Kinfolk

(Photo by Laura D'art)

"We know from experience that our meals and relationships evolve in tandem: we form friendships over lunch dates, settle into traditional brunch spots with family, and share cups of coffee that sometimes turn into marriages. These everyday meals, moments, and places shape us both individually and collectively, but these pages serve as a reminder that our time together can be unfussy and uncomplicated—so long as it’s intentional." -Kinfolk website

Isn't that true?

- I fell in love with the Non-Scotsman somewhere between grilled salmon and a slice of chocolate cake.

- I met my college roommate over a cup of dorm-room brewed coffee.

- My dream of graduate school was confirmed over a steaming grougere.

The list could go on endlessly.

What about you? Where has your life been changed somewhere at the intersection of friends and a shared meal?

(Images courtesy of Kinfolk)

This is what I love about Kinfolk. The latest (3rd) edition is out and I am oohing and aahing over the way more than 50 artists join forces with a vision of "welcoming food, community, and simplicity" into the everyday. Writers, photographers, chefs, visionaries, friends.

Kinfolk just might be my "soulmate-in-print."

(Photo by Laura D'art)

My Peeps

It's interesting that one way we celebrate the resurrection of Christ is ... marshmallows shaped like chicks. Really?

You have to admit they're a tad bit adorable. In a way only yellow, gummy sugar can be adorable.

Out of my Goldfish Bowl

I felt a bit like this fish yesterday.

I could smell the salty sea, hear the orcas yell,

imagine the feel of the slimy sea kelp.

But I was caught in a small plastic bag of

details and duty on the beach.

How do I keep the space passion and purpose require?

How to jump out into the big open wild?

I imagine it looks a bit like this:

And reads a bit like this beautiful piece from a Frenchman:

"If you want to build a ship,

don't drum up people together to collect wood

and don't assign them

tasks & work,

but rather teach them to long for the endless immensity of the sea."

-Antoine de Saint-Exupery

Choose Your Own Adventure

You know you live somewhere wonderful when...

...on your walk home from work, you happen to hear live music coming from up the street. You're not in a hurry so you walk over to hear what's going on. It's kindof like living in one of those "Choose Your Own Adventure" books from 3rd grade. You decide to walk past the band and into a crowd, where you pass some angel handing you free oysters on the half-shell. Do you choose the Tobasco or the lemon? For lemon turn to page 13. (The angel was actually a man dressed in a freaky full-body oyster outfit - not sure where he got that one).

And then the man-dressed-as-an-oyster ushers you inside his shop and hands you a delicious fried oyster, and a boat of geoduck ceviche, which you actually decline in favor of the curried mussels. If you choose to decline the geoduck turn to page 78.

All I can say is, welcome to the neighborhood, Taylor Shellfish!

I decide to turn the page to go home, and upon arriving am charmed by bowls of fresh summer cherries.

Literally, cherries to top off free oysters. Oysters from my bay, and cherries from my terroir.

And this was all just on my walk home from work...the chapter 1 of my night.

3-D Sidewalk Chalk

Last week my niece's and nephew introduced me to 3-D sidewalk chalk while we were in Whistler.

Painting in color, I started to notice their bright shoes (which are always three dimensional). And I began to wonder: Why is 3-D such a big deal, given the fact that we live, move, and breath in 3-D?

(All photos: Whistler, July 2011)

A 2 Year Old & A Few Good Canadian Trees

Off she went, my little niece, into the woods.

She saw a bear...seriously. A black bear. In Whistler.

And this man protected her.

Bar Acuda : if you need another reason for a Hawaii vacation

I was in Kauai for the past few weeks, trying to squeeze every possible ray of sunshine into my pores and every bit of fresh seafood into my gut.

There are lots of reasons I already want to go back to the island: warm and crisp beaches, mysterious coastlines, and hikes through the wettest bit of land on earth. One place in particular calls me back: a recommendation from my gifted photographer friend, Bess Friday. She visited this spot on her honeymoon with one Mr. Peter Friday: aren't they beautiful!?

The place was up in Hanalei and called Bar Acuda - run by a past Food&Wine's Best Chef from San Francisco. Thank God his talents are intact after 15 years! I was immediately sold by the "Local North Shore honeycomb with Humboldt Fog goat cheese and crisp apple." DONE.

Oh, and i might have had this too:

I was enjoying myself too much to take photos, which is actually a good thing because it's so much more worthwhile to visit Bess's website for the beautiful run-down and photos - her talent will speak for itself:

Click here for Bess's Photos of Bar Acuda

Cheers! To the People Who Remind Us...

One of The Non-Scotsman's good, rowdy friends also happens to have a magic touch. He came up to visit in Seattle to see my man, of course, but also to rent an ancient camera: a 35mm Hasselblad.

This man shot some of my favorite things without any editing! He gave me a fresh vantage point above my life, where I am now standing with arms open wide, yelling "THANK YOU!"

My neighborhood joint:

My place of work:

My parent's backyard:

My husband and my views:

My new hang at Melrose Market:

And even me in my pearls, made by my dear friend Jessica Andrews:

(I actually was very happy here; although I look like I'm about to pounce)...

Cheers to Nate and his wife for reminding me how beautiful life is, remind me to look at the details, remind me to be thankful.

Merry Christmas Seattle!

A Bit of Motherland'ish Light

Light, in Italy, is simply different.

Italian light caresses the land...

(Assisi, 2010)

(Piazzale Michaelangelo at Sunrise, 2010)

(Assisi and olive branches, 2010)

(Pace de Assisi, 2010)

Adores the people in the land...

(Post-gelato lull in San Gimignano, 2010)

(A monk, 2010)

And generally does its best to show off.

(My Mysterious Non-Scotsman, Assisi, 2010)

Random Summer Fruit

(My first nectarine tart with cornmeal crust, 2010)

There's something in my nature that attempts recipes without having complete or correct ingredients in hand. I'd decided to try a little apricot vanilla tart with cornmeal crust (thank you to whoever gifted us with a Williams Sonoma cookbook for a wedding gift). Sure, the store had no apricots, and yes, I forgot the apricot preserves and maybe one or two other things. Never mind that, because I loved how my Nectarine-tart-with-strawberry-and-vanilla turned out on my somewhat-difficult-to-cut-cornmeal-crust. I had to bake it no matter what the recipe called for: I think it's that summer is clearly closing its curtain and I'm trying to enjoy every last sense of it.

As a tribute to the end of summer, I want to share with you the following excerp. It's a bit random (like my baking and md) and not about elusive apricots or dainty, thin-skinned nectarines, but a tribute to my favorite summer symbol of all: Peaches.

From Blossoms

by Li-Young Lee

From blossoms comes this brown paper bag of peaches we bought from the boy at the bend in the road where we turned toward signs painted Peaches. From laden boughs, from hands, from sweet fellowship in the bins, comes nectar at the roadside, succulent peaches we devour, dusty skin and all, comes the familiar dust of summer, dust we eat. O, to take what we love inside, to carry within us an orchard, to eat not only the skin, but the shade, not only the sugar, but the days, to hold the fruit in our hands, adore it, then bite into the round jubilance of peach. There are days we live as if death were nowhere in the background; from joy to joy to joy, from wing to wing, from blossom to blossom to impossible blossom, to sweet impossible blossom.

My Not-So-Scary Back Alley

If only all back alleys could get the Space Needle so perfectly situated at sunset...

(The view from my back alley at sunset, 2010)