Food- and reading-wise, I've been enjoying a time-warp. Andy's bedside table yielded a wonderful paperback, Among Friends, by M.F.K. Fisher, one of the best food writers to have spiced up our world. This, her autobiography (though with a food writer, isn't it all a bit autobiographical?), tells about her family's move to the very Quaker ("Friends") community of Whittier, CA., in the teens of last century. Know that the word "Friends" in the title is ironic. Reading about harvesting mussels before pollution ... steamed in fresh seaweed on hot coals at their beach shack's cliffs in Laguna Beach ... well, even as a native Californian I was made nostalgic for a past impossible to experience now.
Just before devouring that book, I'd decided to purge our library to make room for my yoga teaching books. Osteo-arthritis in my right hip, probably brought on by too many extreme yoga poses (leg wrapped behind the head, anyone?), has called an end to my yoga teaching practice. Sigh. Did I mention I loved teaching yoga? Happily, Hatha Yoga, the physical practice, is only a fraction of what it means to practice yoga. I will always live by the second verse of the Yoga Sutras, "Yoga is what happens when we stop identifying with the fluctuations of the mind."
|Title page, Paris Cuisine, 1952.|
|Parisian wholesale food market, Les Halles, aka The Belly of Paris, c. 1920.|
|Front end papers, Paris Cuisine, 1952.|
|An example of mid-century USA Ware: probably an orphan from a chip and dip set.|
Thursday, I decided to cook out of the Beard/Watt Paris Cuisine.
|Gratin Savoyard, from Paris Cusine.|
Happy Spring to all, even as I get the last of my Winter Ya Ya's out cooking such a heavy dish. At least there's Uncle Frank's Coleslaw to provide a bit of vegetable counterpart. Yum.