We don’t post a lot here about food writing, mostly because the house we all live together in is sponsored by Chef Boyardee and Captain Morgan, so all we ever eat is canned ravioli washed down with straight warm light rum. But sometimes, something comes across our collective eye–or in this case, just mine–and you want to mention it.
Yesterday I was in my neighborhood coffee shop, and overheard a girl talking on her cell phone to somebody who seemed like a relative, about her day job (PR, of some kind, possibly book-related) and about a food blog she’s been working on for about a month now and feels really happy about. So before she left I aked her for the address of the blog, and went over there to check things out. Now I think you should check things out. The blog is called Omniamare, and the one I met is Lena, who posts as L. Day. Their site motto comes from a Robert Haas poem, and they seem to be pretty good at what they’re doing. Many of the posts come with recipes. Here are some of my findings:
Oh, the patience of those dinner guests, and their strong arm muscles. Without a blender or whisk, electric or not, we passed around a bowl of egg whites and bravely whipped them with a fork until they stiffened. If you invite people over to make souffle in a whiskless kitchen–not that you’d ever be so silly–buy many, many bottles of wine. Perhaps it was the hand-whipped whites, perhaps it was the midnight hour, but I wanted to loosen the soft souffle from its dish and curl up on its airy pillow. It puffed gorgeously and was delectably cheesy. We ate it straight from the pan, licking all ten fingers after each bite.
The risks we take! All the people we meet and all the restaurants we visit will someday break our hearts and stomachs, yet we keep eating. We spend all this time debating the perils of falling in love with so-and-so, scribbling out pros-and-cons lists, when what we should be asking ourselves is this: if one day I lose his avocado-shrimp burrito, will it have been worth it?
There are moments when the body is as numinous as words, days that are the good flesh continuing. Such tenderness, those afternoons and evenings, saying blackberry, blackberry, blackberry.
–Robert Hass, Meditations at Lagunitas
DIM PICTURE OF FLAMING GREEN TEA ICE CREAM