Wednesday, October 6, 2010

Thursday's eve

It is not yet 7pm and it is dark.

That happened fast.

I still feel as though we skipped a month. September. It feels like September. Did anyone else catch it as it flew by? So much is expected, many lines in the water, much waiting - I'm not good at that. Unless it's real water and real fish. But I have never been fishing. I always think I would like it, especially fly fishing. How would I be at thumping the fish on the head? Vincent has a Nick Adamsish story about the trout he caught when he was thirteen and in the French Alps, on a summer mountaineering camp. It was a solitary thing.  He caught it, he cooked it, he ate it, alone. He remembers that trout.

The roof was cold half an hour ago, when I went up to pick greens and tomatoes. A recipe at The Meal Husband caught my fancy and it seems a good way to use my semi ripe and quite green tomatoes, as well as the peppery leaves I collected.

The apartment is warm and for the first time in as long as I can remember this year that is a welcome thing. It smells of vanilla and cream and pastry - I am baking another flan, my version, this time (based on a Roux Brothers lemon tart sans the lemon), with lot of eggs,  lots of cream, some sugar and vanilla. We'll see how the Frenchie likes it. I think I may like it.

And while I blog and wait for the custard to set, I am sipping a pale green Chicago glassful of my new favourite wine, a Spanish Verdejo made by Paso a Paso, $12, and utterly wonderful. It is lightly wooded, which blew me away. I have said forever that I dislike wooded white wine (chardonnay PTSD). I could taste it at once. Actually, not true. I tasted it at sip three, because the first two sips were pure unanalytical enjoyment. The recognition of the wood threw me for a loop.

Tomorrow is Thursday and it feels 100 years away, and I think we have traveled as far since yesterday. I am Thursday's Child.


  1. Yes September flew by. I became a year older, stayed up too late, commented to myself how beautiful so many days were, wondered where the light was and then it was over.

    Now it's dark in the morning and chilly and sometimes rainy and then dark all over again.

    But it's good cooking weather.

  2. It is dark, fast. Thanks for asking 'where did it go' as I meant to, but didn't.

  3. aaahhh, wish I could smell and taste that flan.

    I agree that it's gone by way too fast. It's dark when I leave for work, I spend my day in a cinderblock office with no natural light, and soon it will practically be dark when I finally leave my cave.

  4. OMG! I totally know what you mean about September! :)
    Where did the heck did it go ?? :)

    Loved it!


  5. Well, Thursday Child, with Clairette de Die in the fridge, we should be all set...


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