Obviously not mulled wine ...

I wanted to post this just in case we cease to exist tomorrow. Just kidding. Mostly.

Are you ready? It's a good one... I (drum roll please) am so totally doing a mulled wine recipe. Mulled wine! Hoorah! I know you're super stoked right?! It's a pretty crazy thing this mulled wine business. Heated in fact (pun!). Now, judge me if you will but I love mulled wine. Many people don't (killjoys!). Many people believe it is blasphemy to sully the noble grape in such a manner. I however, am not one of these naysayers.

So, down to business.

To Pinot or not to Pinot? That, is the question.

I'm not sure many of you know this but I stopped drinking alcohol for about a year and a half. Why on earth would I do such a seemingly ludicrous thing? Well, frankly, to give my hardworking little organs a break from my lush, indulgent, gourmet self.

Before this mega pause -- which when started was terribly daunting and I did not think I would survive ... I mean supper, no wine?! Going out, no Kettle One on the rocks with a heavy twist?! Brunch, no mimosa?! After work, no extra dry extra cold shaken not stirred martini extra olives please?! Aperitif, no Campari, heavy on the oranage peel?!!! Just because, no Lagavulin 16 neat with a drop of water?!! Pub time, no Guiness, no snakebite, no black and tan?! I could go on. I could fill page. after. page. --  I fancied big, bold, bring you to your knees in gratitude for the magnificent grape red wine. Reds that grabbed me and rocked my taste buds to their very core. So tannic and rich they brought tears of joy to my eyes. My darlings. My Cabarnets, Syrahs and New World Merlots ...

But.

Post mega pause - which incidentally I did survive and there was no too much lucidity induced armageddon - I, dear readers, completely switched. Completely. I took myself by total, utter surprise. After all those years of the bold and the brave I was now completely (and utterly) a Pinot girl. Gone were the desires for that punch. That intensity. Here were desires for beautiful pools of clear light red that I just want to bathe in, fruity soft beginnings that lead to smooth complexities and soft caresses on the tongue. Every sip is a revelation, a joy, an enlightenment. Amen! Pinot! Pinot! Pinooooot!

Ahem.

A lengthy road, perhaps, but we got here.

So, to Pinot?

Yes. Absolutely.

Most people prefer a more full bodied wine to make said extraordinary drink but for me it is too heavy. When you start with a tannic, full bodied, extraordinarily present wine and then add spices, herbs, something sweet etc .. it just becomes too much. So this is why a gorgeous Pinot is such a gem. You have that exquisite balance of acidity, fruits and blooms and when you add just the right touch of mulling ingredients ... I tell ya dear readers you are in for a luscious treat.


Time to dish.


Mulled wine ... cheers dear readers, to your health and happiness. All my love.

Obviously not mulled wine but she's so cute, right?

Here is what you need:

• 1 bottle of awesome Pinot (I love Ninth Island from Tasmania ...Grrrrrrr )
• 1 fresh rosemary sprigs
• 2 whole cinnamon sticks
• 3 whole star anise
• 3 whole cloves
• 5 whole peppercorns
• 1/2 teaspoon of coriander seeds
• A few slices of ginger
• Peel of one orange
• Honey or maple syrup, as sweet as you like it (also get a mild honey/syrup otherwise it will overpower the wine...

Here is what to do:

1. Combine and boil. Hard right?
2. Seriously. That's it
3. I swear.
4. Once you've done that, simmer for about 2 - 3 minutes and then let the whole glorious concoction sit in your fridge overnight, overday, whatever ... and then if you like you can spike it with vodka but I like mine straight up. Neat. I always was a classic kinda girl...ish ...

Life on toast ...

The words still hesitate, but photos peek through.

The tomatoes for the sauce ...

The spirit of Fall. It warmed my heart as people passed by, stopped and smiled for a moment in their day. I would watch them from the window...

Lunch one day ...

A peek through the houseplants ...

Roasted tongue sandwich on pumpernickel ...

Love.

Sleeping angels on earth ...

More sleeping angels on earth ...

Crystal chandeliers that let in the prism every day ...

Peace and love and hot tea ...

Lunch another day ...

Life on toast ...

Just me and the tomatoes ...

Holy crap does the time ever fly. Yes yes, eloquent, I know. I've been laying low. I am also an expert at stating the obvious. And writing in broken sentences. Ummm, yeah, there I go again with the whole stating the obvious thing. Alright...ahem ...focus ... it's been a while... So this low laying business was so low, I had not even realized how the time has passed.

I'm going to tell you something dear readers. Something that I probably should not be telling you because I mean, what kind of writer (especially of a blog) thinks such things or even worse, says such things but ... well ... the thing is, I've wanted to keep it to myself for a while. The cooking, that is.

To hug it close to my heart and not share it with anyone. It's strange, I suppose, but I have wanted to cook on my own, just me and the tomatoes and the grassy olive oils. Me and the peppers bubbling in the pan while I gently coaxed them into a beautiful paste. I've wanted to hang the herbs and the flowers I have collected for the teas and to not take one single photo of anything.

Instead, I have been gallivanting around and want to share some other photos with you. Here's some of what I've been up to this last little while ...

Time to dish. Dish up some photos that is.



Camping by the sea and looking through tent skylights ...

Lounging lazily by eastern beaches ...

Camping not by the sea in this too authentic teepee freezing my butt off while pregnant spiders dangled in my face. Quelle horreur. I'll tell you about it.

Reminding myself ...

Massaging ...

Travelling back in time ...

Finding hearts ...

Losing it a bit with my first lobster bib ...

Creating counter carnage art ...

Eating the best blueberry pie of my life. Period.

Watching my baby get cleaned by the cutest parrot ever. She was licking his stubble. Yep. It happened.

Reading...

This is what made me lose it with above mentioned bib. I just could not contain myself.

And of course, taking pictures of Napa...

Lots of them ...

Because she is just so cute. And precious. And I love her.

And I just want to squeeze her. Bebek.

Tomorrow, I have a recipe.

Happy Fall dear readers.

Summer sadness...

It is eight in the morning on a corner, at this cafe. The world has stopped. It is completely still. Not one thing is moving. Not one leaf sways on a branch. Nothing flutters except my heart. The rich, creamy, ebony espresso which I shouldn't have always makes me jittery. The air is heavy with moisture in a sky still carrying rain. The morning fog oppresses the mountain and the sun hides behind billowy, blue dense cloud, but I know he's there. He scorches my skin and fills my nostrils with hot, still, heavy air. My cheeks are hot. My heart beats faster. My summer sadness. I need the wind. Things must move. I pray for downpour and the gray, soft beauty in the aftermath.

And tonight, I make bomba.

Time to dish.

Marissa's Bomba recipe

Here is what you need:

• Cherry bombs, aka hot cherry peppers, chopped. Leave in the seeds baby!
• A clove of garlic, smashed.
• Coriander, just a handful.
• Sea salt and good olive oil.

Here is what to do:

1. Get your lovely pot out and get everybody in there. Cook on a low heat for about half an hour. After which, pound it all in your mortar and pestle or buzz it in the processor adding oil as needed. Until dear friends, you have a rich, red, spicy bomb!

Should be enough to get things moving...

My intersection ...

Some days, all I can do is wait to feel normal. For the sharpness to pass, for the winds of change to die down. They always do, you know. It's something I keep reminding myself. On these days I sit on corners. I watch people intersecting while I wait for my selves to merge. They cycle and walk and run and glide. Trying to avoid one another. Trying to avoid collision. Trying to get across safely.

I watch one of the travelers run by and read her t-shirt.

Stay calm, and slay the dragon.

I sit and watch, and wait. I wait for the answers to appear, for the awkwardness of life to pass and for another moment.

My stormy desert. My intersection. My calm.

Today I breathe ...

For the first time in what seems like a very long time, today I was able to breathe. To open my door and walk outside in the brisk air and take a deep, full belly breath. To expand my greedy nostrils and inhale this new life air with gratitude and gusto. It rained like mad yesterday, the kind of rain that slightly scares you but when you are tucked away somewhere to watch, makes you kinda' giggle with glee (which is precisely what I did). If truth be told, in the morning, I even stood right under it in our yard and let the drops fall all over me. With that lovely bath, all the stifling heat that has been on our chests and hearts was whisked away by the torrents and the wind. I'm not pretty in the heat dear readers. I swell right up, like right up, like nasty up, like marshmallow man up...ahem ... I get cranky, slow, sticky, icky and I don't really want to do anything. Which kind of bites because it's not really conducive to working outside, which is what I do, naturally.

But today, today I breathe. And take a walk through a stormy desert.

Stormy, beautiful desert roads ...