Food is about family, food is about community, food is about identity. And we nourish all those things when we eat well. —Michael Pollan
As easy as pie.
There’s something about pie, any kind of pie— gorgeous lattice top pies or rustic galettes, deep dish or pot pies, sweet or savory, fruit or vegetable, cheesy or meaty, hand pies from every corner of the earth… there’s something about taking pastry dough and wrapping it around, partially or completely, some kind of filling that makes it simply irresistible. Continue reading
Even what has died is beautiful. —Seyi
It’s autumn, and here in Montréal, even if you decide to pay no heed, you will find it hard not to see a beautiful transformation taking place. Stealthily and quietly, nature is at work as the Earth continues its journey to complete yet another trip around the Sun and though there may not be any fresh garden flowers to pick, there is still great beauty to be found.
Today’s post shows two examples of autumn-inspired gift wrapping. As well, down below, I show you how to make your own beautiful, hand-torn ribbon, as the one used in the photo below.
In the midst of darkness, light persists. – Mahatma Gandhi
Growing up in Montréal, Diwali always lacked the fanfare of Diwali celebrations taking place in India or elsewhere around the world. But still, we celebrated by lighting small clay lamps around the house and, of course, with homemade sweets. Today’s recipe is for my not-so-sweet nan khatai. Continue reading
I have loved you for a thousand years,
I’ll love you for a thousand more. -Christina Perri
My husband, John, and I dated during tumultuous times in our lives. Tumultuous because we were both at the dawning of our careers and were assiduously travelling around the globe on assignment; John, more often than I, and often on a moment’s notice. These were the days before smartphones and even smarter apps and if all our free time together was being spent on the burgeoning romance, then all our savings were being depleted on long distance phone calls. When John found himself with a week to spare in between two European assignments, he asked me to meet him in Marseilles. At the time, I knew very little about Provence and I wondered “Why not Paris?” but I easily accepted just the same. Continue reading
Late summer, here in Montréal, our markets, and backyard and community gardens alike, are overflowing with tomatoes; all ripening at once that it’s nearly impossible to keep up with nature by merely consuming them at the usual weekly consumption rate. They are sold dirt cheap, by the bushels, to anyone who is brave enough to venture into a little forward-thinking sauce-making. I may not always be so forward-thinking but I’m a sucker for cheap so this is the time of year when I turn a fairly inexpensive bushel of tomatoes into a healthy supply of pizza sauce. Continue reading
Some days in late August at home are like this, the air thin and eager like this, with something in it sad and nostalgic and familiar. —William Faulkner
Our lives intersected when we were at polar opposite phases. I was looking forward to growing a family. She was well into old age; too frail to care for herself, let alone the large house she solely occupied.