Month: May 2009
It feels uncomfortable for me to write this, since it’s not exactly good news, but here goes: I need to take some time away from this site.
As you’ve probably noticed, I’ve been struggling a bit here in recent weeks, trying to keep this blog sailing along at her usual clip, and it’s not working very well. Between helping Brandon with Delancey and meeting my own work deadlines, I’ve been stretched thin. I’m not doing a very good job of any of it. Actually, I’m doing a pretty awful job of all of it.
This site has always been about a kind of love – a love for food, namely, and for writing – but right now, that love is temporarily redirected toward some other, more immediate demands, like helping my husband to tile and grout the (ginormous) facade of a pizza oven. In the spirit of keeping it real around here, I have to admit that I need some time to focus on the restaurant – and, if we’re being deadly honest, to try to enjoy the process, rather than feel overwhelmed by it. I also have some work-related travel coming up, and it needs my attention, too.
I’ll be back in a few weeks with the well refilled, I hope, and with plenty of recipes and stories for you. In the meantime, I hope you’ll understand my silence. With summer so close, and barbecues and gin and tonics and whatnot, I’ll bet you won’t even notice.
A few evenings ago, I felt very uninspired about making dinner. This has been happening a lot lately, far more than I should probably admit, as someone who is supposedly crazy about cooking. I could attribute it to lots of causes, but I think these things go in cycles for all of us, these urges to cook or not cook, and no matter our individual circumstances, it’s only sane to acknowledge that. Sometimes I want to make two types of sauce gribiche, and other times, I want to claw my eyes out and then call for a pizza delivery. I know I should try to find some sort of happy medium in this, and maybe I will someday. But in…Read more
About five years ago, I think it was, I went out to dinner with my friend Keaton and ate something called sauce gribiche. I had never heard of it before, but it was a kind of coarse vinaigrette, with chopped cornichons and capers and hard-boiled eggs, and it was served over asparagus. I don’t know why I remember it so clearly, aside from the fact that I dripped some of it onto my pants, but ever since, I’ve thought about it sometimes, usually when I’m supposed to be thinking about more important things, and I’ve wanted to try making it. It took me a while, as you can see, but yesterday, I finally did. Twice. The thing is, as I…Read more