Life meanwhile—real life, with its essential interests of health and sickness, toil and rest, and its intellectual interests in thought, science, poetry, music, love, friendship, hatred, and passions—went on as usual, independently of and apart from political friendship or enmity... -Leo Tolstoy (War and Peace)If my last post was grounded in the mood of the…
Fortunately, I believe that today a revival of interest in making bread is in full swing. People are learning that it is possible to make as little as one loaf at a time with a minimum of effort--or perhaps two loaves, with one for the freezer. They are also learning the extraordinary sense of satisfaction…
Granted, granted I'm a babbler, a harmless, irksome babbler, as we all are. But what's to be done if the sole and express purpose of every intelligent man is babble--that is, a deliberate pouring from empty into void. -Dostoevsky (Notes from the Underground)It's been a strange week, dear readers. Strange, strange, strange. It all started on…
Peace goes into the making of a poem as flour goes into the making of bread. -Pablo NerudaAbout a month ago, on a frigid night in North Beach, a friend asked me if I cook everyday. While there was a part of her that looked appalled at the possibility that I did, it seemed there was…
Riuscire meglio a pane che a farina. [To succeed more with the bread than with the flour, i.e. to have more success than expected.]You could say that this Italian proverb, which I found at the beginning of Carol Field's The Italian Baker (sadly, I speak no Italian), has been the overarching theme of the week.…
But there is great dignity in allowing oneself to keep clear about what is good, and it is what I think of when I hear the term "good taste." Whether things were ever simpler than they are now, or better if they were, we can't know. We do know that people have always found ways…
Most people think of Sunday as a day of rest. Throughout his childhood, however, Tengo had never once viewed Sunday as a day to enjoy. For him, Sunday was like a misshapen moon that showed only its dark side. When the weekend came, his whole body began to feel sluggish and achy, and his appetite…
Whatever the hands of man take up with love is holy.-George SeferisComrades and faithful readers, I have finally done it: I have baked the bread I've been talking about for months! I know what you're thinking though...you're looking at the picture and wondering if I've gone mad because, clearly, "That's not bread, that's cake!" My…
Dining with Dostoevsky 