i cannot, cannot say enough about molly’s book, a homemade life. do you want to know how much i cannot say enough about this book? it came up in conversation about five times today. i work in the public service, for the record.
i cannot say enough about it, because i swallowed it whole. there wasn’t much chewing involved and it went down easy. enough with the food analogies. it was incredible. i did not put it down for three hours. for three hours, from midnight until three in the morning, i read. and read. and read. oh, and for good measure, i read.
i woke up in a bit of a haze, partially because of the severe lack of sleep, but also because i had read more prose than i can recall in the last four years in a mere three hours.
so, please, go out and get it. it’s in paperback.
i came home tonight, to find that the husband was out, and that dinner was mine to be conquered. molly writes about how much she loves eating alone, and i’m a bit the same. as much as i love the performativity of food, i also like to relish in the moment, knowing that i’m creating whatever i desire, and no one’s pleasures come into play except mine.
so, i went for a jog. along route, i picked up a bunch of kale, cherry tomatoes, radicchio and bread from my favourite bakery. i jogged the rest of the way home, and thank god, i didn’t sweat on the food. too much information? i thought so.
anyway, the kale went into a pan with some oil and garlic, the cherry tomatoes into the oven (350F) and the radicchio to the chopping board. to the kale i added the juice of a lemon and some smoked sea salt and let them carmelize a bit and go a bit soft.
i douced the radicchio with still more lemon juice and a bit of oil, and mixed it with the kale and tomatoes.
it was killer.
ps. this also means i can scratch #7 off the list. because, yes sir. reading that book was pleasurable.