Out Like a Lamb.

The end of March is nigh, and thus is Easter. Passover is happening right now. It's a big time for a lot of people. And plants. Plants are having a blast right now. And people are having a blast with plants. Or, at least, Fred and I are.

In Like a Lion...

Today is the first day of Spring. I love Spring. Who doesn't? What's not to love about Spring? But, in all honesty, if you stuck an ice pick at my temple and forced me to pick my favorite season, I'd have to come clean and say that Spring is not my absolute favorite season of all the glorious seasons. But I do love it.

A Picnic in Bed

Last weekend Fred and I camped out at home. We planned our 'getaway' carefully, and made sure we had a plentitude of rations (of every imaginable sort) to ensure there would be absolutely no reason to get into a car at any point between day's end on Friday and first light on Monday. And, I dare say, mission accomplished with flying, colorful colors.

Building a Fort

There has been a lot of stuff going on in the world of Fred and me. We are great, don't you worry. But the world around us has been a bit, shall we say, dicey. We have both been moving very fast, doing a lot of things, a lot of busy. Yet we have been ships in the night, hardly had a moment to really spend quality time with one another. In our house, the books and magazines have been piling up to resemble colorful totem poles, the garden is more like a graveyard, and as of last Friday, you could hear an echo in our refrigerator.

Comfort Me With Bucatini.

Growing up in Richmond, I recall very little pasta happening in either of my parents' kitchens, except maybe pasta salad. I also don't remember going out for much Italian food back then. I'm sure there was spaghetti and meatballs when I had dinner at my friends' houses, but – and I could be wrong – I don't think I ever saw it on my dining room table(s). That's weird, right? I mean, I don't even think we did lasagna, for crying out loud. It's a miracle I turned out alright.

An inspirational GIVEAWAY!

This is a first here at F for Food, but that last post inspired me to do it. 

Recently, as I glanced across my vast cookbook collection, at all of the words and images that inspire me daily in the kitchen, I thought I might just pass some of that inspiration along to you. I recently attended an event in which Michael Psilakis did a cooking demonstration. While he showed us how to make Greek sliders, he spoke of his inspiration, his father, who always encouraged him to follow what he loved. Much like Chef Psilakis, I have been lucky enough to have two parents that have always fostered my creativity. No matter what. 

Inspirato.

Yes, we have all heard that imitation is the sincerest form of flattery. And, on a base level and on the high-road level, I suppose it is. But, there is a fine line between imitation and inspiration.  Imitation versus inspiration is a perennial discussion in the art world and other worlds as well.  And, it is such valid dialogue.

Coming Clean

While I was certainly no angel as a child, next to my childhood friend, Ben, I was definitely perceived as one. But he was a little boy and I was merely a little tomboy. Ben got into far more trouble than I ever did; invariably he would get caught.  I would often get caught but, clearly, far less.  Most of the Ben stories I have heard have come from our parents and these stories are based on incidents that took place circa the mid-1980's. 

Rainy Clouds

It all started in the second grade at John B. Cary Elementary School. Our class put on a school play. It was a production of Close Encounters of The Food Kind. Spencer was the Swiss cheese, Kelly was the Riboflavin, Laura was the fish, and me, I was the alien visitor narrator. I'll never forget my closing lines, “So, remember folks, when you want a snack that's nutritious and dandy, have a carrot instead of candy. Vegetables, fruit, bread and meat; these are the healthy things to eat. It's time to go, and now you know about the good things that make you grow.”

Frenetic versus Tranquil...

Things have completely settled down from the holiday-ness of the holidays and with the work rush that also comes with the holidays. Mom has arrived safe and sound back in Richmond, and is getting herself all settled there. I’ve been waiting for this. At least I’ve said that I have been waiting for this. But it’s so quiet. It’s so calm. It’s so rarely so, that I always forget that I’m not all that great with calm and quiet. I’m not a very still person. Frenetic might be a better word to describe me. I generally like to keep moving and doing. I always have lists and projects. I’m lost without them.