OK, so technically, I’m not from Puerto Rico. It was my grandparents who sailed to the mainland in the early 1900s landing in Manhattan and Pennsylvania (not sure of the city). They carved lives, worked jobs and built families. Me – I’m a Newyorican transplanted to the Upper Midwest in the early 1970s.
I’m just back from visiting my Mom (now in assisted living in New Jersey) and my younger sister and brother. I never laugh as much as when I’m with them. It’s absolutely raucous. Always is. Cathy’s a great cook, brother Chris is a CIA-degreed chef. Both are married to great cooks and gourmands, so it was no surprise that they chose an over-the-top restaurant for our Saturday night out. Reyla, a modern Middle Eastern restaurant in Asbury Park, NJ exceeded expectations. Mutliple dishes dotted the table, each rooted in Mediterranean cuisine: Greek, Israeli, North African. The ingredients were fresh. The sauces distinct, layered and deeply flavored. The Italian wine proved a perfect complement. Joined by yet another family couple, the conversation was easy, the laughter frequent, and the joy evident. An evening to remember.
And now, I’m home. Ahh. The sun’s bright on the fields, and the cows are reclined on a south hill out of the wind. Soon I’ll switch on the tractor’s engine block heater and prepare to move a 1,000-pound bale of hay out to the herd. Then I guess it’ll be paper work for this coming season’s Bull Brook Keep beef sales, sourdough bread-baking classes, and the next Cowgirl High Tea.
Siggy
I’ll get to it in a few minutes. Right now, things are quiet. Dave is reading. Each of our three dogs has found his own shaft of sunlight, and I’m finishing up a cup of tea.
I’ll make my brunch, and then get a move on.
Today’s morning break: Blackeyed peas in a hoppin’John stew flavored with organic pork hocks, organic brown rice, Italian roasted red peppers, and a forkful of spicy kimchi. (Sorry, no photo. It just disappeared too quickly!)
Tomorrow: Israeli hummus and shakshuka.
