Road Bacon
Plus deadlifting ferns, my favorite dip of all time, and finding a new version of yourself
Dear friend,
I deadlifted my hundred-pound ferns outside today, even though we’re far from our last frost date. They’ve fared well indoors, for the most part, but had begun to shed their little leaves all over my bathroom floor. (Whilst in the bath, I often knocked a leaf or two with my arm… only to find a dozen or more little leaves in the bathwater as a result.)
Luckily, the twelve inches of snow we received last weekend has already melted and we’re facing coming days of daffodils and hellebore and I, for one, am quite ecstatic to see green shooting up once again from the soil. ECSTATIC!
I’d like to think my sweet ferns will be happier outside, even if it is a bit chilly for their taste. From my bed where I am typing you this letter, I can see their long fronds moving with the evening breeze. For the first time in months, they’re getting to dance and play with nature… (I’m sure there’s a few spiders tucked inside who will also be happy to once again be outdoors).
Spring is a bit stark, perhaps even a bit harsh; but it also arrives with fresh air, and with new winds, and with hope.
Here’s the hoping the ferns are ready for her.
Road Bacon
Our oldest daughter, Georgia, is just a few short months away from getting her driver’s license. The first time I drove with her, I arrived at our destination with sweaty armpits and a pale face… though she did well in her efforts, I found the process of sitting beside her — fully out of control — to be absolutely terrifying. Luckily, those early days have passed and I am now able to ride along without nearly as much fear.
Hot tip though: when it’s her turn to drive, I often take snacks in the car. I find the munching and nibbling to not only boost my mood but also distract my ever-so-slightly from the harrowing task at hand. The more I eat, the less I panic.
Hence the plate of road bacon (and focaccia) that accompanied me into town… not only did I get to eat my breakfast on the way, but it also kept me cheery and optimistic about the braking capabilities of a 15-and-a-half-year-old.
“Do not ask your children to strive” by William Martin
Do not ask our children
to strive for extrodinary lives.
Such striving may seem admirable,
but it is the way of foolishness.
Help them instead to find wonder
and the marvel of an ordinary life.
Show them the joy of tasting
tomatoes, apples and pears.
Show them how to cry
when pets and people die.
Show them infinite pleasure
in the touch of a hand.
And make the ordinary come alive for them.
The extrodinary will take care of itself.
My VERY FAVORITE dip for everything
My friend made this dip for me years ago and I practically (and probably impolitely) almost licked the bowl clean. I’ve yet to find a vegetable that it doesn’t go perfectly with. I’ve also served it over a thick piece of roasted eggplant, sliced summer tomatoes, grilled chicken, and alongside pita bread. While the anchovy can be omitted, it adds a depth and umami to the dip that’s really wonderful. It’s best served chilled.
3 cloves garlic
1 anchovy filet
2 cups greek yogurt
⅓ cup tahini
Zest from 1 lemon, minced finely
Juice from 1 lemon (or to taste)
1 teaspoon black pepper
1 tablespoon extra virgin olive oil
Fresh garden vegetables, for serving
Peel the garlic. Mince the garlic and the anchovy filet together until they’re very fine, almost a paste.
Combine the garlic, anchovy, yogurt, tahini, lemon zest, lemon juice, black pepper, and olive oil together in a bowl. Use a fork to combine the mixture very well, ensuring no large pieces of tahini are left and the mixture is completely smooth. Season to taste with salt or additional lemon juice, if needed.
Enjoy immediately or store in the refrigerator and use as needed. It keeps well for 1 week.
Let there be light!
The sun, my dear sweet friend, has returned and I am so glad every time I get to see her. She peeks above the ridge now by the time I take my first sip of coffee and floods through the windows, bouncing off the citrus and olive trees that have long since been tucked away safely indoors through the worst of the winter weather.
To make a sweet spring even sweeter, Stuart came home a few days ago with a trailer full of fresh bark for me to mulch my pathways and finally cover the black plastic I’ve been staring at all winter.
Glory be! Guess where you’ll find me this weekend…
This week in the paid newsletter…
I shared with you on Tuesday some raw emotions regarding falling sick with the plague earlier this week… “Though I wouldn’t wish to have the plague, I do appreciate the way it all but stops the normal pace of life; a pace which I find, unapologetically, offensive. Stuart and I link arms and bolster each other’s spirits on the daily, reminding ourselves that such a pace cannot continue forever and that, someday, braces and piano lessons and Latin tests wouldn’t be a part of our world in such an intimate way, and there will in-fact be a future in which the density of life feels a little bit less… dense.
For a brief moment, I don’t exist to work or produce or earn. For a brief moment, I just am.”
Who are you in Italy?
Stuart and I have one final room available for our September Italian Retreat; which makes me want to ask you something.
Who are you in Italy?
Not the version of you that manages the schedule and answers the emails and keeps everything running. The other one. The one who lingers over dinners that stretch on for hours, wears her favorite sundress and oversized straw hat, takes photos among the olive trees, wanders through ancient cobblestone streets on the walk home, and remembers what it feels like to have nothing she’s responsible for.
You can learn more details about the trip, including the exact price, right here.
Come, release, relax. We’ll take care of everything.
Love,
PS: We are humbled and grateful for each of you.
Your daughter looks like a movie star from the silent era in these pictures. She’s going to be a striking young woman, a timeless beauty.
Georgia is just lovely. I think of her as being a little girl, but she looks like a grown up lady here!