I've blocked my view of the snow by hiding in the office in the basement. The point is to try to think of sunnier days in the summer, when hard work and patience yields the abundance of fresh fruit and vegetables you've long waited for. I've looked back through some of the pictures of our backyard, tried to remember what it feels and tastes like to pluck a cherry tomato off the vine, and eat it still warm from the sun. Cucumbers, beans, peaches, berries...summer squash, corn, lettuce!!! Eating outside, watching the sun go down, but leaving its warmth on the patio stones and sidewalks for grateful bare feet. Late nights eating for hours, with good wine and better people. It's no secret that I love the summer.
I'm thinking warm today so I can get together a couple of menus, with the unfortunately lackluster produce available to us at the moment. How can you translate flavors of the ripe, heavy warm fruits of summer, into the pale, mealy poor excuses for tomatoes at the markets? I love winter cooking as much as the next person, but duty calls. I love making menu's and trying new things, and I would normally cruise the markets picking up things that inspire idea's and just get to work, making things up as I go along. But it has to be done, so while the snow blows around ruining everyone's commute and likely most of the city's restaurant traffic tonight, I will be here, taking notes and trying hard to remember what my garden smells like in the morning in July.
Today, in January, in the first snowstorm of the year, I'll have to be satisfied with taste memories and a notebook. But it's a great day for soup isn't it?
I'm thinking warm today so I can get together a couple of menus, with the unfortunately lackluster produce available to us at the moment. How can you translate flavors of the ripe, heavy warm fruits of summer, into the pale, mealy poor excuses for tomatoes at the markets? I love winter cooking as much as the next person, but duty calls. I love making menu's and trying new things, and I would normally cruise the markets picking up things that inspire idea's and just get to work, making things up as I go along. But it has to be done, so while the snow blows around ruining everyone's commute and likely most of the city's restaurant traffic tonight, I will be here, taking notes and trying hard to remember what my garden smells like in the morning in July.
Today, in January, in the first snowstorm of the year, I'll have to be satisfied with taste memories and a notebook. But it's a great day for soup isn't it?
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