Reading this, it feels like you’re sitting at my kitchen table (or on my kitchen porch), as we chatter away—so much to talk about, so much to share, wise woman.
Tied up all day Tuesday but otherwise pretty free, except for a noon concert on Friday. How does Wednesday look for you? You have to call me because I cannot figure out WhatsApp—although I have it on my phone!
Now I know that I’m not the only person who thinks about telling my mother about some daily event and then realizes I haven’t been able to do that for 23 years now. It means that she’s still there in my mind and I hope she will never leave.
That rhubarb pie looks like heaven! My grandmother made rhubarb-custard pies and rhubarb-custard is used as a topping for a yeast coffee cake here in Bavaria—but the cardamon is not added and the yeast base isn’t quite as buttery as a pie crust. My mouth is watering and rhubarb hasn’t reached our markets yet.
Halibut - lucky you - best fish in the sea. A ferocious predator, capable of catching a gull midair by leaping out of the water. Information from a Norwegian fisherman on the Lofoten islands. Impressive. Nature being red in tooth and claw and all that Keep encouraging the snowdrops. Time softens - it happens anyway.
Celeriac. Michel Guérard once called me genius for inventing - I did not - a new way to peel celeriac, as well as a way to cook it. Some old Russian woman showed me the peeling part long before that, although she didn’t bother to wash the things. I think they became animal food. Anyway, peeling whole celeriac is so tedious. Cut it first into eights after very vigorously scrubbing the skin, then just zip off the outer layer with a paring knife. Sauté the skins with shallots and carrots and water or wine, then strain well. Take out your wok and cook your batonnets in there with your stock and finish with lemon juice. He loved the cuisine minceur feel of it. I always had a very egg rich tarragon mayonnaise to eat the hot celeriac with, usually with rice I had to hide. As for the Israeli-US mass murder of Iranian civilians I have no idea where your optimism comes from.
What a treat to have a new way of working with celeriac. When I'm cooking for only three or four, using one celery root, the peeling doesn't feel onerous. But your sequence, which squeezes everything possible out of the celeriac, is elegantly delicious-sounding. Big thanks.
Your return to the kitchen, and to writing about it as a place of steadiness in a time of personal loss and emptiness, feels very close to me. After the loss you have endured, it is completely understandable that the violence of the world feels unbearably painful and unnecessary.
I thought of ending here, because I generally resist engaging in political polemics. Politics is often deeply subjective - to each his or her own. But then I reread the passage that, for me, slightly coloured the usual wonderfulness of the essay.
And again, my sense of fairness and moral consistency compels me to make one further comment.
I certainly don’t want to justify any war. War is always a tragedy for civilians everywhere. And diplomacy should never be abandoned if ever there is a chance of it succeeding.
At the same time, describing this conflict as if it appeared out of nowhere - without acknowledging the Iranian regime, its ideology, its repression of its own citizens, and the threats Israelis have lived with for years - risks leaving out part of the reality. Human suffering deserves to be acknowledged in full, not selectively.
Reading this, it feels like you’re sitting at my kitchen table (or on my kitchen porch), as we chatter away—so much to talk about, so much to share, wise woman.
Thank-you Nancy. Yes, so much to talk about. Perhaps a WhatsApp conversation this coming week? How's your time? 🧡☀️
Tied up all day Tuesday but otherwise pretty free, except for a noon concert on Friday. How does Wednesday look for you? You have to call me because I cannot figure out WhatsApp—although I have it on my phone!
Now I know that I’m not the only person who thinks about telling my mother about some daily event and then realizes I haven’t been able to do that for 23 years now. It means that she’s still there in my mind and I hope she will never leave.
That rhubarb pie looks like heaven! My grandmother made rhubarb-custard pies and rhubarb-custard is used as a topping for a yeast coffee cake here in Bavaria—but the cardamon is not added and the yeast base isn’t quite as buttery as a pie crust. My mouth is watering and rhubarb hasn’t reached our markets yet.
She's using rhubarb that she froze last year…until the forced rhubarb arrives (in another month? not sure)
Halibut - lucky you - best fish in the sea. A ferocious predator, capable of catching a gull midair by leaping out of the water. Information from a Norwegian fisherman on the Lofoten islands. Impressive. Nature being red in tooth and claw and all that Keep encouraging the snowdrops. Time softens - it happens anyway.
I love this!
Thank-you…☀️
Celeriac. Michel Guérard once called me genius for inventing - I did not - a new way to peel celeriac, as well as a way to cook it. Some old Russian woman showed me the peeling part long before that, although she didn’t bother to wash the things. I think they became animal food. Anyway, peeling whole celeriac is so tedious. Cut it first into eights after very vigorously scrubbing the skin, then just zip off the outer layer with a paring knife. Sauté the skins with shallots and carrots and water or wine, then strain well. Take out your wok and cook your batonnets in there with your stock and finish with lemon juice. He loved the cuisine minceur feel of it. I always had a very egg rich tarragon mayonnaise to eat the hot celeriac with, usually with rice I had to hide. As for the Israeli-US mass murder of Iranian civilians I have no idea where your optimism comes from.
What a treat to have a new way of working with celeriac. When I'm cooking for only three or four, using one celery root, the peeling doesn't feel onerous. But your sequence, which squeezes everything possible out of the celeriac, is elegantly delicious-sounding. Big thanks.
Dear Naomi,
Your return to the kitchen, and to writing about it as a place of steadiness in a time of personal loss and emptiness, feels very close to me. After the loss you have endured, it is completely understandable that the violence of the world feels unbearably painful and unnecessary.
I thought of ending here, because I generally resist engaging in political polemics. Politics is often deeply subjective - to each his or her own. But then I reread the passage that, for me, slightly coloured the usual wonderfulness of the essay.
And again, my sense of fairness and moral consistency compels me to make one further comment.
I certainly don’t want to justify any war. War is always a tragedy for civilians everywhere. And diplomacy should never be abandoned if ever there is a chance of it succeeding.
At the same time, describing this conflict as if it appeared out of nowhere - without acknowledging the Iranian regime, its ideology, its repression of its own citizens, and the threats Israelis have lived with for years - risks leaving out part of the reality. Human suffering deserves to be acknowledged in full, not selectively.