Room 790 xxx
photos by gluttonforlife

4.22.13 High Noon

I watched a wonderful film this weekend, Which Way Is The Front Line From Here? It's an HBO documentary made by Sebastian Junger about photojournalist Tim Hetherington who was killed on the job in Libya a couple of years ago. Junger and Hetherington collaborated on an another stunning film, Restrepo, about a group of American soldiers in Afghanistan. Hetherington was clearly an extraordinary human being. The compelling photographs he took and humanitarian work he did in war-torn countries reveal the soul of a poet and the heart of a lion. Cut down by mortar shrapnel in Libya, he bled out from a wound to his femoral artery. Junger made the film as a tribute to his friend and colleague, and also started RISC (Reporters Instructed in Saving Colleagues), a free intensive training in basic combat medicine for freelance journalists headed for the front line. Listen to Terry Gross' moving interview with Sebastian Junger here. In it he refers to the way in which we continually "re-traumatize" ourselves by watching the same distressing news footage over and over. It reminded me of the coverage of the tragedy in Boston this past week and the relentless replaying of the same gruesome images. I question the value of this.

And now, on to brunch. Somehow trivial in light of these terrible events, and yet necessary to celebrate any given Sunday.
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Tagged — frittata
Shell 790 xxx
photos by gluttonforlife

4.5.11 The Golden Egg

One of the more beloved tales in my family's rich lore is of how my father, very early in his marriage to my mother, came up behind her as she was leaning into the oven and goosed her—except it turned out to be my grandmother!! I can just see the shock on both of their faces, and imagine the explosion of laughter that followed. They both had a wicked sense of humor, especially my dad. He and my maternal grandparents loved each other dearly, once the deeply Christian Chávez family got over the idea that their beloved eldest daughter was going to marry a Jew.

But this is about another sort of goose altogether. A goose egg, actually, no doubt laid by a female relative of the lovely fellow from River Brook Farm who was the centerpiece of our Christmas dinner.
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Tagged — frittata
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