living with food

Jumping in

It was almost four years ago that we decided to leave New York, the place where we started our little family and lived in all the stereotypical New York situations: loud sublets, roaches, smoking neighbors, the sounds of sex in the airshaft, an endless horizon of delicious and cheap food, stuck subways, rain, heat, dog poop, walk-ups, strollers, art everywhere, wealth everywhere, crisp spring days, brisk fall days. All of it we loved, on some level, but we wanted a change. That change came from the least expected place and has, unknowingly, happily landed us where we are today. There are two people who were the catalysts for all this—Diane Abrams (Kate's colleague at Gourmet and now our fantastic book editor) and Mary Taylor Simeti, (writer, activist, farmer). Their kindness and generosity of time and spirit led us to Sicily. We can go on and on about our experiences there (or you could just scroll through our old blog), but for this post we just want to thank them, and feel grateful that we know them. Below are a few pics of Mary's land, perched high above the Gulf of Castellammare. They grow organic vegetables, olives and grapes on the 40 acres of Bosco Falconeria. Her family is making some of the best wine we had in Sicily. You should visit them.

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(un)intentional

When Guy and I met, I remember being surprised by a collection of dried-up tea bags tacked up along one wall of his kitchen. A tiny art installation, made of an ordinary thing that I had thrown out thousands of time, turned lovely by focus... One of my favorite food photos that Guy ever took was a Polaroid of two pomegranates that had sat on the windowsill above the sink for too long. They had dried in the New Mexico sun, becoming wizened maracas. But their dusky color stayed true, darkening only a little with age...

Our fridge is always overflowing, so most fruit stays out, surrounding us in bowls and on plates, masquerading as centerpieces. Stuck on shelves near the water glasses. Usually the fruit gets eaten in time, sometimes it doesn't. Sometimes it gets fed to the chickens, sometimes it gets tossed, and sometimes it keeps sitting there, becoming very old and turning into something completely new.

Final 2-20-14