This post could easily have been “Color Story: Neutral” but that wouldn’t have said anything about the way it all feels. It almost feels “lazy” but that isn’t the right word at all. Not in this Life, anyway, in which laziness is a hard-won and well-deserved luxury. Today, everything is still. Gravity is evident. Thoughts have weight, too. New Year’s resolutions? I don’t know, perhaps. I’m still thinking about it. That, and how good it feels to be really quiet right now.
Spotted today on the road between Cravant and Auxerre: bare trees dotted with luxurious orbs of olive green mistletoe. A graphic designer couldn’t have done better. All the elements of good design respected in full. Balance. Pattern. Composition. Imbalance. Interruption. Geometry. Accident. Luscious though subtle color. And, surprise. On first glance, the winter landscape seems to offer little. On second glance, it offers so much more than enough.
[If you liked this post, you might also like “The Road Less Traveled By.”]
As this blog was meant originally to be dedicated to things that keep us happy, sane and enriched day in and day out, I couldn’t not give thanks, here, for this dear friend, who shepherded me into my own true adulthood. You met her in Cap Ferret…you saw glimpses of her on the Fourth of July. You saw her contemplate the sea. But she was there for everything, as dogs are. TV watching. House cleaning. Work. Child-rearing. Long walks with or without a mission. Cleaning up after meals. And all the emotions that punctuate our lives: happiness, loneliness, bliss, boredom, contentment. (No one could sigh contentedly and settle into a good, afternoon nap like she could.) I am missing her.
Wishing you a beautiful holiday season, full of warmth and simple happiness.
[Spotted today under the rain—school boys in their black and white uniforms inside the “Scuola-in-tram,” a tram that tours the city giving school children glimpses of their own history. Particularly love the wistful children staring out of the window past the Dolce & Gabbana poster that seems to take them as inspiration.]
Have a lovely day.
[If you liked this post, you might also enjoy “Happy Day, Happy Tram.”]
You know how certain objects (or maybe all of them) have a soul? How they call to you, give comfort, listen and ultimately share their lives with you or at least witness important—and incredibly insignificant—bits and pieces of yours? How they accompany you through the daily chores of living and the wordless moments of reflection? You know what I mean. I’m sure you have a story about a favorite cup (what could be more soulful than that?) or your first real fountain pen or the only bowl you can stand to eat cereal out of.
Here, I’d like to write a note of Thanksgiving to one of our most humble servants: the public bench. All those silent perches that sit patiently, obediently, waiting for us to place our bottoms on them as we ponder our next moves, check our grocery lists, or slip our hand into the hand of someone we love.
You know, the great—and I mean great—thing about Italian cookery is that it really doesn’t ask you to do very much. If you want to fuss about over your food and “create” “creations,” France is the place for you. If you want to put it on the table now and have it be fresh and delicious, the skinny peninsula might be a closer culinary match.
In home cooking, but also in some of the finest restaurants, you can order side dishes that are so simple it’s almost embarrassing. But that’s the point. The ingredients are intrinsically fantastic; all they ask is to be wed in holy matrimony, and that takes about 2 minutes. Tops. The ingredients I speak of are as follows:
1. Olive oil (the best you can get your hands on)
2. Freshly shaved parmigiano or grana padano (I use a vegetable peeler)
3. Scant balsamic vinegar, lemon juice or neither, depending
4. One very fresh, very crisp vegetable, thinly sliced. For example…
I have had this concoction in restaurants with raw, paper thin slices of Sardinian artichoke, fennel, and porcini mushrooms (delicious, but to be eaten in moderation as they are uncooked in this preparation). But the version that blew my mind was the one that put humble celery center stage. Celery! Sounds daft, but it was divine. Thinly sliced on the diagonal. Fresh. Crisp. Clean. Perfectly in balance with the bite of the oil and the salty grain of the cheese.
Now, I find myself craving this stuff. So, when grilling fish or meat at home, I often whip out one of these stupidly simple side dishes, and it’s often the smartest thing I’m putting on the table. Not to mention the most delicious.
Nothing like a walk first thing in the morning to get the kinks out. And the caffeine in. The rain stopped yesterday, so today was all about saturated colors and scant glimpses of blue in a decidedly autumnal sky.
I take this opportunity to share another Milanese blog with you. “Thoughts at Walks.” Someone else who loves to walk and photograph what they see. Perhaps our paths crossed today and we didn’t even know it. Such is the blogosphere.
Monday
“Transition/Color Story #8: A baguette travels to Italy”
In which a baguette adorns the dashboard
from Burgundy, France to Milan, Italy.
(Read this.)
Tuesday 1
“The voting results are in!”
In which we reveal the results of The Daily Cure
straw poll, Ã la Harry’s New York Bar, Paris.
(Read this.)
Tuesday 2
“Postcard #18: All funning aside”
An Italian take on an old American character:
Uncle Sam wants you.
(Read this.)
Wednesday
“La Cartoleria”
On the place where all things paper still
reign supreme: The Italian stationer’s shop.
(Read this.)
Thursday
“Some advice from the ladies”
Some words of wisdom for Mr. Obama
from some of the most inspiring women I know.
(Read this.)
Friday
“Oh, olive trees”
On the simple beauty of being
among the olives.
(Read this.)
I was going to write about the formal “you” in Italian and about the many times I’ve embarrassed myself by slipping, American-style, into the informal version, but it’s Friday. Who needs the finer points of language today? I don’t. I think I’d like today to be a day without any words at all.
I just want to feel peaceful and warm. That’s all. I want to feel like things are simple and easy. Good and hopeful. I want it to be early summer; I don’t feel like wearing a coat. I think—yes—I think I’d like to be in among some olive trees, looking up into silvery leaves and dappled light. I’d like to feel like time didn’t matter for a moment.
That’s what I’d like…and you?
The Daily Cure 