Simple Joys
This spring it is simple joys that keep my spirit afloat as I navigate each day, uncertain where I am going. When tired at the end of a long day at “the Lodge”—our name for Kit’s rehab residence—I drive home along a winding road that has suddenly been transformed into a fairyland of pink and white dogwoods drunk with the abundance of snow they have been fed this winter. Camelias and cherry trees line fences and shade yards of the small cottages on the residential streets above Nevada City. The day falls away as I climb the four miles up to our house and pull up next to our own dogwood in full bloom.
A month ago, the raised flowerbed beneath its crown was completely hidden under a massive pile of snow, but as April spilled into May the snow fed the roots of the dogwood and rhododendron bushes I feared would be crushed and I’ve been rewarded now with glorious blooms. It has been a year when early morning and late afternoon walks became impossible for Kit to manage.
But on a recent evening, I walked with my neighbor Carol and reconnected with the beauty of our crescent shaped road expressed in full bloom and bumped into neighbors Tim and Terri walking their Wire Fox terriers. While capturing the moment under a gorgeous pink dogwood, I vowed to plant one in our own yard before another day passes. I want spring to last for months, but it won’t. Nothing does. But for now, it is enough.
My gardens are now in two locations. Here at home, I will have tomatoes in patio containers and herbs in pots for easy access when I need to snip a few springs to add to whatever I am cooking. Unable to resist pots of pink margarite daisies, Spanish lavender, purple double columbine, and mixed-colored Cosmos at a nearby nursery, I suddenly had flowers to plant both at home and in the small patio outside of Kit’s room at the Lodge. One morning, the ground’s gardener left a large planter filled with potting soil for me without being asked. A simple gift on a day filled with hours away from my own gardens.
From afar, my friend Mary Sandy writes that she has just ordered a copy of Flora: Inside the Secret World of Plants, published in association with the Royal Botanic Gardens Kew—the subject of my May 12th blog. And Kit’s niece Helen penned a lovely letter that included the watercolor illustration that begins today’s blog.
From Rome, my dear friend Suzanne Dunaway reminded of her longtime friendship with author/editor Will Schwalbe who I wrote about in my blog last week. Will was her editor for No Need to Knead—her gorgeous cookbook about handmade breads written and illustrated at a time when few people knew how to make much less pronounce focaccia. Will was recently in Rome with his partner David and friends for a book expo. Suzanne connected them with Il Buco, a neighborhood restaurant she and her husband Don took us to on our last visit to Rome.
And speaking of simple joys and connections that bring friends from different times and worlds together, I just read a delightful recipe on The NYTimes Cooking that made me smile. Gabrielle Hamilton writes about the great C.S.A dilemma—What does one do with an abundance of beets and radishes delivered every other week? Included is a picture of a plate of spring radishes with greens attached, sweet butter, and Kosher salt.
Hamilton writes, “As is always the case with such a simple idea, success is in the quality of the ingredients. Cull any overgrown, cottony, spongy radishes, and keep the good ones fresh with ice and clean kitchen towel. Keep your butter at the perfect room temperature, and be graceful on the plate, please.”
Ingredients:
1 bunch red-globe or French breakfast radishes, well washed to remove any sand, but left whole with a few stems intact.
4 tablespoons excellent unsalted butter, waxy and cool but not cold.
1 tablespoon excellent coarse kosher salt
Preparation:
Step 1. Divide the radishes among small plates.
Step 2. Neatly cut the butter into 4 small portions and set on plates.
Step 3. Pile a small amount of salt on each plate.
The 51 comments by readers are as much fun to read as the recipe she provides. Anna commented: “This was a favorite my Polish father introduced to us…that evokes home and childhood these many years later.”
When I emailed Suzanne about the article, she immediately replied, “I’ve been eating radishes and butter for about …oh…45 years. The most famous of chefs, Brillat Savarin, after having cooked marvels at his restaurant years ago, sat down at midnight after work and ate radishes with butter, good bread, and a glass of La Tache burgundy.”
For me, the recipe triggered memories of a dinner with our son Hayden and grandson Nico at Lola—a fine restaurant in the historic National Exchange Hotel in Nevada City where this dish was among the delicious appetizers. Hayden and Nico shared a plate of radishes, butter, and kosher salt along with slices of the restaurant’s delicious bread.
Oh, the joys of spring and sweet connections with family and friends.