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April 2005

April 25, 2005

This is not my herb garden

I apologize for the image quality. These pictures were taken back in the early days of digital cameras and it shows. I prefer to think of it as the mist of memory...


This is not my herb garden.

If it was my herb garden, I could describe the variegated marjoram that edges the rockery along the front edge—the deceptively delicate white-edged leaves and stems of tiny white flowers belie the pungent, peppery scent—and how it grew from one small clump to fill in a dozen feet of edging in one season. I’d know this marjoram was at its best when sprinkled whole on top of plated food—the leaves small enough to be left beautifully intact, yet tender enough to eat whole.

If this was my herb garden, I’d know that Irish moss grows between the herringboned path stones, sending up minuscule white flowers that somehow live while being trod upon.

If this was my herb garden, I’d tell of how the mid-August apple mint threatens Path1cto overtake everything else, its branches stretching as high as one’s chin and making it easy to breathe in the lightly fruity scent. If this was my herb garden, I’d know that this lavender is but one of more than a dozen species that live here: English, Spanish, with flower spikes of violet, magenta, periwinkle, and white. I’d know that a few of the lavenders have been gifted with rare thymes at their feet. Caraway, orange balsam, and even lavender thyme nestle protected from the hottest rays of the summer sun.

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April 21, 2005

(tap, tap, tap) Is this thing live?

Can I write this, the first, entry in my food blog later? Pretty please with cinnamon-infused whipped cream and long, fragrant curls of lemon zest on top. It's not just that I hate writing about myself--which I do--but I always write the first part of my writing last; Forewords, Introductions, first chapters, they all get put off until the end. It's so much easier to talk about where you're going when you already know where you've been.

Given that, you can only imagine how pleased by the prospect of both writing about who I am and introducing the blog...because the world needs another food blog. Don't get me wrong, I love all the food blogs. Love them far too many hours a day in fact. chuckle. But how to distinguish oneself from Sam,  Molly, Biggles, Nic, or Heidi? Or the even more ubiquitous food bloggers, whom I won't mention because everyone else does.

I must have something to do in the kitchen. I have strawberries and chocolate; I am sure I could come up with something to do instead of writing the stupid first post. Maybe it'll write itself while I melt chocolate and dip strawberries.

Continue reading "(tap, tap, tap) Is this thing live?" »

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