Dearest Mother Nature,

I am a big fan of your work–Brandywine tomatoes? Genius! Basil, rosemary and lavender? Amazing. Tulips, lilacs and forsythia? Lovely. So, it’s with the deepest appreciation that I write to you. Really, I think you are great at your job.

But recently, I’ve been really concerned. You’re erratic behavior lately has me downright worried. The late start to summer was so disappointing. And I don’t just mean because of the incessant rainy days. The impact was felt all through summer as tomatoes made scarcely any appearance here in Connecticut.

After that let down, I thought you would make it up to us with a drawn out conclusion to summer. I don’t know why, but I thought maybe we’d have some warm days into late October even … but no. No, instead you decided that October 15 was the perfect day for the season’s first snow.

Seriously, Mother Nature? We’re weeks from Halloween. This is when we should be wearing light layers and considering fleece while we pick apples and take hayrides to collect pumpkins. Instead, we are using gloves and winter coats while we shield ourselves from the biting wind. What gives?

Look, you are a smart, competent, lovely woman. You are strong and confident. But these past few months have been a blur of confusing and aggravating  behavior. It needs to stop. If you could find it in your heart to bring back the pleasant temperatures, that would just be awesome.

Best,

Sarah

When I heard the news this morning about Conde Nast’s decision about Gourmet magazine, I was heartbroken. Gourmet is the apex of quality food writing – having lived, breathed and exuded all things food since 1940. It treats food and food writing as an artform. The magazine shares international culture in a vivid and ever-fresh way (look at the back issue from years ago at right — Grilling Around the World in bold).

But the magazine is much more than just wonderfully linked words. The breathtaking photos take you into cultures and customs you might otherwise not know about — whether it’s a celebration in New Jersey or ceremony in another country. Editor Ruth Reichl has led the magazine with honesty, integrity and grace for the last decade. What will we do without her, and this amazing tome?

I feel like the world of food writing has been pillaged and robbed by this decision. We aren’t just losing a magazine, we are saying goodbye to an old, reliable friend … a best friend. We are losing our grasp on elegant food writing, and replacing it with accessible, easy, fast … how sad.

Don’t get me wrong: I love Bon Appetit and am glad it was spared. But it’s a bittersweet gladness at best. The sister publication, aimed at a younger crowd, is my book of choice for actually trying new things. The recipes offer a sense that anyone can make them whether it’s homemade mayonnaise or some layered dessert … Every month, I devour Bon Appetite, eagerly reading Molly Wizenberg’s column and excitedly thumbing through recipe after recipe.

That doesn’t change the fact that I love and revere Gourmet. I am as much likely to cook from Bon Appetit as I am to read every single word – every caption, story and note – in Gourmet. It’s fresh. It has a world-as-local view that I love. And the photos give you so much more than just a look at food.

I think Conde Nast made a huge error in shuttering this amazing food magazine. And we can only hope that enough voices rise up and scream NO! and give them reason to change their minds. Conde Nast: I am screaming NO!

Gourmet is dead. Long live Gourmet.

What is your reaction to the news?

UPDATE – 3:17 pm, 10/6/09: Gourmet Tastemasters, a reader’s panel for the magazine, sent this email around this afternoon:

Dear Gourmet Tastemaker,

It is with great sadness that we announce the closing of Gourmet and Gourmet Tastemakers, effective immediately.

As a member of our reader panel, you have been an invaluable asset to our editors, our promotional team and our marketing partners. We very much appreciate your insights and your time over these years.

Thank you.

Your friends at Gourmet

So, what was it? Starbucks has just launched Via, an instant coffee. Yea, I know. You are probably smacking your lips in disgust and shaking your head. I have some wonderful memories of traveling in Europe that are dotted with drinking way too much horrific NesCafe instant coffee … blech. It had this burnt, dirty taste that still makes me cringe.

The strange thing was that when I tried the Via, I actually liked it. It won’t replace the brewed coffee that my husband makes me every morning (thanks, honey!) and it won’t stop me from occasionally feeding my nonfat Caramel Macchiato habit. But it’s good and I wouldn’t hesitate to make it when Shawn forgets to brew me coffee once in a while.

Back to the event. It was held at Craftbar – one of Tom Colicchio’s New York spots. Sadly, I didn’t see Tom, but believe me, I looked. I have a huge chef-crush on that man. Seriously. That smile …

I digress.

The food, which came straight from the Craftbar menu, was out of this world. The mixed greens salad might have looked simple, but the shallot vinaigrette was extraordinary. I want that recipe (Tom, dear, would you send it over? If only it were that simple). I don’t even know that I can adequately describe the flavor — it was slightly sweet, full and salty, in a very good way. I could have stopped eating there and been a very happy woman … but I am glad I didn’t.

For my entree, I had Fried Organic Chicken, Collard Greens, Watermelon and Picholine Olive. If you read New York Magazine with any bit of regularity, you probably know that fried chicken is the “it” food of the moment in New York. Well, I can tell you that this chicken was to die for … Every crunch just screamed with flavor. If I was at home, I would have happily picked up the bones and sucked every bit of breading off. It was just so good.

And dessert … oh, dessert. Olive Oil Cake, Black Mission Fig, Rosemary Ice Cream, Pine Nuts … Swoon. First off, I have never had figs before. Heck, I have avoided them. When I think fig, I think Newton’s and they aren’t my fav. So, I just don’t do it … except today. When it arrived, I nervously took a bite. Then another. Then another. Turns out I happen to love figs. Who knew? As if that’s not enough, the rosemary ice cream tasted of fresh rosemary just plucked from the home garden — and I love that flavor. And the pine nuts? Salted and lovely. The cake was lovely too.

I figured being that the year is about 1/3 over, now would be a good time for an update.

I also shared my New Years’ Resolutions, which are still in progress . . . I think I am close to checking at least one off that list. Yay!

100 Things
(I want to do)

1. Walk down the red carpet at a movie premiere
2. Be a best selling author
3. Publish an adult novel
4. Publish a children’s novel
5. Publish non-fiction
6. Write a recurring column
7. Appear on the Today Show
8. Be recognized
9. Visit Mayan pyramids
10. See Italy’s countryside
11. Eat sushi in Japan
12. Buy a home in Manhattan
13. Live in London, England
14. See Africa
15. Get my PhD
16. Get an MFA in Creative Writing
17. Go to J-school at Columbia
18. Teach a writing class
19. Be a professor
20. Give a commencement address
21. Sit on a Board of Trustees
22. Buy a bigger house
23. Pay for my children’s college education
24. Be a millionaire
25. Invest in real estate
26. Take a road trip with friends
27. Have lunch with Anna Quindlin
28. Have a clean house
29. Learn how to keep a clean house
30. Be in a movie
31. Make a difference
32. Be known
33. Write a cookbook – Accomplished 2007
34. Be published in a consumer magazine
35. Help others
36. Move back to New York
37. Have my own cooking show
38. Sit on the other side of the interviewing table (as in get interviewed myself) – Accomplished March 2008
39. Be an editor – Accomplished Sept. 2006
40. Have a successful freelance career
41. Learn to enjoy wine
42. …………………..to be continued

The 59th Street Bridge Song by Simon and Garfunkel could be the anthem for my life. I’m always on — from 5 a.m. when Paige wakes to nurse until 12:30 a.m. when I finish the last of my freelance work, I am going. I can’t say I am constantly giving 110 percent as I would like to, but I do my best. Between work, freelancing, raising two kids, trying hard not to neglect my usually patient husband, cooking, blogging, and working out, I don’t have time to get sick and often say as much.

This past week? I got sick. Really sick. Like praying to the porcelain gods sick . . . yuck. (If this wasn’t a food blog, I would share my beloved poem about love that I wrote my senior year of high school now. It has similar figurative language. My professor thought it was genius.)

I was tempted to keep going at full throttle for about, oh, a minute. But I was dizzy, sick and staring at the computer screen just made me sicker. Finally, I conceded defeat and took time off to get better. I needed it.

One thing I learned from taking that time off was that everyone needs to slow down sometimes. (Hello, captain obvious!) A student at a local university interviewed me recently and asked if all that I do on a daily basis was heading me down a road to burnout. I’d love to say ‘No, never!’ but truthfully, I don’t know. Perhaps. But not if I can remind myself to slow down on a semi-regular basis.

I plan on trying to have unplugged days on a pretty regular basis – no email, no cell phone, no blogging, no surfing. Mark Bittman wrote about this in the New York Times fashion section. He called it a virtual break and said that it was quite challenging to do once a week during his test period, but he did eventually remember how to – say – just sit quietly and read a book. Sounds like a nice thing to remember how to do, if you ask me.

Tomorrow? I’m taking that virtual break. Today? I have a lot of work to do, so that I am comfortable with my virtual break.

Food’s coming later, folks. Check back. I’ve got a killer recipe for you.

Do you make resolutions? I do. Every year. I don’t necessarily keep them every year though. Wish I could say that I did, but honestly like most people I fall away from the resolutions after a few weeks or months.

But this year is different. My resolutions are grounded in things that I really want and need to do to lead a healthier, happier life. That’s really important for both me and for my family. So, here they are in no particular order:

• Lose 50 lbs.: I know, it sounds like a lot but really it’s about 50% baby weight (which should melt away with just a bit of effort). The second 25 lbs will be the real challenge.
• See that darned cookbook published (and the wonderful sales that will follow).: I don’t have a whole lot of control over this one. My draft is done and it’s a waiting game until the publisher/editor returns it to me for corrections and whatnot. But, once it’s returned, it’s up to me to turn it around and approve the changes (and make my own).
• Successfully pitch a second cookbook.: I already have the idea, though it needs to be fleshed out a bit. Then it’s just a matter of pulling together the proposal.
• Buy a new, larger home.: Who doesn’t want this? But seriously, it’s a need more than a want for us. Our expanding family is quickly outgrowing the small house that my husband and I purchased when we got married. We definitely need some more room (and some more bedrooms so that the kids don’t have to cram into one).
• Buy a new, larger, safer, four-wheel drive vehicle.: A few months after graduating from college, I bought a new car that I could afford on my slim salary – a Honda Civic. Definitely not the best choice for New England where many snowstorms dot the winter. Nonetheless, I am still driving that car today after . . . several years. So, I think it’s time to bite the bullet and invest in a car that is safer for the kids and has enough room to meet our needs (have you ever tried to transport a family in a Civic? Not fun.).
• Potty train Will.: Again, self explanatory. But this is a need more than a want as well. Will is supposed to start preschool in the fall but can’t unless he is a potty-using big boy . . . heaven help us.

**BREATHE** It’s not that much, right? Totally obtainable. Really.

Other than that, I am just working for the weekend right now. Don’t get me wrong, I love my job, I just need a break. But vacation is coming so that should be a good relief.

On another note, I stumbled on a bank statement from five years ago over Memorial Day weekend. Boy, have I changed in five years. Five years ago, I was just beginning my career in journalism. I was sure I knew it all (I didn’t, still don’t) and wanted to take charge (still do). Five years ago, I was unmarried with no children. My income, which was less than half what it is now (perhaps a third even), went primarily to three things: food, shopping and my car. I paid more for insuring my car then I do now for insuring both my husband’s and my own. I went tanning regularly. And all the time, I thought I was broke (I didn’t know what broke was).

I can’t help but let the if I only’s creep into my head once in a while – if I had only saved some money instead of shopping and eating out so much (I honestly rarely cooked, because I didn’t know how to cook for one and was afraid to cook with meat). If I had only had the foresight to plan for the future.

I’m older, wiser, married and a mother now. I still spend more than I should (particularly on food, but it’s ingrediants now), but I also make a conscious effort to save money too. In five years, I would like to look back and think how smart I was to start saving. I would like to be in a good, stable financial place in five years.

Where were you five years ago? Where do you want to be in five years?

But after weeks of coverage of the tainted pet food that has killed countless pets from kidney failure, it’s come to light that the chemical pesticide that harmed the animals was melamine - the same chemical that is in the melamine resin that my son’s plates are made of. It’s bad enough that the harmful chemical has made it’s way into our food supply. But why isn’t anyone questioning this material’s other uses?

Melamine is something that has been widely considered safe. But even the FDA admits to be taken by surprise by the harmful effects of melamine additives on animals, according to NPR. Could melamine not be that safe after all? And if so, is the contact risk of using melamine plates an acceptable risk for my child?

So, I’ve done a touch of research. Melamine resin – the stuff plates are made of – is a compound made of the melamine chemical and another chemical, urea. It is more heat-safe than regular plastics, but can melt at high temperatures. And it’s not microwave safe.

So what then? Urea? Potentially harmful chemicals? It’s definitely an eyeopener. And honestly, with the risks of melamine in the food supply coming to light, I can’t help but have concerns that it’s not safe enough to eat off of either. I don’t care that people have been using it since the 60s. It’s just not an acceptable risk for my son.

I think it might be time to look into Corelle.

Still, to get that call that my cousin Grace Louise had passed on, I was caught without breath for a moment. Her words were alive in my mind. I had just been working on a chapter of the cookbook over the weekend that is based on our family cookbook, circa 1981. I had just been writing about Grace Louise, and other cousins.

Let me back up.

As a child, it was a yearly event. My family and I would pack into my grandmother’s station wagon and head north to the Cape (Cape Cod, that is). Each year, we would stay in the same blue motel across the street from the ferry landing. The Hyannis Holiday Motel. Each year, we would have breakfast at the dive across the street. And I would beg to swim in the motel pool (I love swimming . . . always have). But the point of the weekend trip wasn’t to check out the harbor or eat at the Hearth N Kettle (another yearly stop). The purpose of the trip was to attend our annual family reunion at Grace Louise’s home.

Our family reunion. It was a spectacular event. Family would fly in from the far reaches for the one day event. And my grandmother would be in her glory, surrounded by her beloved cousins. They were all close in age and had grown up together, living in the same house together from time to time. They were the epitome of close-knit. It was like they all really came alive together, sharing memories and stories of times past. And then there was the food . . . oh the wonderful food. Lobsters would be brought in, fresh off the boat, from Maine. And there would be hamburgers, hot dogs, salads . . . oh, the buffet seemed endless.

Grace Louise would make these adorable favors for everyone. One year, it was little clear jars with blue lids. A label read something to the effect of “Cape Cod air.” There were satchels and little pillows . . . I kept many of the favors for years and years (and think I might still have a few kicking around the beach house).

I was pretty young – maybe 10 or so – the last time we went. I think that was the year that I spent what seemed like hours playing volleyball with the cousins. Amid the sweat and exhausting, was the fun. It was so much fun.

It’s been ages since I last saw Grace Louise – at least 13 years (it was probably at my grandmother’s funeral, but I am not certain). In recent years, her memory began to fail, followed by her body. She was ready. It was her time.

How could I not take a moment of pause when I heard she was gone? My grandmother adored her and I adored my grandmother. You see the progression. I remember Grace Louise as a bouyant, happy, vibrant woman. That’s what she will be always be to me.

People come into our lives, and they slip away. But memories of your family built in childhood are precious and priceless because family is what you always have.

This was my dinner tonight. Leftovers from a weekend of recipe testing – cauliflower, Brussels sprouts, crispy catfish, a roll and a small chunk of brie, with a Diet Coke and a remote (of course, the remote wasn’t for eating — it was just me for dinner tonight with Shawn working and Will turning in early). I eat on luncheon sized plates so that I don’t overeat (though this plate was a bit overstuffed with all the veggies).

This was one of those meals that took minutes (since it was all precooked) and was really satisfying. Love that. And after eating, I quickly scanned my favorite blogs. It’s always interesting to see what others are writing about (and eating).

But there was one post that really stood out for me. Shauna’s post on Gluten Free Girl today really struck a chord. She wrote about how she doesn’t know why she writes her blog, but it’s a great joy in her life — so long as it’s for her, on her terms. I left a comment over there saying why I read it. In a nutshell: I am not gluten-free. I don’t have celiac disease. And though she has worthwhile and interesting recipes, I don’t look for them. I read her blog because her writing is inspiring. She has a magical way with words that I look forward to losing myself in, if only for a few moments a day.

My husband frequently asks me why I write this blog. He isn’t in a creative field, nor is he a writer. Each time he asks, I answer with “because I do.” I know it’s hard for him to understand why I would do something that he sees as work without pay or certain recognition. But writing is more than my career. Sure, I have been a journalist for five years and a writer for much longer. And sure, that is what pays my portion of the bills. For me, writing is not only my career, it’s who I am.

I am a writer.

Some people search for their careers, others are called to them. I was called to be a writer. One of my oldest friends and I were talking about careers the other day. He chose to go into engineering and said of his choice that it’s something he understands. For me, writing–words on the page–are what I understand.

But it’s more than that. I am a writer because I love writing. It brings me joy. It makes me complete.

Earlier this year, I pledged to give more of myself here and I think I have been doing that. Or at least I hope I have been. And that is what I am trying to do with my cookbook. I am trying to give more of myself in it. Like this blog, I hope I am succeeding.

Now, time to be disciplined and get to the book . . .