I only recently wrangled up a fondness for beer. The hoppy, malty, fizz-and-pop delight seems to deter many a person my age, and a taste is only acquired after long experimentation and a sort of “aha” moment in which one realizes shit, this is actually not bad. Going to Europe and tasting beer several levels above the watery infraction that is Bud Light helped me acquire a taste for the beverage. A good quality type of anything can change someone’s opinion of a whole, be it drinks, jeans, books, colors, or human beings. Continue reading “Beer bread: honey + cheddar”
November crept up and smacked my head from behind. The door to 2015 is fast closing and someone cracked open the window leading to the path of 2016. I’m rather startled by this rapid passing of time, flitting off the ticking clock like dust mites. Who have I been in 2015? A stranger, mostly. Yet, at the same time, a familiar friend. Continue reading “November supper: white cheddar pumpkin shells + prosciutto + herbed mushroom saute”
I allude to the future frequently on Venturing East. Perhaps the rambles of then are my way of cementing the future’s presence, and assuring myself that I am approaching one that won’t like a black hole stretch me thin & gulp me behind its stark black fangs. Writing has always been my way of adding permanence to the abstract. Once in word form, a concept or a wish exits dormancy. Words are a knight’s shield and a king’s royal orders. Continue reading “Summer Squash & Vine Tomato Galette + Rosemary Pea Pesto”
I don’t claim to be an expert on hosting, or laying a table, or homemaking in general. But as with any art, a delicate eye and a willingness to practice until your hands and soul are raw yields improvement. So I started small with supper audienced by merely my mom and myself, as good a company as I need.
Warm, cheesy bread is a godsend after a day of errand running & literal running across a parking lot beneath heavy raindrops. Failing, clothes becoming soaked, goosebumps rising like little hills on your arms from the chill of an AC against wet skin. But bread. It cheers the heart. Continue reading “Cheddar Chive Foccacia”