Being home coaxes out the nostalgia in me. Looking for something in my old room or on the family computer becomes an exercise in distraction, a trip down 21st century memory lane as I click through scores and scores of old pictures, ultimately forgetting what led me to my room or the computer in the first place.
I don’t have a recipe today, but I do have a little nostalgia for you. Consider it photographic sustenance, to tide you over. Remember way back when, when I first started this thing? I was tripping over words, attempting grand mission statements for this blog, and I told you about this one picture, perfectly illustrative of my own pickiness as a little girl. I came across that picture recently.
There I am. Since, I have realized that food is much more than a lunch-box filler, sandwiched between two pieces of white bread, but I did know a few things in those days. Chiefly, that the only proper way to show your appreciation for a good peanut butter sandwich is to have pieces of it left behind on your face afterward. Also, that the only thing better than a good meal is a good nap immediately following a good meal.
I believe in eating with purpose, and with food on your face for good measure, if that’s what does it for you. Perhaps part of me is still that awkward eight year-old, with an irrational fondness for pb&j and a secret love for purple pajamas. This picture reminds me of those things, of youth, of starting this little space, and so I wanted to share it with you.
Note: stay tuned for Greek food. I have been churning out pita in my kitchen (even though the heat here has rarely felt the need to dip below ninety), an action which, to be sure, is a certain kind of martyrdom in the name of Mediterranean flatbread.