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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.
Nana, I say this with love: I hate you. You and your fresh fruit, too.
ReplyDeleteLove Raspberries. Made a chocolate Pot-de-Creme with Raspberry coulee (sp). Mmmmm.
ReplyDeletemmmmmmmm
ReplyDeleteHate me,not the fresh fruit.They are innocents in this
ReplyDeleteHmm, I'll consider that. I'll definitely give that some serious consideration. However, if indeed those raspberries do become a tart, I may have to hate that too. lol.
ReplyDeleteHave to head back to the studio, where I'll inevitably be thinking of those yummy raspberries. Okay, NOW I hate you! Hopefully the store isn't closed by the time I close for the night.
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ReplyDeleteEnough of this 'hate'... don't y'all just LOVE raspberries??? ;=)
ReplyDeleteBTW, me thinks that photo would make a nice background-image for you PC-screen.
BV
Bob, thats exactly what I've used it for. It makes me happy every time I look at it
ReplyDelete