Year of the Equus Ferus Caballus


In the beginning, I was here.

Then I was here.

And now I find myself here again: out of the polar vortex, into the snowdrift. No, there was no crash – it was a very smooth landing, in fact. The jet lag is gone and my affairs are in order as I ring in the Chinese New Year today. How, I’m not sure yet. It’s not anything I ever remember actively doing. There is no moon to howl at or dance under – it will be on the other side of the earth this evening when it gets dark. Which is soon, in fact. New moon, you know. Perhaps I’ll wear red to dinner, which if I am lucky may be Topfenknödel, or quark dumplings, and contemplate what awaits me in the year of the horse.

What awaits you, dear readers, is more regularly irregular posts about a wider range of topics than just food. For some time I have felt a bit constricted by my original intent to focus on food production. My interest in actively observing the outdoors and the change in seasons should already be apparent to the faithful reader, and you may have noticed that random pictures of knitting projects have started to crop up as well. I am going to shed the corset of a food blog and write more about whatever I feel like writing about at the moment I have the time and urge to write. (Which of course does not exclude food.) At its heart, blogging is like what taking a Polaroid used to be: a snapshot, never incredibly artistic in a grand way (the format didn’t allow for that), but more importantly an honest attempt to describe a fleeting moment in time. I am still sticking to my idea of composing as I go. This is freestyle writing, folks, all done in one sitting. No copy and paste (though the delete key gets a good workout).

The kitchen still remains one of my sancta, even though TC has been hogging much of the space to prepare slow-rise bread. He made the switch from store-bought yeast to home-grown sourdough (Saccharomyces mariaviridis, anyone?) mid-month, simply mixing apple and water in a bowl and letting the wild yeast in the air do their thing. Now he’s on the way to becoming a Meisterbäcker. I don’t profess to like bread but must confess I’ve been devouring it. Here’s a taste:

Hope you are also nurturing your talents . Good luck getting your sourdough starter (or whatever that represents for you) bubbling!