What attracted me most when I first came
across Rohan Anderson’s blog Whole Larder Love was the photography. We
are, after all, visual creatures, and the shots on which he enables us to feast
our eyes are scrumptious. But then I started reading. Then some more. And
I learned right quickly that the lifestyle Mr Anderson preaches is in fact the
one that he practices... with gusto.
His mantra: a love of cooking "with
food that [he has] grown, gathered, hunted, fished for or sourced locally.
There is a peace to understanding food. Food ethics and a conscience make the
process more interesting. Sometimes frustrating, often rewarding, always
challenging and sometimes divinely tasting" (ref).
It's an inspiring message and an example worth following, and Rohan has
set upon delivering it, to our mouth-watering benefit, in a forthcoming
cookbook to be released this October.
that, and to the notion that living by example starts in your own backyard, I'd encourage each of you here in San Antonio to attend tomorrow night's Views & Brews, sponsored by Texas Public
Radio, on urban homesteading.
"Resolved by the House
of Representatives (the Senate concurring), That it is the sense of the Congress that jazz is hereby
designated as a rare and valuable national American treasure to which we should
devote our attention, support, and resources to make certain it is preserved,
understood, and promulgated." H.CON.RES.57, 105th Congress.
The Center for the
Preservation of Jazz & Blues takes its name from the resolution originally
adopted by the House in December 1987, which recognizes jazz as an indigenous
form of music and art. Its mission… “to educate, provide experiences,
opportunities and information that traverse the full spectrum of the jazz and
blues experience"; I was just looking for someplace new to take a gal on a
MZ had agreed to see me a
for second time, and I wanted to get away from the usual haunts and show off a
little well-researched creativity. It was a gamble; I’d learned to be cautious with the co-eds from SMU, who can be... particular.
Walked into the old digs off 14th Street, dim lights and the band in full stride. With a bottle of wine under each arm we stopped at the counter to place orders. The menu: chicken wings, collards, red beans. oh God, I thought. Looks like I'll be drinking that second bottle alone. Though it turned out my date had some New Orleanian blood running through her, so just as I was steadying myself for a solo binge, she was settling in comfortably for good music and mama's cooking. Guess that's what happens on the rare occasion when you get the right one into the right place...
MZ has her board meeting in LA next week,
so I've made the prudent decision to tag along and enjoy the spoils
of idle time and a free room, where I'll be of absolutely no use
to anyone. Our travels so rarely send us westward, and I'd like to take in a couple spots that you just can't get anywhere else.
What ought I not miss?
Sitting outside Mountain Fresh Grocery in Highlands, NC for lunch yesterday when this old Wagoneer pulls up. Faded army green and a muffler full of holes. The bumper stickers - Sweet Briar, Sewanee, W '04 - suited well the driver, who was straight out of central casting: a well-preserved septuagenarian in navy blue polo dress; and she, in turn, suited well her environment, the kind where 25lbs of dog food cost $72.
We'll be celebrating America's birthday this week from here in the Blue Ridge Mountains. On Instagram (@amatourist) if you're in the mood for shoddy faux-tography.