Posts tagged ‘Carrot’

February 14, 2013

Sauerkraut, revision 2

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In his book On Writing, Stephen King throws this out:

“On the other hand…there is Harper Lee, who wrote only one book (the brilliant To Kill a Mockingbird). Any number of others, including James Agee, Malcolm Lowry, and Thomas Harris (so far), wrote under five. Which is okay, but I always wonder two things about these folks: how long did it take them to write the books they did write, and what did they do the rest of their time? Knit afghans? Organize church bazaars? Deify plums? I’m probably being snotty here, but I am also, believe me, honestly curious. If God gives you something you can do, why in God’s name wouldn’t you do it?” (p. 147)

I’m not sure you can appreciate, without reading King’s quote in context, how funny this came off. Funny and dead on. Sure, he sounds flip. But I believe him. The author of (now) over 50 books and more than 200 short stories is having a hard time understanding what the holdup could possibly be.

He’s right, of course. He questions them as a means of questioning us. What are you, writer, doing with your time?

November 22, 2012

Roasted golden carrots with ginger, lime and shallots

You’re humming along by now, I’m sure. You’ve been up for hours, prepping.

So have I. This year we’re at my mom’s house for the Thanksgiving meal. The kitchen, that will soon be filled with smells so rich they’re almost visible, is newly painted a bamboo green that shifts according to the light. It’s a good space. A hub. This is where we’ll spend the day. This is where I’ll make roasted carrots for the second time this week.

November 15, 2012

Garlic and tomato soup

When I realized I left my drawstring bag filled with garlic somewhere at the market on Saturday, my puffy little dream of making homemade pitas with roasted garlic deflated.

When our daughter woke up with a fever on Sunday, I dug up a head of garlic (not the chunky-cloved Music variety I’d planned on roasting) and starting plotting a pot of soup instead.

October 18, 2012

Napa slaw with baby ginger

I’ve heard it said – in a writing workshop, no less – that you should never start a blog post like this:

I went to the farmer’s market and look what I bought!

Yawn. It’s predictable.

But, listen.

Olympia is crossed by the 47th parallel, far north of the equator, where CSA boxes overflow with more chard, beets and radishes than you’re ever likely to eat in one season. When I round a corner at the place I’m not supposed to mention, on my way to buy a bunch of green onions, I’m not supposed to see this.

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