Telling food stories, one kitchen at a time
I’m writing this on the drive home from Nashville.
Guuuurrrrls weeeekeennnndd!
It took all my effort to shout that. I am worn out.
It’s been 10 days of travel — two very different trips, but both soooo awesome. I called the BBF nearly every day and talked his ear off. Seriously, the guy is such a good sport.
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We all know I’m a fan of the open-faced sandwich. I don’t think I’ve eaten a sammie with two pieces of bread since Mom packed me lunch in the 7th grade. By the way, when I was in the 7th grade, she used to send me to school with some kick-ass bagel sandwiches with horseradish. That’s right – horseradish. I was a cultured 7th grader. I probably haven’t eaten a whole bagel since then either. Now I’m just into halves. Or open-faces.
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I’ve been writing and deleting for almost an hour now. What’s the problem? It’s that I’m trying to make okra exciting.
Personally, I get really excited about okra.
But it’s really not that exciting. It’s a vegetable. It’s green. It’s slimy. A lot of people don’t like hate it. It’s either breaded and fried, like most Southern vegetables. Or stewed with tomatoes, like a lot of other Southern vegetables. It’s not super versatile.
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My friends are growing up. We all get older, but I reserve the term “growing up” for those life events that are life-changing. Graduations. marriages. births. promotions. heartbreak. even travel can be life-changing.
In my experience, life-changing moments = abundance of food. And this weekend I was hit with two of those life-changing-decadent-table-spread-open-bar events – a baby shower and a wedding. Even my best intentions and pre-party pep talks of “You don’t have to eat cake just because there is cake” were not enough to actually keep me away from the cake. Or from the vino.
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I invited the BBF on a day trip to the mountains — to pick apples, to picnic, to hike — and he obliged. He’s so good to me. (It’s probably because I feed him.)
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Get ready for this!
As you know from my previous post, I’m not giving in to the apples or pumpkins just yet. Pears are in season and they shouldn’t get overlooked! Bartlett and anjou pears are some of my favorite fruits. They’re sweet as candy when they’re ripe and so juicy. A proper pear chow down should leave you with juice all over your face, running down your arms, and dripping off your chin.
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I wait all year for fig season and then it comes and goes without me taking advantage of it. I think I bought figs once in July and that was it. At the beginning of September, there should be a few figs left, and so I got my grocery list prepared for Fig & Walnut Salad (a lady-meal to compliment last weekend’s man-meal), only to find that I couldn’t find any figs.
The BBF swears he has a fig tree outside his front door and that I will be able to pick some fruit in the near future. We’ll see. I’m skeptical.
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This is the first post on my personal domain! I have no clue what I’m doing (as you can probably see from the current layout quirks). Naive me — I was shocked to find out that it’s really difficult to run your own site. “They” recommend that I hire someone to do all of this for me, but it’s very expensive. And now I know why. But hopefully, you’ll see this site becoming more personalized each time you visit.
And so, here’s a recipe and a post simply so I can take a break from my tech-heavy day. 🙂
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