I’ve discovered that I much prefer narrative recipes to the usual ingredients + minimalist directions. I feel like I get a much better sense for the personality of the cook, and because of that, a much better sense for whether I’ll like the recipe or not. For example, see Nobody’s Fool’s Simple Vegetable Soup
For a more extended example, pick up a copy of The Laurel’s Kitchen Bread Book
(it should be in your library) and work your way through the “loaf for learning.” Each recipe tells you how to make the bread in question, of course, but also why you might want to, what it feels like to do it, and all the little things to do that will make it “just right.”
Maybe it’s the physical exercise of kneading. Maybe it’s the dough’s relaxed pace in rising; or its soft, taut, living warmth. Maybe it’s the gorgeous fullness of a risen loaf; or its smell fresh out of the oven. Or most of all, maybe it’s the hot, buttered, still-steaming-’cause-I-couldn’t-wait taste in my mouth. Bread is the most satisfying thing I’ve ever made.
Make some time for making bread. You won’t regret it.
Onions and chile peppers sprouted yesterday. So in spite of a foot of snow outside, the garden begins!
-2°C (28.4°F) As soon as I get complacent, thinking we’re on the home stretch, spring within reach, we get snow swirling in from every direction. Flakes of every size and shape plaster us 10 inches deep – our biggest storm of the winter.
Snow like smoke and ashes. A terrible conflagration, miles away, brought to our doorstep on violent winds. Maple buds so red they bleed into the gathering gloom. The birth of a new moon.