Creative cooking and living in the fertile Salinas Valley, east of Eden, along California's central coast
“I want a purple egg.”
East of Eden, John Steinbeck
Spring and Easter are all about new beginnings. For me that means trying something new; using my imagination to reach past self imposed boundaries and limits. Waking from winter hibernation there is a lethargy that lingers. Only a sunny, crisp spring day can shake off that last winter heaviness and push us out into the light.
“He lost track of time and he did not know how long he had been standing in the doorway.”
East of Eden, John Steinbeck
March arrived with a jolt of awareness that time was passing, quickly. The days of the calendar flirted with me. Pay attention to me now or I will pass you by. We hurl down the freeway of time as the miles melt away in the rear view mirror of yesterday. Just a tease, a fleeting glimpse as the calendar marks the miles traveled. A quarter of the year will soon be gone and there is so much I still want to accomplish.
“A man, after he has brushed off the dust and chips of his life, will have left only the hard, clean questions: Was it good or was it evil? Have I done well–or ill?”
East of Eden, John Steinbeck
The annual migration of the Monarch butterfly is fascinating. Each winter Monarchs on the western side of the Rocky Mountains migrate from as far away as Canada to Pacific Grove, Twin Bridges State Park and Pismo Beach along the central coast of California. Year after year they return to the same three areas. Here along the coast they find shelter and food from November to March of each year. A Monarch that winters in coastal California does not live to make the return trip the following winter. Five generations of Monarchs have lived and died during the course of the year. Scientists are unsure how the Monarch navigates to the same place year after year. They speculate that the earth’s magnetic field, the position of the sun or the Monarchs “internal clock” guide their annual migration.
“It was very warm for March, and the kite wind blew steadily from the south and turned up the silver undersides of the leaves.”
East of Eden, John Steinbeck
I found out where summer is hiding. It’s such a small thing but I am ecstatic! You can catch me buying greenhouse grown tomatoes during the winter. I just can’t help myself. I miss the robust flavor of fresh tomatoes in salads and most of all the sweet intensity of roasted tomatoes. At the grocery store I noticed a packet of sun dried tomatoes–just tomatoes, in a package similar to dried fruit. I peered in the small clear window to inspect the contents and then gave the package a hearty squeeze. The tomatoes were soft and a bright sunny red. I couldn’t believe I’d uncovered a glimpse of summer hiding at the grocery store!