Ode to a Spring Sunday

This Sunday, like every Sunday, found The Boy Next Door and I pleasantly enjoying the bucolic life. The recent rains yielded to giant, puffy clouds, with plenty of sunshine to warm things up enough to enjoy the one day respite we so look forward to.
First, a quiet morning by the crackling wood stove, sipping hand harvested lemon verbena tea.  Next, an invigorating soak in the dead sea salt hot tub.
After a healthy breakfast of "green eggs," ample garden kale and collards with softly scrambled fresh eggs laid that very morning, I decided to harvest and preserve the Japanese kumquats that were at their peak juiciness.  A simple syrup lightly enhanced with some coriander seed, fresh ginger, and Meyer lemon zest from our trees, provided the preserving goodness that will allow us to enjoy these little gems for the upcoming months, when everyone else has forgotten them...
Mid afternoon, and it was time to let the sheep out to pasture.  Perched in our chairs, we are always amused at their antics.  The four little lambs tease one another, and jump around jovially.  Precociously, they venture into whatever areas their minds fancy; they are no different than little human children, and we never tire of watching them play in the sunshine.  Murano glasses contain Negronis, accented with the kumquats, of course~perfect for the show.
A bit later, time for a snack.  While he lit the fire by the pool, I assembled the edible accoutrements.   A jar of salmon rillettes I made a few weeks ago, with fresh brioche, toasted on the top of the wood stove.  And a bottle of Jacquelynn Sauvignon Blanc/Semillon blend from our buddy at Chateau Boswell rounded things off in a most rich and satisfying way.
All the day, in the well worn dutch oven given to me years ago by a close chef friend, the leg of lamb we smoked last weekend simmered with a jar of last year's preserved tomatoes, generous garlic and chilis, homemade lamb stock, and a montage of Rancho Gordo beans.  It became dinner, served with our last bottle of our buddy Dave's Sonoma Coast Pinot Noir, with a garden salad of mixed chicories.

Life doesn't get much more perfect.

Catching Up

Today is the Spring Equinox~the time to plant our seeds for this year's garden harvest. So I felt it fitting to finally post again, after a hiatus that has lasted over two years.
Although the spring equinox is about the future, it is only by careful consideration of the past that we can thoughtfully conceive our choices.
My process always begins with a hike.  I have always believed that if we walk a path long enough, the answers to our questions will be answered.  Sometimes a quick stroll does the trick, sometimes it takes miles of grueling terrain.  Some answers are never revealed.   But we will not know unless we get out there and put one foot in front of the other.
It took about 4 miles before all of my mind's chatter gave way.  Then, the world became only the birds' chirping, the frogs' croaking, the streams gurgling, and the wind whispering.  That is the place where treasure is found.
The last two years have brought much change for me.  Two prospective (to put it lightly) restaurant locations have come and gone.  At this time last year, I thought I would be steering the helm of The Bewildered Pig ship.  It wasn't until the fall equinox of last year that I realized that it was not going to happen, after months of hard work, and lots of money.  I needed the quiet of winter to understand the lesson(s).
A year ago, almost to the date, I said my final farewell to the beautiful winery estate at which I created a masterpiece of a culinary program, as the winery had sold and no longer did my friend and mentor (Pat Kuleto) employ his extraordinary vision to the business.  Pat had created a fertile space, and in it, I planted everything imaginable!  My harvest was so incredibly plentiful, and I am exceedingly grateful. It had been seven years.
At that very time, as I released the Kuleto kitchen and the second restaurant space from my tight grasp, a new opportunity arose.  Of course!
A most distinguished winery was in need of a resident chef.  After a lengthy process, I accepted a very tasteful offer, and am now the chef for one of the most respected wineries in the world.  That was a year ago, April.
So here I am today. After two years of trying to steer my ship against the wind, I have decided that I will revel in the now, and resume on a more comfortable course!
This spring, I shall plant several varieties of patience, as I am always in need of that.  Open mindedness is also big on my list.  As a Taurus (bull) and Ox (Chinese sign), I tend to be a bit opinionated.  My garden can always use more compassion, as its sweetness knows no opposition.  The bulbs of lightheartedness are also infinitely sweet, and I can use that, as my goals and convictions tend to weigh on me heavily.  Top it off with a sprinkling more discernment, and I'm good to go!
Happy Equinox!