Thursday, August 18, 2011

peach crème fraiche pie with a thyme butter crust

peach creme fraiche pie with a thyme butter crust

Friendships can start in the most esoteric of ways. Some friendships commence in early childhood; others – through mutual friends. Once, a cherry pitter led me to one of my best friends – Jennie.

I had accidentally ordered two cherry pitters, and when they arrived, I realized my mistake. Who needs two cherry pitters anyway? I tweeted about my accidental splurge, and Jennie tweeted back, with an offer to relieve me of such burden. After a few tweets, we agreed to meet for coffee. I brought the cherry pitter; she brought her award-winning tomato jam. By the end of our coffee date we both knew – our friendship was meant to be.

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Thursday, August 4, 2011

slow roasted tomatoes

slow roasted golden cherry tomatoes

August, we will forever get along, no matter how hot and sticky you get, no matter what you throw my way, for what you bring with you is quite possibly my favorite summer thing – a tomato. And for that, I will always welcome you with open arms. No hot house tomato, no matter what kind, will ever approach the taste, texture, and fragrance of the real deal that arrives to farmers’ markets right about now and stays with us until late September.

To grasp a ripe summer tomato, heavy and warmed by the sun, to me, is the zenith of quotidian joys. The tomatoes I speak of are fragrant and are full of promise of a knee-weakening meal, sliced on a tomato sandwich, turned into a tomato crudo sauce, or slow-roasted and turned into myriad things.

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Tuesday, August 2, 2011

lobster rolls

lobster roll, ready to eat

My darlings, you can take a girl out of New England, but you can’t take New England out of the girl. That I can say with the utmost certainty.

It’s been ten years since I called myself a Massachusetts resident. After college I planted my roots in New York, and stubbornly, because New York wasn’t always the gentle and welcoming city to me (is she to anyone?) made sure, day by day, month by month, that New York and I got along. I courted her, patiently growing to appreciate different neighborhoods, seeing the beauty where most tourists saw squalor, walking her streets. We had a slow and steady courtship, but I was playing it for keeps. New York, finally, opened her heart wide to me, and I to her.

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