It's been a couple of years since I lived in Seattle. I know, deep down, that I love the rain. I love to skip around in it and let it cleanse and refresh my face and spirit. I love the dragon-scale sheen of silver it imparts to all it touches. It's taking a little while for me to be convinced of that. Rain here makes me want to Drink Tea and Bake/Cook Stuff.
|Don't look at the shoes, Amelie... just look at meeeeeeeee...|
As a plus, we've been eating very well in the last two weeks... I would venture that we've eaten more home-cooked meals in the past two weeks than we did in a typical month in Chicago. And wasted far less food. Our refrigerator is very small, and we have no freezer, so we do grocery shopping on an every-other-day basis and take care of leftovers. Thus far we've supped on two blended soups (Broccoli-Leek and Sweet Potato-Apple), Split-Pea soup, Cod soup with potatoes and chorizo, Gouda-Onion bread, and a meatloaf with roasted rosemary potatoes. We've done a couple of casseroley things with pasta and leftovers. And appreciated various wines throughout.
The most dangerous baked good to emerge from our toils has been these "Pop Tarts," filled with Ginger-Rhubarb jam purchased from the Sunday Market at Westergasfabriek. Note the meticulously fork-tined borders. That handiwork is all Ed.
We have a half marathon this Sunday. We're tapering like the pros.
Last week, I met with a new Dutch friend in Westermarkt (not to be confused with Sunday Market in Westergasfabriek) for apple pie and koffie. Appeltaart here is a whole 'nother beast from American apple pie. Call me a traitor, but I prefer this version. The crust is about a half-inch thick, crumbly, and semi-burnt with brown sugar. That's all I need to know.