Wednesday, March 31, 2010

Making My Way Back

Bit by bit, I'm tip-toeing back into the kitchen.

Soft scrambled eggs when the morning is quiet, some grilled asparagus with lemon and parmigiano reggiano on a Sunday evening. A perfect steamed artichoke for lunch, and a slow pot of soup made from leftover veggies in the fridge.

These are not grand culinary accomplishments, by any means. But they are significant nonetheless. It's a sign. I'm making my way back.

I'm just surfacing from a six-week long immersion in this brand new world, and it's a little like waking from a long sleep -- a little stiff and bleary-eyed.

There have been days full of small miracles, and some long sleepless nights. Most of the time I feel completely natural and serene in motherhood, but here and there I second guess my decisions, and feel as though I'm stumbling around the nursery hopelessly. Every single day is new and huge and filled with epic explorations and discoveries. It's the best feeling I've ever felt, but it doesn't mean it's not a little unnerving every once in a while.

Which is why the small moments in the kitchen are so important. With all this newness, I crave the familiar feel of the wooden spoon in my hand, the sound of onions sizzling in olive oil, the predictable rhythm of my knife. I know these motions, these sights, these smells. I don't have to think too much, or try too hard. It's second nature. It's the old part of me, coming out to meet the new part of me.

Last week, as spring knocked us over the head in Southern California, I witnessed promises being made in my backyard.

There are infant pomegranates, probably born the same week as Bailey.

And grapes even smaller than her little toes.

There are more lemons than I know what to do with, growing in heavy clusters that beg to be turned into lemonade.

There are mango blossoms reaching to the sky.

The rosemary I planted and quickly forgot about has grown tall enough to get my attention.

And all of these promised me that I will be back to what I love, soon. I don't have anything to share with you yet, but I'm certain I will in the coming weeks. The recipes might be simpler, but fancy food was never what this was about, anyway.

And as for Bailey... she's started smiling now. There's an awful lot to smile about in this house.


  1. Glad to see you getting back into your routines. Can't wait to read more and follow you on this journey!

  2. The robust beam of light you capture in that first photo is just so hopeful and beautiful. Happy Spring!

  3. Welcome back, and wow, I'm quite jealous (in a good way, that is) of your beautiful and bountiful yard!

  4. Sara, I can hardly wait to see your amazing it is to me that you have all the fruit at your reach whenever you want.

    See you soon, Kim

  5. Look forward to reading your posts x

  6. Glad that you are doing so well. You are so lucky to live in California. It is beautiful out there and all the vegetation is wonderful.

    Have a great Easter.

  7. So envious of the beautiful lemons and rosemary growing in your backyard! It does appear that there is much to smile about in your household. Congratulations on all of it.

  8. Well, between all that colorful, bursting nature and the happy sound of your voice, life is clearly a Garden of Eden right now. Much as it should be. So happy for you, Sara, and so lovely to see you back!

  9. Congratulations and welcome back...

    Your darling Bailey is beautiful, and you won't believe the overwhelming wonderfulness you and your family have ahead of you.

  10. Congratulations! To be sitting down to type at any point in the first 3 months is a milestone. Big time.

    I totally agree with you about the familiarity with the "normal" - just wrote about that same thing a few weeks back in regard to chopping, etc. and how something so simple and basic is therapeutic for me.

    Glad to see you coming back - even if it's baby steps.

  11. What a lovely, thoughtful post... and an even more lovely little girl! You're blessed with all that fruit and daughter goodness!