It’s August and what I can’t seem to figure out is how July is now behind us. In September I’ll be resetting my clock for another year and I will either be casually or dramatically (haven’t decided yet) reminded that years are infinite in theory but time is concrete in practice. This is ironically highlighted by my desire for a watch.
Today we are having thunderstorms for breakfast. Today I will look at my dog and understand that she knows me really well. If the sun doesn’t come out we’re still going to be jovial. If the clouds continue to gather we will address them personally. If she doesn’t like the taste of thunderstorms she doesn’t tell me.
A general buzz and hum is nesting sweetly in the kitchen- for it is that I have acquired both fruit and fungus for inspiration and illustration.
While chanterelles may grow in the black hills, the pacific northwest will always be the beacon in my mind. Foraging is somewhat of a sweet insanity that includes chasing the rain and training your eyes. The satisfaction is quite endless, verging maniacal at times.
And mania is easily calmed by the deep sweetness of figs.
There is something quite initial about figs to me, as if they are the primary source – the originators.
I have a summer salad I want to share with you. Peppery arugula, raw figs, green apple, gorgonzola, and chanterelles pan crisped in butter. This is gathered by a simple pepper vinaigrette, which I find quite complimentary of the already assertive flavors.
While this salad cannot bring back lost time, I do believe that it may briefly stop it.
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