For parents of school age kids, like me, back to school marks the end of summer, even if days are still long and the weather warm. For us, school starts this Thursday. There is both sadness and relief. This Monday I find myself already looking back at summer. How does summer end for you? The…
Hello Local Yogis, I’m planning snack boxes for our upcoming yoga book club workshop! You know that I, hungryphil/wobblyogi am super excited about combining my two loves: food and yoga. Summer is Pitta season. According to Ayurvedic tradition, summer is the time to enjoy bitter, astringent and sweet tastes (eat less sour, pungent or spicy…
Today’s Food Poem by Raymond Carver uses gravy to describe feelings of gratitude, the extra sauce of life. Carver is such a master of little things and moments. Maybe it’ll add to your “gravy” today. Enjoy! No other word will do. For that’s what it was. Gravy. Gravy, these past ten years. Alive, sober, working,…
Poet Joyce Sutphen is able to conjure such vivid and intimate experiences through small everyday objects. I so enjoy her work. Hope you do too! Here is a poem about a mason jar of water from today’s Writers Almanac: And on those hot afternoons in July, when my father was out on the tractor cultivating…
It is so validating and reassuring when an event I anticipated and promoted lives up to my hopes. The story of dinner on the Farm was published in the recent summer issue of Edible Indy Magazine. Last Friday, Jim and I had dinner on the Farm prepared by Chef Lauren Reed. It was a…
Hope you find this poem that offers food like flowers as a form of healing presence, as reassuring as I do. Happy Tuesday my fellow hungry philosophers. I learned from my mother how to love the living, to have plenty of vases on hand in case you have to rush to the hospital with peonies…
Yet another benefit to baking: “to make sweetness where there is none.” I also loved the part about the sweetness of babies before “their wills sprouted like mushrooms.” Hope you enjoy the poem as I do! My mother cooked as drudgery the same fifteen dishes round and round like a donkey bound to a millstone…
Last Saturday, along with three friends, my daughter and I went on a road trip. Our destination? Exotic and distant small town Whiting, Indiana, where the last weekend of July is devoted to celebrating the humble Polish Pierogi. We drove past bountiful corn fields, rows of soy bean bushes, relaxed and grazing animals. We drove…
