Each year for our lab holiday party, I am politely asked ordered to bring in what has come to be my signature dish -

Low fat chocolate truffles with apricot and cayenne pepper.

The night before, then, is a sticky melty mess of various baking chocolates, apricot goo and cayenne pepper going up my nose.

But the results are pretty tasty, if I do say so myself.

Happy turkey day. Even if you don't eat turkey.

I sent off my Father's Day package Priority Mail, with plenty of time to get to its destination.

It contained:

One card, carefully selected. It's hard to find ones that have just the right sentiment - respectful without the 'you're the best dad ever!' fawning - because he wasn't. Fifties-style fathering - grades, chores, done.

And two pairs of SmartWool socks (Standard Hiking variety, muted gray color preferred), because I know he likes them. And he doesn't like too many things. Especially if they're things I'm interested in. We don't seem to have too much to talk about. The overlapping bits of our particular Venn diagram contain very little right now, save high quality socks.

This is what I can tell you.

My father has blue-gray eyes. Summers growing up were spent with his grandmother, who had a vegetable garden that was the stuff of legend. He had a pet raven and a pet rat. The rat's name was Squeaky. He was very handsome when he was younger - a Harrison Ford lookalike. He signed up to fight in a war. He bought his parents a house, even though he was a mere construction engineer to everyone else's loftier careers. He won a lot of sharpshooting contests. He sold his motorcycle when my mom got pregnant. He saved every one of the handmade cards I made him as a kid. He has cried only a few times: when his father died, when his brother died, and when our German Shepherds died. When he worked on the Big Dig, he saved all the old bottles from Bostons past, instead of just letting them get crushed beneath the heavy equipment. He enjoys building things. So far there is a complex irrigation system to keep the basement from flooding, a brick-floored sunroom, an inground pool, and now a giant garage to house all of his many toys. He is more outgoing to and forgiving of strangers than his family. We haven't spoken in months.

Who is my father, and how can I not really know much more than this, after 26 years?

Well, there's one more thing...

he likes good socks.

for mah peeps

You have to see this. Be sure to click on the slide show.

I want you to know
one thing.

You know how this is:
if I look
at the crystal moon, at the red branch
of the slow autumn at my window,
if I touch
near the fire
the impalpable ash
or the wrinkled body of the log,
everything carries me to you,
as if everything that exists,
aromas, light, metals,
were little boats
that sail
toward those isles of yours that wait for me.

Well, now,
if little by little you stop loving me
I shall stop loving you little by little.

If suddenly
you forget me
do not look for me,
for I shall already have forgotten you.

If you think it long and mad,
the wind of banners
that passes through my life,
and you decide
to leave me at the shore
of the heart where I have roots,
remember
that on that day,
at that hour,
I shall lift my arms
and my roots will set off
to seek another land.

But
if each day,
each hour,
you feel that you are destined for me
with implacable sweetness,
if each day a flower
climbs up to your lips to seek me,
ah my love, ah my own,
in me all that fire is repeated,
in me nothing is extinguished or forgotten,
my love feeds on your love, beloved,
and as long as you live it will be in your arms
without leaving mine.

-Pablo Neruda

Look what we have here...

even Pitchfork shares my soft spot. Even the snobbiest of snobs are not immune to the charms of Charlie Brown.

cyclical + subliminal

Over the past few days:

It's gotten colder. Makes a girl much more into the idea of staying in, cozying up, developing some recipes, dipping into a well-stocked pantry.

(Enjoying some tea - my box of Pixie Mate is almost cashed!)

Commence the Trader Joe's run.

As per usual, pick up several TJ's items that have not been tried, including one Black Raspberry lemonade.

Get home, try out said lemonade, get blasted to past by distinct memories of your Snoopy Sno Cone Maker and your favorite cherry ice flavoring.



Enjoy nostalgia.

That makes holiday events attended this week better than tolerable. Continue usual tradition of aimless 'holiday shopping'.

Find new remastered copy of A Charlie Brown Christmas at Sound Garden.



Immediately buy and take home. Fall in love (again) with jazz of your childhood. Maybe the childhood I wish I had, but none the less.

Staying in + nostalgia....perfect.

Post-prandial posting:

The only way to properly follow up a satisfying Thankgiving meal is simply to keep on the same decadent, epicurean path. As we discovered tonight after the symphony, some very good dining can be had at Sotto Sopra. Northern Italian with a hint of French influence. Gorgonzola and lamb risotto to die for. ( I know, I sound like a bad rest. review. I'll do better next time.)

Science rock star Steven Pinker sets the Harvard Committee on General Education straight here. Nice.

Black Friday shopping - I'm so not the type that gets up at 4 am for a discount DVD player. But Belvedere Square had a fun evening event. Before dinner and a bottle of pinot noir at the beautiful but untimately doomed Taste, I found some gorgeous Snow & Graham letterpress holiday cards to send to the very nearest and dearest.

And so it begins.

The sea creatures above are from Egg Press.Very cute, no? All the fab stationery I've been finding lately gives me grandiose ideas of starting up my own teeny tiny sophisticated and particular little design firm. Finding the perfect name is half the battle.

grazia

I am grateful for:

• Healthy pumpkin custard and the chinese five-spice powder that makes it so delicious.
• Good friends, whether in person or through email. My priceless network of laughter and tears and hope.
• A fascinating, challenging, ever-changing job.
• A father who just celebrated his 64th birthday in good health, and is persuing a project that makes him the happiest I've ever seen him.
• A mother who loves me with all her heart, and overlooks our myriad differences.
• A little brother that (I think) is now ready and willing to listen to what I've already lived through.
• Roommates that are wonderful 97.5% of the time, and annoying only 2.5% of the time.
• A city that forces me to be humble.
• An affable mechanic who fixed my car for a fair price.
• Down comforters in drafty houses.
• A pretty kickass farmer's market. And Honeycrisp apples.
• Non-profits I believe in.
• The chance to put the dark blue Japanese sauce cup I didn't care for to a new use: to hold the little bar of Lothantique soap that I fall in love with all over again each shower.
• Turkeys. No, not to eat - the real, live, goofy looking, goofy-sounding thing. They never fail to amuse me.
• The ability to put the past behind me. To acknowledge my regrets without allowing them to paralyze me. To disable the intentions of those who wish me harm.
• The many lessons I've learned, from the many mistakes I've made.
• A future I look forward to.
• The love in my life.