Eggs. Yes, fresh eggs. Kevin and Chip came to visit and brought us a dozen eggs from their flock (or is it a brood?). They are all named after female broadcasters (not to be confused with the previous generation, named for lesbian folk singers). I believe the green eggs are from Sylvia Poggioli. If that wasn’t enough, they also brought a bag of pink grapefruit.
It’s been a rough week. Real life can be like that. It’s not been the rock ’em sock ’em kind of rough, but the kind of week where you are off balance, and stuff just gets in the way of all that grace, love and gratitude we should feel just for being alive, warm and fed. Tonight there was the most incredible sunset on my way home from the studio. And you know what? It kind of pissed me off. Like the universe was saying “If you’re not going to feel grateful, let me show you something that will get your attention.” Sometimes I don’t even know what to do with me.
But these eggs…aren’t they beautiful? I did a little research, and then poached* them, first time ever. They were fantastic.
And yes, the nicest thing. See you next week, and I promise to bring my gratitude with me.
*Night one, on a bed of chard and spinach from the garden, sauteed with shallot and mushroom, topped with bacon, served with crostini, avocado and grapefruit. Night two, served on a simple salad of greens, scallion, avocado, grapefruit and crostini, tossed with a vinagarette, topped with bacon.