About Me
- un petit morceau
- Corrales, New Mexico, United States
- My mother grew up in Paris, one of 11 children, and had memories of bomb shelters and only flour and water to eat, as well as raucous family meals.[What else could they have been with 11 children?]When she landed in America as a young girl, she paid her way by assisting the dietitian with all the meals at her Ann Arbor, Michigan school.So family tradition,hunger and a decidedly forward thinking school cook all led to food and dinner time being somewhat of an obsession.My mother would always prepare a 2 and sometimes 3 course meal for us.Working beside Mama in the kitchen was a cloth woven with long periods of comfortable silences,confessions,laughing and the intricate ballet required when you have more than one person in a New York City apartment kitchen.What I write here has so much to do with this woman who would literally swoon eating a marron glace. Appreciation, gratitude and wonder.She had those and I hope to share some with you.
Nice picture, though I'd have to look up the second word. I'm still in disbelief that you are able to A. Blog, and B. work your blog, when I'm still trying to figure how the heck to get mine working. Finally managed to actually blog,at least.
ReplyDeleteAlso I'm slightly jealous that there are things growing where you are. It's still cold enough to snow here.
I miss my Fig! Tried to grow some from cuttings, and they didn't survive the winter here. Vancouver had milder winters.
ReplyDeleteLast year the figs were tiny,and that gave me the excuse to eat them off the tree every time I passed.Sun warmed figs are one of those things that forces you to stop and focus on it.
ReplyDeleteShould we be expecting some lovely fig cookies at the Vegas convention in August??? *wink* *smooch*
ReplyDeleteI'm afraid I did it again. I ate all the figs off the tree. No fig desserts.
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