I'm feeling a little self-conscious telling you about these beautiful Charvet linen dish towels I just got ($100 for a set of 6 at The Future Perfect) after the shitstorm that has recently rained down on Gwyneth Paltrow. Her new cookbook, It's All Good—described as recipes for the foods Gwyneth eats when she wants to lose weight, look good, and feel more energetic—is accused of being elitist, faux populist, full of "quack science" and completely out of touch with what "regular" people can afford to eat. (Here is Mark Bittman on the subject; the Eater review has some amusing lines as well.) But I reason that this investment will save me at least $100 in paper towels. And though I have admitted to my torrid love affair with rarified (aka expensive) ingredients, this blog really does strive for a sensible balance. It's about creating quality of life within your means and the idea that truly shameless indulgence is never thoughtless or irresponsible. And so on to the many, many links I have stored up for you. Things to try, ponder, taste and discover, at your leisure...
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Did you know that October has been rechristened Goatober? As part of Heritage Foods' "No Goat Left Behind" program, the month is now officially dedicated to learning about, loving and, yes, eating these wonderful animals. If you love goat cheese but are appalled by the idea of eating goat meat, I highly recommend you watch this excellent video and get educated about how the world of dairy works. Then get out and eat some delicious, nutritious goat! If you live in New York City, there are 53 participating restaurants that will be putting this undervalued meat on their tables this month (and hopefully on an ongoing basis), including Minetta Tavern, Colicchio and Sons, Momofuku Noodle Bar, Fette Sau, Gran Electrica and Parish Hall. And now, without further ado, some links for you to peruse. I'm having a couple of wisdom teeth yanked today and plan to use that as an excuse to put my feet up in front of the fire and read, snooze and surf the web to my heart's content. I hope you'll do the same (minus the sore jaw, of course).
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One thing I love about living closer to nature is how attuned I have become to the seasons. Although fall is still my favorite— for its surge of energy, its bittersweet luminosity—I have developed a much deeper appreciation of each one's particular qualities. The light, the air, the plants and the animals all telegraph the changes and make me so accutely aware of the cycle of life. In nature, death is not hidden away. Decay, rot, disease, skeletons—even genocide and homicide—are all around. These signs of death can sometimes be chilling, but also poignant and beautiful. You come across "scenes," learn to piece together clues and decipher narratives. On the rickety porch of an abandoned cottage nearby (I stop by there often to check out the old apple tree, the twining vines of wisteria and wild grape, the rampant patches of day lilies and iris), I found this tattered bird's nest. Inside were the dessicated skeletons of two baby birds. They reminded me of Heckle and Jeckle and I took them home, adding them to my collection of deer vertebrae, dead bugs and found feathers.
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You can run but you can't hide. I kind of hate to bring it up, but you'll love me when they're all said and done. The holidays, that is. (Hey, don't shoot the messenger. They're on their way whether I announce it or not.) Which is why I'm posting my collection of online shopping resources even earlier than last year. By the way, I still stand by all the suggestions of 2010, so you may want to have a look. Gwyneth already posted hers, and they're worth a gander, too. Because you really, really, really don't want to leave this until the last moment. If you look up hell in the dictionary, there's a picture of a mall on December 23rd. Don't go there. I do confess to feeling a little guilty about the carbon footprint of mail-order shopping, but then I think about the gas I would use to get to the store, and the karmic goodwill I am preserving by not having to engage with fellow humans in combat-shopping mode at this time of year. So make your list, and don't dwell too long on naughty or nice. Save your energy for finding gifts that will leave them all gob-smacked with glee.
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I grow old . . . I grow old . . .I shall wear the bottoms of my trousers rolled.Shall I part my hair behind? Do I dare to eat a peach?I shall wear white flannel trousers, and walk upon the beach.I have heard the mermaids singing, each to each.These lines from T.S. Eliot's The Love-Song of J. Alfred Prufrock come to mind whenever I bite into the first peach of the summer. Food is memory, is love, is comfort. The peach evokes summers past, Augusts at the beach, the steady thrum of the sea like the beating of my own heart. Only one of these will go on forever. With age comes introspection, but I sometimes wonder these days if solitude of mind at any age has now become a willful act. There is so much stimulus around us, everywhere at least one screen conveying essential information at all times. With the touch of a finger we are connected to thousands of people, opinions, conversations, comments. Is there any escaping this feeling that we are missing out if we aren't constantly checking in, tweeting, reporting, connecting? My old college pal Bill Powers has written an eloquent book, Hamlet's Blackberry, that looks to great thinkers of the past—Plato, Shakespeare, Thoreau—for ways to approach the digital dilemma and, ultimately, to disconnect. But there really is no way back; Pandora's box is open. And out of it, along with the demons, have emerged wonderful tools to enhance our lives.
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