Tonite's the night. I reached my goal...100 posts. Conceptual creations are luring me away from the computer and the temperature has risen a few degrees too high to be firin' up the oven every day. So for my last representation of food, I am baking a savory potato onion tart. I stopped by the cook shop after work and bought a rectangular tart pan and since the cook shop is next to Nirmal's Indian Grocery Shop, I popped in and said hello, hello and purchased one extraordinarily large bag of potatoes. I'm gonna get cookin' so I'll be back with a picture in about an hour or so... TaDada Tart baked, dinner's ready and I'm outta here.
Just finished reading Julia Child's My Life in France and became enamoured with scrambled eggs French-style. Beat eggs lightly, pour in buttered pan, low heat, let sit, push around, when custardy add cream and your fav filling, stir a bit and serve. Manifique! 
I could smell it as soon as I opened the door...Rebecca's crumbly vanilla-y blueberry peach cobbler wafted its sweet warm bubbly scent throughout the house. And that's only the nose, you can only imagine what it does for your taste buds! One forkful turns into two, into three, until half the pan is gone and you wish you had room for more! 
Cleaning my dresser is quite the adventure. Unearthed grocery shopping lists reveal mysterious ingredients like 40 cloves of unpeeled garlic for a no doubt savory chicken dish. Computer printouts decipher foodie code for passata:sieved tomato pulp. Uncovered buried maps direct me to treasure spots like the Hog Island Oyster Farm. Book Marks from Lemon Tree Pottery in Brewster on Cape Cod (where I bought a local Cape Cod cookbook only to open it up and discover a picture of my brother with his world record striped bass) turn up from beneath the heap. Finding yet unprinted black and white negatives from drives to the "country" (only 20 minutes away) remind me that losing things for a while holds the secret joys of rediscovery. 
God, I smell like potting soil. Yum yum. Decided to make some mosaic pots and fill them with wierd plants that I bought with Susan at Home Depot. Another recycle reinvent fun project to keep up the humor. Hope to do alot more pots because it's just a great word and a great smell and Ricki Raven and I decided today to call them SHIT POTS.
I hesitate to term this cardboard basket my "new work" but I've had that crazy needling urge to break out the imagination and get down to grab it, make it, use it. Needed a vase for the 4th, found some cardboard, cut it, wove it, stapled it, plunked in a jar and filled it with blooming buddies. Freedom.
Pretend you are out in the woods with this Oh Boy Breakfast. Hearty corn maple pecan waffle topped with yesterday's chili and a fried egg and cheese. I can lick the smokey mountain mornin' 
dew.
Chili chicken over black beans and roasted vegies. Can't wait for left-overs (if there are any remains of the day.) Fried egg over chili for breakfast and spicy chicken, colby, avacado, sliced tomato, and bacon for hot lunch as a grilled panini on crusty bread or wrapped in a fresh tortilla. 
The white curtain rises...
Snow-covered peaks! 
Our favorite ginger chicken salad inspired by a dish served at a small corner Vietnamese French cafe in Los Altos. We always toast up our own irresistable croutons and hope they are not all snitched directly from the pan before we can toss them into the crispy, crunchy, gingery salad.
