Hello, November! Today seems like the perfect day to build a fire and cozy up with a book. But errands are calling. I have groceries to buy for an egg dish to make for my new granddaughter's christening brunch on Sunday morning. And I volunteered to iron the christening gown, handmade by my Great-Aunt over 66 years ago. It's made of fine cotton batiste, with hundreds of tiny stitches. There's a matching slip to go under the dress, all excruciatingly difficult to iron, but so lovely.
AND now, I'm excited to share more of the things in my kitchen. Be sure to check out the other bloggers who have joined with Celia at Fig Jam and Lime Cordial to give us a peek into their kitchens and their worlds!
In my kitchen ...
I have an enormous collection of recipes; handwritten on cards, torn from magazines, stuffed in a wooden box, crammed in drawers. And then there are my cookbooks! This recipe was given to me by my uncle, probably back in the 1970's. It's a link to him and to the past, and I treasure it.
In my kitchen ...
Trader Joe's Sun Dried Tomatoes. I love to add them to cheese stuffed ravioli. See recipe here.
In my kitchen ...
Trader Joe's Roasted Red Pepper Soup, perfect with grilled cheese sandwiches for a fast supper on a cold autumn night.
In my kitchen ...
Gun Flint Trail Wild Raspberry Jalapeno Jam, made right here in Minnesota and sold at The Bibelot Shops. This jam goes great in a turkey sandwich: toast sourdough bread, add sliced turkey from the deli (or even better, leftover Thanksgiving turkey) and melted swiss cheese, along with a dollop of this sweet, spicy jam for an amazing sandwich treat.
In my kitchen ...
Homemade Hot Chocolate, silky and rich and satisfying.
In my kitchen ...
An apple cranberry crisp (recipe here).
Finally ...
Back in 2008, Saint Paul artist-in-residence Marcus Young started an annual sidewalk poetry contest for city residents. I was one of the winners in 2009, for my poem November. You gotta love a city where poetry is that important! Below is a photo of the poem being installed on the sidewalk in front of my daughters house. My young granddaughter is adding her tiny hand print to the wet cement. In honor of the month, I am sharing my poem here with all of you:November
Autumn winds drag leaves from trees,
streets clog in a dreary finale.
Bare branches crisscross heavy skies.
Icy rain spatters, ink-blots pavement.
I settle at the window, stare
into thick black flannel, search
the woolly lining of the night for winter.
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