Tofu gets a really bad wrap, which is not at all deserved. I understand that there is a legion of people actively working against our palates, trying their damnedest to make sure we think it’s gross, but I no longer listen to them. I have learned, reader. A soft, barely cooked chunk of tofu is not the height of gastronomy, and I most assuredly would not take part of it, but when properly baked or sautéed, it is transformed into a miraculous thing. I’ve taken to pressing the excess water from a block of tofu, cutting it into thin squares, coating with olive oil and seasonings and a bit of cornstarch, and then baking until brown. Then I stick them in the refrigerator. This is a step that I discovered on accident, but a spell in the cold really firms them up delightfully. To serve, I make some rice and then sauté the tofu in sesame oil. It’s beyond good. It’s fabulous. Give tofu a try, reader; I think you might just love it.
Every winter I complain about the weather. I complain for hours on end. It’s a tradition. If my bitter comments were somehow converted into a tangible thing, there would be enough to build a museum dedicated to my disdain for the cold season. The days are finally starting to warm up, and I could not be more thrilled! I spent every day of the weekend outside walking and walking and walking and walking all over the place. I tidied the yard and I drank espresso on my boardwalk and I spruced up my vineyard. If this were August, I’d be shivering to death, but right now the fifty-degree weather feels like absolute heaven. I think it was actual heaven. Today it is going to be close to seventy-degrees and I could honestly not be more thrilled. There is something so delicious about the sunbeams caressing your face, the fresh air in your lungs, and the ability to finally get out of the same rooms you’ve been cooped up all winter. I am antsy now at work in my excitement to head out on another walk. Spring is so close, and I love it. The winter wasn’t particularly bad this year, not for me, at least, which I found odd. Spring is so much better, though; it means that Eurovision and summer are close at hand.
LIGHT OF A CLEAR BLUE MORNING:
As you well know, Dolly Parton is one of my favorite people currently on the planet. I will always remember with great fondness the concert my sister and I attended at the 02 Arena last summer in London. There is something awfully special about singing “9 to 5” with thousands of British people. The accent gives the song a certain charm. Dolly’s career is seemingly endless, stretching back interminably into the past and endlessly on to the future. She is the queen of country, and I worship the air she breathes. Because she has written and sang and released so many songs, it isn’t particularly unusual to discover a new one that I’ve never heard. Such was the case the other day when “Light of a Clear Blue Morning” came on my shuffle the other day while I was out on one of my lengthy walks. It started off simply enough, Dolly warbling about her life being kind of glum and unpleasant, but then the instruments kick in and we are having a good time! The chorus is ecstatic and hopeful and certainly religious, and I adore it. Nobody warms my heart like Dolly. She is perfect. I hope to see her again in concert soon. I would never tire of her sass or her hair or her saxophone playing or her voice or her innumerable charms. #dollyforpresident2016
DAYLIGHT SAVING TIME:
Even though it is dreadful for the first few mornings after the time change, I still think that this is the most fabulous time to be alive. Now, I am no supporter of the system; I think it should be on this time cycle all year. I don’t care about sunshine in the mornings during winter. I just want a bit of daylight to linger in the sky by the time I get home. Winter is so depressing. Thank Beysus we’re on the way to spring now. It’s going to be 72 (IN MARCH!) this afternoon and the sun is going to shine until after seven o’clock. I feel truly blessed. Having that extra hour of evening light is the greatest thing in the world. I am a bit less productive than usual (which is actually incredible as I am so rarely productive) because I’m out lounging in the vineyard, reading on the boardwalk, or taking lengthy strolls through the countryside. It’s fabulous. I am so happy. I shall petition Congress to destroy Daylight Saving Time and keep the current hours. I don’t know if we’re on it or off it right now. I don’t know if I should be hurling insults at the grave of Benjamin Franklin or not. But that’s not important. SUNSHINE!
PLANNING FOR WASHINGTON DC:
In less than three days, I’ll be on a plane making my way to the nation’s capital. I haven’t ever been there before, so I am looking forward to exploring another metropolis. It’s not a huge city, but it’s a city, and I need to be in cities as often as possible for my sanity. There’s something wonderful that happens in places where I can be surrounded by a million strangers. I feel more like myself. I don’t talk or acknowledge the people bustling by, but I take comfort in their existence. Don’t ask me to explain why this is because I couldn’t tell you. Maybe it’s because I’ve spent the majority of my life in the countryside? I don’t mind too much living on a country estate with rambling gardens and endless expanses of sky, but it’s great to sniff a bit of smog and run the risk of getting jacked for your bling on your way to dinner. I have been having the nicest time planning for my trip. I still can’t really figure the city out. It has never been one of the places I’ve always wanted to go. I’m just visiting to see ANGELA LANSBURY! She is my queen and everything. I also have a tour of the White House, but beyond those two things I don’t have any definite plans. I want to see a Gutenberg bible, Arlington, and hopefully a couple cherry blossoms will be out. Other than that, we’ll see. I don’t even see that many restaurants that I want to try. I will have fun no matter what, though. I always do when I’m away from the farm.