Peaches and the crave for solitude

This weekend we went to the Lafayette Peach Festival where we found delicious peaches from Palisade, CO, some as large as softballs. Peach tea, peach cobblers, peach smoothies, peach pie...yep, peach heaven. Well, that's all I have to say about peaches...

Yesterday, we went out to breakfast at a local diner. In the courtyard, I found a whole step covered with Mickeys and Minnies. I can't see a Mickey or Minnie without thinking of Orlando. It made me think of the life I had there when I was just a girl. It made me think of my family. As I watched a father play hide-n-seek in that courtyard with his 2 little girls, somehow the memory and the moment melted together to form a soft landing for the tiny ache that followed. The girls squealed in delight as the wide-eyes behind their hands watched their dad tuck around a corner. They bolted after him after a count of only 6.



The crave for solitude has been strong these past few days, but not the quiet kind of solitude. It's a restlessness, like the flickers of a waking fire just waiting to burst from smoldering ash. When my mind wanders to places other than where I am I know it's time to fan those flames with a slow exhale. Sometimes I forget that I can't breathe deeply, restoringly, without first exhaling...

Monday love...

Joining Amanda for Weekending....

xoxo

Gather then give (with a giveaway)

"True wisdom lies in gathering the precious things out of each day as it goes by." ~ E.S. Bouton

I've been gathering lately. I've never realized how much of a collector I truly am. But then again, I realize we all are. By the photos we keep, the collection of music we listen to, the books on our shelves, the stories we tell (or the bad jokes), the recipes in our boxes, the people we surround ourselves with, or have programmed into our phones, the art on our walls, the teas in our cupboard, the food we make, the trinkets we scavenge, the blogs on our blogroll... We are all gatherers---curators perhaps, of our own life's museum.

Roasted red,yellow and orange peppers, peeled and dressed with
garlic, olive oil, balsamic vinegar and salt...

"Gathering is peculiar because you see nothing but what you're looking for." ~ Tove Jansson, The Summer Book

As I add new chapters to my own collection, I surprise myself. It's been 2 1/2 weeks since we've been back from France, and I find myself looking for her in different corners of my days. In the French plates I've brought home, in the meals I make and eat, at the grocery stores that I shop in, I seek to gather whatever pieces of France I can find. And in this vein, I had decided a few days after we returned, to host a French dinner party. I wanted so much to relive and give what I had experienced. I believe the imprints of what we've collected last longer this way.

On July 4th, we had gathered a few of our new friends and neighbors to share a little piece of France with us. I spent three days hunting recipes and foods that I had loved. I even met a French man (from Orléans no less) at Whole Foods working behind the charcuterie counter! Coincidence? Maybe, but I don't think so. Anyway, he helped me find the closest things to French jambon, pâté, and saucisson. And of course there was wine, cheeses, French bread, fig and olive tapenade on goat cheese, saumon fumé, rice salad niçoise, olives, roasted red peppers, roasted pork loin served cold with dijon moutarde.

The bird plate, a thrift find at the Orléans flea market, served saumon fumé.

And I had every intention of taking more pictures, but as the guests arrived, the camera was soon forgotten in the midst of the kitchen. But I will tell you it was all that I had imagined it to be. The last thing I served was this cake recipe called Strawberry Savarin. A light, flaky, and buttery cake, that was more like a larger bundt version of a croissant. I made the strawberry-rhubarb syrup and served it with strawberries and blueberries. Inhaling the fragrance of this cake was like walking into a patisserie, of which every moment I enjoyed.

And so yesterday, as I wrote and collected my thoughts, I sat down to the Montagne de Jade tea and one last piece of this cake (which disappeared in a day:), and thought of you...

A piece of France intended for you...

Marie Antoinette Thé from Ladureé in Paris, France. This giveaway is for black tea drinkers, taste collectors, collectors of anything French, or gatherers of any kind...

To enter just leave me a comment about something that you love to collect or gather, tangible or not... I will select a winner at random next Friday...

Cheers to all of you this weekend...

xoxo

What we remember

This past weekend there was a Japanese heritage festival in town. My mother was so excited to go as these festivals are rare around here. Taiko drumming was the first thing we enjoyed before the rain came...If you have never seen Taiko drumming, take a minute here...the energy is incredible.

The first 7 years of my life was Japan. I remember sitting on my knees in traditional Japanese style at my grandmother's low, square table, blanketed with the delicious staples of a Japanese meal. A large rice cooker filled to the brim with steaming hot, white sticky rice, homemade miso soups, fresh caught fish, and pickled radishes were on the table nearly every meal. I spoke Japanese as fluently and as naturally as any other then, it seems so long ago now...

It's amazing the things our memory keeps and holds onto, our senses being the gateway to the threads of our past. As I walked through that festival and listened to the twangy, languid sounds of Japanese music, smelled the salt and steam from the foods such as yakisoba and yakitori, and watched the distinctive mannerisms of politeness and bowing, bittersweet emotions of fondness and mourning simultaneously erupted for what I had known to be my world as a child. I realize that 7 is still so so young, and I look at my children wondering what they will remember.

I look forward to sharing that part of me with them sometime, I probably already have in many little ways. But for now, I will wake every day knowing that with our own daily rituals, they are building sensory maps of their own, and they will remember, just as I have, where they came from and how far they had come :).

much love
xoxo