First Supper

You might think that I come back from conferences wanting to get into the kitchen and make something rather fancy, something show off-y. But when I'm at conferences, I eat out every meal so when I come home, I prefer to get back to the basics, to cleanse my system, to keep things simple. So my first meal back from the IRA conference was Ina Garten's Mâche* with Warm Brie and Apples (which I also made here):


It was exactly what I needed. I also found some ramps at the store so I fried those up in bacon fat ('cause that's how I roll):

But it's not just about food. It's about being in my home, about conversation, about sharing with my family and friends - that's what I miss most when I'm away. So let me set the scene for you and let you in on what sort of things the Lutz family talks about at the table after I've been gone for a week:

A family sits around the table eating dinner: a man and a woman, in their 30's and rather dashing, and a darling young girl, about 8 years old. The young girl has studied some art at school, which informs the family's conversation.

Woman: There was a Matisse exhibit at the Art Institute during my conference. It was torture! Every day I drove by the museum on my way to the convention center and the Matisse signs just taunted me. But you know how conferences are...

Man: But don't you think it'll come to New York?

Woman: Maybe. I'll keep an eye out.

Man: Which reminds me, I still want to see that Picasso exhibit before it leaves the Met.

Girl: I want to see it! I love Picasso. He's my third favorite.

Woman: Your third favorite?

Man: Who are number 1 and 2?

Girl: My first is Eric Carle. My second is Mo Willems - I love him. And then Picasso.

And there you have it, folks. Carle, Mo...and Picasso.

Eat, drink, and do both en famille.


NOTE: Unlike my previous attempt, I was actually able to find mâche this time. It was really wonderful - super delicate and light - and I highly recommend that you snatch it up immediately if you see it at the store.

Illustrator Magic

I am not an artist. That needs to be disclosed right off the bat.

But that does not prevent from appreciating this:

This is from Matt Phelan's blog, Planet Ham. Like I said, I don't know anything about drawing, but it seems that capturing this sort of action would be really difficult for an artist. The sense of movement is completely gorgeous - I can just envision, a second after this moment was captured, the boy catching the football and cheering, a big smile on his face.

It's so simple and yet, out of this, I get childhood, innocence, summer, joy, laughter. And I love the ability of an artist and an illustrator to make me feel that way. Bravo to Matt!

Bright colors in the middle of winter

I’ve been wanting to talk for days about Educating Alice’s post about Christo and Jeanne Claude’s The Gates in Central Park. At the time, Monica took her class on a series of field trips to the gates, and she includes some magical photos in her post. They’re the perfect pictures to cheer you up when the weather is cold!

I was still living in Arizona when The Gates were here and, even on the other side of the country, I was hearing and reading stories about how jaded New Yorkers were poking fun at the art installment. Snickering at it*. All of it I gave little attention to because I was living in Arizona…and I had never even been to NYC at that point. Monica’s post let me see how much I was missing, and it reminded me of the importance of art, creativity, and beauty in children’s lives. I only wish my daughter had seen The Gates – she would have loved it.

Truly, I can’t put my finger on why I feel so inspired by Monica’s story and her photos. Perhaps it’s because I just finished ranting about the deprofessionalization of libraries. Perhaps because I’m wintered out. Perhaps it’s because I feel like my daughter’s homework consists mainly of drilling her in “math facts” and leveled reading. Perhaps because it reminded that I wasn’t looking through the eyes of a child enough.

The glorious thing, though, is that sometimes even New Yorkers – and, especially, the children growing up here – can be inspired by bright swaths of orange in the middle of a gray winter. I can hardly wait to read Jan Greenberg and Sandra Jordan's Christo and Jeanne Claude: Through the Gates and Beyond!

Thanks to Monica at Educating Alice!

* See this blog dedicated to The Gates.