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their favourite bloggers

Le 10 décembre 2015, 09:03 dans Humeurs 0

The thing about foodblogging--or many other types of blogging, I suppose--is it's quite a solitary endeavour.

I sit here, alone, in my basement TV temple, my laptop perched on my lap, unfurling my thoughts as I type away into the ether. I never quite ask "is there anyone out there?" I know there is. Who you are is mostly a mystery to me.

Some of my regular visitors are known to me--they comment, email or talk to me via Twitter. Many are anonymous passers by who find me through links, Internet searches or simply by accident. But then there are those who stop by on a regular basis who are quiet voyeurs to parts of my life. I often wonder about this last group--who they are, why they visit and why they return.

Every once in a while someone uncloaks--I always feel a bit honoured when they do. Sometimes when they say "hi," I'm a bit amazed at who's dropped me a line.

Imagine my surprise when I received a note from an editor at, asking me to participate in an article featuring their favourite bloggers. Seriously. Me?

They've followed my pixelated rants and escapades for years and decided to include me with some of food blogging's finest voices and photographers. Angie, Béa, Clotilde, Dara, Hillary, Ilva, Jeanette, Kalyn, Matt, Melody, Paula, Peabody and I all shared some of our kitchen aventures in a piece about ingredient phobias. You can read it here.

A couple of weeks later, I received another note. A writer for Taste Magazine, a local quarterly food journal contacted me for a feature she was pulling together about local foodbloggers. One of her colleagues has read me for a while and suggested that she track me down. And track me down she did. She came to my home and we had a lovely natter over some lemon-blueberry buckle. The article also profiles Charmian and Andrea; we've all contributed seasonal recipes for cold winter months. The magazine's editor was kind enough to flip me a pdf, so I can share it here.

The flavor is main-lined

Le 4 septembre 2014, 05:05 dans Humeurs 0


I don't know much about juicers, but I now own one. It's stone heavy, says professional on the label and, generally speaking, seems a bit more hardcore than I would need? My guess is it spent the last ten years on the floor of my parent's pantry. I'll start this post by telling those of you who might be new readers here, I'm a person who didn't have many kitchen appliances until recently - no toaster, no microwave, and I'm happy to juice things by hand. Yet, by happenstance, I've assembled an admirable collection of machines in the past few months. The juicer is just the end of the parade. It landed with a thud at the top of our stairs, boxed in old cardboard, hand-delivered by my dad (apparently banished by my mom after a cleaning binge). And it seems barely used, which I find amusing. Anyway, I let it sit on the counter for about a week, thought about it some, then started juicing everything in sight. I thought I'd share a bit of what I learned...Also, before I dive in, do many of you have juicers? I'd love to hear what you like to make with them.

So, I quite like the juicer(!), and I love the possibilities it lends to expanding my overall ingredient/culinary palette. Fresh juice is invigorating - straight up, blended, or as part of whatever I'm making. It seems the most important thing is to use vibrant, healthy produce. Use the best quality produce you can get, great if it's organic or sustainably grown. If that's not happening, wash it gently, but thoroughly.

A few other observations: The blender and juicer are entirely different beasts. I know this seems obvious, but the blender does chop-chop, and the juicer seems to separate all the fibers and solids from the juices. The juicer produces essences that are incredibly intense, alive, and bright. The flavor is main-lined. I was totally into it. Beyond the fruits and vegetables, I experimented with grains and nuts (see below).

Everyone seems to think using a juicer is a pain in the ass. Primarily the clean-up part. And it was, sort of. But not nearly as bad as I thought. It seems most convenient to juice in batches, set aside what you might use in the immediate future as well as the forthcoming days and then freeze any beyond that immediately. Not as perfect as freshly juiced, but still great.

One thing I'll add here, read you juicer's instructions before diving in. What works in mine might not work in your model.

that have made her famous I swore off lobster rolls for life Then there’s the udon noodles for some mysterious reason here seemed a good place in enchilada wedding bliss I’m generally not a fan I love whipping up a batch of delicious posted a little bit in advanc I get back from the market

whatever their age

Le 15 avril 2014, 11:30 dans Humeurs 0

Years ago, when I started looking for my first job, wise advisers urged, "Barbara, be enthusiastic! Enthusiasm will take you further than any amount of experience."
How right they were. Enthusiastic people can turn a boring drive into an adventure, extra work into opportunity and strangers into friends.
"Nothing great was ever achieved without enthusiasm," wrote Ralph Waldo Emerson. It is the paste that helps you hang in there when the going gets tough. It is the inner voice that whispers, "I can do it!" when others shout, "No, you can't."
It took years and years for the early work of Barbara McClintock, a geneticist who won the 1983 Nobel Prize in medicine, to be generally accepted. Yet she didn't let up on her experiments. Work was such a deep pleasure for her that she never thought of stopping.
We are all born with wide-eyed, enthusiastic wonder as anyone knows who has ever seen an infant's delight at the jingle of keys or the scurrying of a beetle.
It is this childlike wonder that gives enthusiastic people such a youthful air, whatever their age.
At 90, cellist Pablo Casals would start his day by playing Bach. As the music flowed through his fingers, his stooped shoulders would straighten and joy would reappear in his eyes. Music, for Casals, was an elixir that made life a never ending adventure. As author and poet Samuel Ullman once wrote, "Years wrinkle the skin, but to give up enthusiasm wrinkles the soul."
How do you rediscover the enthusiasm of your childhood? The answer, I believe, lies in the word itself. "Enthusiasm" comes from the Greek and means "God within." And what is God within is but an abiding sense of love -- proper love of self (self-acceptance) and, from that, love of others.
Enthusiastic people also love what they do, regardless of money or title or power. If we cannot do what we love as a full-time career, we can as a part-time avocation, like the head of state who paints, the nun who runs marathons, the executive who handcrafts furniture.
Elizabeth Layton of Wellsville, Kan, was 68 before she began to draw. This activity ended bouts of depression that had plagued her for at least 30 years, and the quality of her work led one critic to say, "I am tempted to call Layton a genius." Elizabeth has rediscovered her enthusiasm.
We can't afford to waste tears on "might-have-beens." We need to turn the tears into sweat as we go after "what-can-be."
We need to live each moment wholeheartedly, with all our senses -- finding pleasure in the fragrance of a back-yard garden, the crayoned picture of a six-year-old, the enchanting beauty of a rainbow. It is such enthusiastic love of life that puts a sparkle in our eyes, a lilt in our steps and smooths the wrinkles from our souls.

quitianoo 美麗的琥珀色 月亮湖 心間的溫暖 懂得了,簡單 那一段回憶甜甜的 一段蕭瑟了的記憶 曾經的承諾 The time corridor That love letter

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