Stalling for Time

Has it really been 10 days since my last post? I wish I could say that I’ve been off doing exciting things in some exotic destination, but I’ve been here, fixated on my computer screen, reviewing the copyedits to the crab cookbook and trying to keep my eyes from crossing as I make the necessary changes. Between that and taxes, I’ve been having more fun than I can handle.

But the blogsphere hasn’t been missing me, oh no. It’s humming out there! In between checking ingredient lists and tallying my business mileage, I’ve been sneaking peeks at Jeffrey Chodorow’s public spanking of Frank Bruni, and Sam’s clever letter to Jeffrey in response.

I’m a Frank Bruni fan. I think he’s an excellent writer; his pieces radiate a sense of enthusiasm and delight, and they’re always fun to read. From the Kobe review: “If Akira Kurosawa hired the Marquis de Sade as an interior decorator, he might end up with a gloomy rec room like this.”  Let’s hope that he continues to speak his mind, regardless of the occasional rants by self-aggrandizing restaurateurs.

I love this post by Tea. As soon as it showed up on my blog reader, I clicked over and read it, and felt instantly moved. It’s one of the best pieces of food writing I’ve seen lately.

I’m also quite fond of this post by Alder, and the companion piece by Derrick. Methinks the boys had fun pruning the grapevines.

Last week, I hunted through the archives at In Praise of Sardines to find one of my favorite of Brett’s recipes, Slow-Roasted Cauliflower with Pounded Anchovies. I've made this dish several times, and as always, it was so good that we scraped the bowl clean in mere minutes.

I’ve been craving green lately. The incessant rain and cold are making me dream of spring, and I’m trying to pile as much green on my plate as I can in order to coax her out of hiding. I’ve got every herb I can find stuffed into the refrigerator, along with fennel and green peas and arugula. I made cod with green olives a couple of nights ago, and topped crab cakes with bright green dollops of basil aioli another day.

With any luck, I'll pry myself out of my chair and change out of my pajama pants and get myself to the Pollan-Mackey debate tonight. Yes, I wear pajama pants while I'm writing. That's the joy of being a freelancer. Oh, that and I get to drink tea throughout the day, and listen to whatever music I like, without regard to the preferences of co-workers.

Ah, work. Best get back to it.