This is the view to which we awoke every morning last week in Italy: crystal-clear sky, cerulean sea, sun streaming through the windows. If I’m very quiet, I can recall the sounds of crickets, a soft breeze and the distant shrieks of children already on the beach. While it was heavenly to relax and enjoy the early sights and sounds of Amalfi, Andrew and I never lingered too long in our room of a morning. We had breakfast to attend to. Read more…
My friends, it’s been too long. Nearly ten days with no recipes for you, and no farmer’s market visit for me. Frankly, I don’t have a great excuse for my absence. A dash of illness, a sprinkle of work, a smattering of melancholy and a good dose of culinary disinterest affected both my time and inclination to blog. Read more…
I’m the kind of person who can eat anything for breakfast. While I love sweet treats like sticky buns, home-baked scones or granola, I’m just as inclined to reach for something savoury of a morning. I know people for whom this would be impossible; anything remotely salty passing their lips before noon results in stomach aches and dramatics. Oh well, more for the rest of us. Read more…
This morning’s breakfast, made with the leftover danish pastry dough. Otherwise known as perfection. Read more…
