Well, Jesse and I made it safely down to Oregon. I'll be the first to admit that I'm one of the worst road-tripping companions. My nerves instantly become rubber-bandy, my knuckles turn white, and I snap out orders mid conversation. However, Jesse (being a wise guy) visited the library before we left and brought back several books on tape. Among these was My Life in France by Julia Child. We listened to this book the entire 11 hours down, and it worked like a charm. I tell you what, if you ever lose your appetite, read this book, and you'll find it again. We practiced some French words (mostly food-related) and drooled over the dishes she describes. With only a few exceptions, I believe I was a tolerable driving companion.
Jesse drove on down to the Bay Area this morning, and I stayed behind in Medford. I'm looking forward to enjoying some time with my family, as well as some time alone. I've had some time to think, and as I sit here waiting excitedly for Barefoot Contessa to start (ooh, it's on!) I have to wonder if this food obsession is going too far. I don't know what it is, but the creativity of it, the new experiments to try, the endless things to learn, and of course the eating part--it gets me itchin' for the kitchen. And it's something more, too, but I can't put my finger on it.
I'm sitting in my parents' living room in the Applegate Valley. There's a beautiful view of the mountains and there are little wispy clouds lying around. It's nice and drizzly, and the flock of pigeons that lives in the field across the dirt road (and has since they moved here) is circling around. Very picturesque and relaxing. Ina's making a lemon yogurt cake. I saw some lemons in the fridge...
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