Black skies and light rain and a chill in the air: Why, it’s perfect, just perfect!
I saw one of my favorite people on earth this morning: She’s 25 years old, without support or family, and with no reason to hope. But she has this extraordinary vibe of resilience and empathy that, ironically, is reassuring to those around her. Today she spoke with grief about Friday’s events, and also of a murdered friend in Mattapan last year, and said that she just couldn’t get the children from CT out of her head. Then we talked about the 1964 church bombing and Coltrane’s song, “Alabama,” and then of Spike Lee. “I just want to be sure I’m one of the good people,” she said.
This got me thinking: Should I really make chanterelle soup tonight? Was it substantive enough?
So I threw the dice. Sometimes you just have to do what you have to do.
That’s right: Turkey chili with red beans.
Mind, this weekend in Boston, I saw so much offal and ground beef on menus that I wondered if that current marketing slogan, “Farm to Table,” should be changed to, “Cheap Cuts of Meat to Table Based on Lousy Business Plans by Chefs Who Can Cook High Fat But Could Not Cook a Vegetable if Their Life Depended on It.”
Then I realized: Way too long a slogan.