The idea of writing loses its appeal to me when it is 1 am in the morning and not only have I just finished worked, but i have had to fight with all public transportation options to get home. Something that used to be so sensual, so exciting, and so stimulating, just seems like a chore. But then, like showing up to my job, the amount of angst and protest I’ve put up along the way slowly fades when I hear the ticking of my key pad and I see my words, in front of my eyes, on the screen, (and to continue on with the work analogy, the rhythmic pace of being in service, most of the times relaxes my worried heart).
So here we are folks- after nine something hours in a kitchen, I am sitting at my kitchen counter, drinking a blue moon. This is my daily (nightly, morningly…!!?) routine. And what do I have to say about food folks? The same mantras almost always do: enjoy, revel in its simplicity, take advantage of the fact that you have a medium in front of you that can bind so many different people together, transcend so many different cultures.
Today I go for the revel in its simplicity.
I was at my sister’s house two nights ago- a break was needed from the city and my life. She has a killer garden, and the last of her jersey tomatoes (the best out there I might add) needed to be picked. So snatched they were…
…. and quickly enough they were turned into the base for one of our pizzas.
I don’t like to cook my tomato sauces for pizzas. If the pizza is going in the oven, it’s going to get enough heat there, or so I believe. What we did then was this: we hand crushed the tomatoes, then mixed them with salt, pepper, some tomato paste, olive oil and fresh basil.
With the summer winding down and fall staring me directly in the face, at least my taste buds could be convinced that I do not need to pull out my big old, made for Scottish weather, sweaters, yet.
