grandma’s christmas cookies.
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Every year my mom and I wander into the woods around this time and bind our wreaths for winter.
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The first flakes of snow are falling in non-committal zig-zags, and my thumb-pad is chapped from rubbing tiny mouse-tooth lettuce seeds from their fluff.
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There is a moment in the June garden that needs to be exalted to an appropriate level.
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I love raspberries.
My dog did too. She’d accompany me on a picking-adventure, and learned quickly to skip her own hunt and instead watch my hand reaching for the most-ripe berries.
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It’s finally warm out!
The timer starts to the first zucchini blossoms…the first chiles…and that first luminous tomato, just waiting for the kitchen…
My critique here is that because the cheap, ubiquitous stuff is everywhere, it becomes associated with something much larger than style…the archetype becomes the thing.
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Strawberries require *just enough* work to make the reward worth it. They’re absolute easy successes, but not by reflex. By care. And then, when you return to the kitchen with a colander full of glowing summer carbuncles, you know your work paid off.
After all; nobody would care about finding the Holy Grail if it was just sitting on the coffee table.
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