Cynthia D. Bertelsen's Gherkins & Tomatoes
A Writer's Musings on Nature and Culture, Since 2008
Last night, I stayed awake far longer than I normally do, reading Gayle Forman's new novel, Leave Me. The hook for me was "Every woman who has ever fantasized about driving past her exit on the highway instead of going home to make dinner, and every woman who has ever dreamed of boarding a train…
Continue reading ➞ Women and the Building of America: Reflections
Photography is pretty simple stuff. You just react to what you see, and take many, many pictures. ~Elliott Erwitt Truth be told, I love photography for many reasons, one being the sense of peace that comes with observing the world around me. Photography forces a photographer to be centered. To photograph means slowing down and…
Continue reading ➞ Food, Photography of
My little brother took his first breath on a cold day in February, when doctors still made house visits and new mothers still spent days in the hospital. And that was good, as far as I was concerned, for during those 4 or 5 days that my mother lay exhausted in the maternity ward, I…
Continue reading ➞ Tomato Sauce with Butter: Thinking About Marcella Hazan, My Nonna in Spirit
Want to make your own? Here's a recipe from Epicurious: Nutella and Banana Crêpes 4 servings Crepes: 1 cup all-purpose flour 1 tablespoon sugar 1/4 teaspoon salt 1 1/2 cups fat-free milk 2 large eggs, lightly beaten Cooking spraySauce: 1/4 cup hazelnut-chocolate spread (such as Nutella) 2 tablespoons fat-free milk 1/4 teaspoon vanilla extract 2 large…
Continue reading ➞ The Crêpe Makers of France
Like many of you, I dream about being in France. A lot. And, of course, I daydream about eating in Paris, in spite of naysayers who point their compasses at other, more culinarily au courant corners of the globe. I'm already making lists of culinary adventures in preparation for my grant-sponsoredjourney this fall, doing research…
For an introduction to the lives of wild snails, do take a look at this marvelous book by Elizabeth Tova Bailey: Note: Lewis Carroll wrote a poem, "A Whiting and a Snail," from whence comes the title of this post: ‘There is another shore, you know, upon the other side. The further off from England…
Continue reading ➞ Les Escargots: Come and Join the Dance
Lemons, their pitted, nay, prehistoric, skins secreting golden oil, Shielding sourness, evoking memories of a grandmother's kitchen, A grandfather's garden. Born in the East, fruitful India, A kiss of cold, albeit fleeting, spawns the yellow Immortalized in stone, paint, and clay. A fruit reverenced, Blossoming from mountain and lake, Urging cooks to slice, pierce, and…
Continue reading ➞ Lemons – Tiny Cathedrals of Gold
From the first gasping breath, when tiny hands claw at air, reaching futilely for an anchor, a rope, air feeds us. Even fish of seas and lakes and rivers seek that building block of air --- oxygen. Fire roars when coddled by oxygen and whimpers like a teat-deprived newborn lamb in its absence. Steam, the…
Continue reading ➞ Eating the Wild Air …
MAY YOU FEAST WELL AND HAPPILY THIS HOLIDAY SEASON...
[A photograph, and nothing more, for silent contemplation.]
[A photograph, and nothing more, for silent contemplation.]
[A photograph, and nothing more, for silent contemplation.]
[A photograph, and nothing more, for silent contemplation.]
[A photograph, and nothing more, for silent contemplation.]
[A photograph, and nothing more, for silent contemplation.]
[A photograph, and nothing more, for silent contemplation. See also "India Asks, Should Food be a Right for the Poor?"]
[A photograph, and nothing more, for silent contemplation.]
[A photograph, and nothing more, for silent contemplation.]
[A photograph, and nothing more, for silent contemplation.]
[A photograph, and nothing more, for silent contemplation.]
[A picture, and nothing more, for silent contemplation.]
[A picture, and nothing more for silent contemplation.]
[A photograph, and nothing more, for silent contemplation.]
[A photograph, and nothing more, for silent contemplation.]
[A photograph, and nothing more, for silent contemplation.]
