I like to wrap up the years on this blog by going through resolutions for the coming year and reflecting on ones that we're about to nail up in the coffin. I usually make a list of resolutions and try to hold myself publicly accountable because, well, someone god damn has to.
Jack knows a few simple tricks. Sit. Down. Take it. Leave it. Come. Drop it. I would love to get him to play dead. So let's add Teach Jack to Play Dead to the list of resolutions.
There are a lot of ideas and this market is a strange one. There's such a glut of amazing books and where the single subject market used to be pretty safe it's almost impossible to come up with an idea that doesn't have at least three direct competitors. Not just mac and cheese, but marshmallows, homemade sausages, cocktails, Peruvian food, gluten free brunches, so on and so forth.
My marriage was also made legal this year thanks to the Supreme Court declaring that making special laws that discriminate against gays for no other reason except some people find them icky isn't okay. It was a simple ceremony. We went to the County Clerk's office, did the paperwork, and had a saying of vows in a tiny beige room under a garland of plastic flowers. Afterwards we went to lunch with our witnesses.
It was probably the best wedding ever.
I'm quite overjoyed because now it means I'm legally bound to the person I love the most in the world, and that we can protect each other all the better.
Love My Husband Even More.
As for the exterior paint? Lord, our house has literally five different colors due to the previous owner not making a decision. It's like David Bromstad did a line of coke and went bonkers with the earth tone swatches all over the back wall here.
I don't rely have any big overarching plans for food. I've been too busy.
I'd like to find a bit more time to enjoy it. It feels like I've been more chained to food than being enamored by it. I've had some enlightening meals that have brought me to stunned silence and cooked a few dishes that silently murdered all the outside noise because they tasted so good.
However, when you work as a food writer sometime you can't help but feel a little incensed by food. It drives you to write and edit and test and taste and travel and work so you can get that measly little paycheck. It's a first world problem, like having a broken water heater or Nickleback putting out another album. Yeah, there is worse in the world but look at it this way: you don't want to resent the things you love.
Working with your passion requires not only walking a line, but making sure the line hasn't been repainted when you weren't looking.
I want to make food that reflects my style, taste, and way of life. No fancy seven layer cakes or home crafted beer. I want crostatas filled with leftover peaches. I want to make pate with the duck livers a friend gave me. I want to make vanilla shortbread cookies sandwiched with homemade kumquat marmalade. I want to grill ribs seasoned with chile pastes loaded with too much red garlic.
I don't want to make fancy blog food, book food, or restaurant food. I just want to make the food that makes me happy and if I can share it with you, well, all the better.
Celery Salad with Blue Cheese and Almonds
Serves 1, can be multiplied with ease.
I love this recipe. It's a riff on a British Christmas classic, but I had no hazelnuts to roast and used raw almonds instead. It's just as delightful. This salad is simple, affordable, flavorful and certainly unique. Wonderful with a bit of white wine or sparkling if you have some.
3 celery stalks given a run with a vegetable peeler to remove the strings
A good handful of almonds (slivered, chopped, or otherwise)
1/4 cup of crumbled blue cheese; use a good one
2 tablespoons of walnut oil
squeeze of lemon juice
salt and pepper to taste
Thinly slice the celery at a diagonal to get long and slender slivers of celery. Toss with the other ingredients until everything has a light dressing on oil and lemon juice. Serve with a bit of leftover champagne from the night before.