Dinner: November 3, 2014

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There were two fat roast chickens, roasted rainbow carrots, and buttery brussels sprouts.

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There was a big bowl of fluffy mashed potatoes, a lemony pan sauce, and plenty of chilled rose’, to toast to our last first year.

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There was a cake with sprinkles and one red candle, and a little girl to blow it out (with the assistance of her big brother).

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I hope she takes on everything in life with such gusto.

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back to my roots

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Long before LND was a blog, it was a photo chronology of what Mike and I were cooking and eating in the earliest days of our relationship. My photography skills were even worse than they are now, but I didn’t care – I wasn’t taking pictures to share them, just to catalog our meals. It was casual and fun, totally low-pressure. I’ve missed those days.

In the years since I started taking pictures of my food, Mike and I shacked up, got married, moved from Brooklyn to Providence and back again, said goodbye to two beloved kitties, got published, ate high-end truck food on camera, welcomed two beloved children into the world, and worked on a book that is going to be out in a little over a month. That’s a whole lot of living, and a whole lot of meals that may or may not have made their way to these pages.

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There have been plenty of fallow periods here as we went through various life adjustments, and I’ve often wondered if I should just let this space fade away. It has felt like too much of a burden, a drain on my (increasingly limited) time, and frankly, the blogging world is very different now than it was when I started. I don’t know squat about SEO (nor do I care), I don’t have the time or money to go to conferences, and so many of my favorite food bloggers stopped posting ages ago… but something has kept me from walking away.

I was reminded last week, amid all of the ugly news in our country and the world, of this essay. Amanda Hesser begins with these words:

We eat for many reasons other than hunger. But there is only one reason we gather at the table. To be with one another.

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This virtual table is important to me. The sense of community and connection I have felt with the people I’ve interacted with via this space has sustained me through so many ups and downs over the last seven years, and I’m not ready to give that up. So instead of feeling some totally internal pressure to post more frequently, or to keep up with what others are doing, or to conform to someone else’s idea about the “right way” to write a food blog, I’m just gonna do me. There may be a recipe from time to time, if I’ve got the time and the space to create one, but mostly I want to go back to my roots, to post a crappy photo of a meal that we cooked in our tiny Brooklyn kitchen, and shared at our table.

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Speaking of gathering together, in the coming months we’ll be traveling to Boston and Providence, to Central PA, and more to promote SHRUBS. We’d love to get a chance to meet some of you. We’ll be posting updates and tour information over on the SHRUBS Facebook page.

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one small thing

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I’ve been feeling a range of big emotions for the last week – anger, sadness, fear, disgust, despair, and a sense of utter powerlessness. What is going on in Ferguson, MO is ugly and horrific, and the more I read, the more I wish I could do something, anything, to help make things better, to support those who are fighting for justice. I was at a loss until this morning, when a friend on Facebook posted a link to the St. Louis Area Food Bank.

Schools in Ferguson are still closed, which means that kids who qualify for free lunch may not be getting it. Ferguson is also considered a food desert. One small thing we can do from our computers is to help feed people. I’m donating now. Can you? http://stlfoodbank.org/

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a little big news

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If you were around last Friday, you may have heard my husband‘s big announcement; and if you haven’t, well, I feel it is my duty to share some wonderful news with you.

While I’ve been spending the last few months not-so-much-cooking, and not-so-much-eating, and mostly putting all my energy into incubating Sprog 2.0, Mike has been pouring his heart and soul and considerable talents into a pretty major project of his own: a book. SHRUBS: AN OLD-FASHIONED DRINK FOR MODERN TIMES, is set for release in July of 2014. If you don’t yet know what a shrub is, well, my Dietsch is the guy to explain it to you.

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My own involvement with this project goes a little beyond taste tester and head cheerleader, as well: I shot the cover (!), and will be providing additional photos for the book (!!), which is exciting and surreal and more than a little nerve-wracking, since our deadline falls right around the time the new baby is due, but hey, an opportunity like this is a once in a lifetime thing. It’s a thrill to have some tiny part in helping Mike’s lifelong dream become a reality.

Big, big congrats, sweetie – I am so proud of you, and hopefully this is just the beginning.

I’m an Olive Adventurer!

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I don’t usually post about brand partnerships here, but I have a longstanding love for olives, and when I was asked earlier this year by the folks at Lindsay Olives to contribute a couple of my original recipes to their Olive Adventurer series, I was happy to oblige. (I’m in excellent company, as you can see!)

You can get my recipes for Braised Escarole with White Beans and Olives, and Spaghettini alla Caponata (pictured above) over at LindsayOlives.com. Enjoy!

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appetite

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So somehow in the middle of my recent spate of 50-hour work weeks, I managed to get pregnant again. No burying the lede this time, I’m just putting it right out here, and letting you all know that baby number two is set to join us in October, a month after Julian’s second birthday. We’re thrilled of course, though my tiredness has reached a whole new level, and my appetite, to my chagrin, is all but gone these days.

I had no such trouble eating throughout my first pregnancy. My first trimester nausea was just mildly bothersome, and I had no real morning sickness to speak of. I ate well and often: lots of fruit and fish, big salads and eggs and nuts by the handful. Indian food, Mexican food, any kind of spicy food – bring it on. Just about everything tasted great, and physically, I felt better than I had in years.

But things are different this time around – not drastically so, just enough to throw me for a loop. I feel a little bit queasier, a little more fatigued than I remember being last time, and I just don’t have much of an appetite. For anything. Frustrating for many, but downright maddening for a typically food-fixated sort like myself.

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It doesn’t help that I feel guilty about not eating. I’m building a baby, after all.

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I’m in a lull between trials right now, and my schedule has cleared up a bit. Mike has taken on the lion’s share of dinner prep in recent weeks, between my work commitments and lack of interest in eating, but I was eager to get back in the kitchen over the weekend, even though I had no clue what to make for us. Inspiration came, as it often does these days, via Pinterest, and a beautiful panade from Emily of Five and Spice. Since I’ve been able to reliably keep down bread and cheese, and we had a fresh batch of rich chicken stock in the fridge, it seemed like a good bet.

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So I headed into the kitchen yesterday afternoon while Julian napped and Mike took care of some things around the apartment, and I sliced onions and trimmed chard, grated cheese and massaged stale bread. I sauteed the greens and alliums in batches, built some layers and moistened them with stock, then I set my covered pan in a low oven to bake for a good long while.

And then I put my feet up.

The three of us sat down to eat together as the sun set, something I have missed more than anything else over the last few months, and as I watched the boys tucking into their respective portions, I was happy that at least they were enjoying their meal. I still wasn’t sure if I would. But I took a spoonful from my own bowl, satiny greens and wobbly bread, the aroma of stock and cheese and onions set aloft on a pocket of steam, and I closed my eyes as I took it into my mouth. I took another bite, and another, and another, and soon, my belly was as full as my heart felt.