I arrived home yesterday afternoon to find the Amaryllis bulb that I had been given for Christmas had finally taken off, growing long and leggy during the five days of my absence. With the cold that followed Christmas in Knoxville, it had been frozen in a state of what felt like permanent waiting. Of course I could have turned the heat up in my house, up into the 70s, but frankly I am rarely all that cold, and I relished he idea of actually wearing my wool sweaters. I am now excited to see this Lenten Amaryllis indoors at a time when the yard is rich with lenten roses and I see the tender leaves of bulbs massing everywhere around: daffodils, hyacinths, tulips, irises, the occasional daylily. The bulbs are not so much in my yard, as I haven't really planted bulbs yet, trying mightily to stick to my one year moratorium on new plants, but the neighborhood is flush with new growth.
This morning I carted my coffee upstairs to my desk in one of the silver coffeepots I have inherited from various grandparents and aunts. This one is silver-plate, and I am using it simply because it is the first one that I pulled out of the cupboard. I've been using it for my morning coffee for a couple of weeks now. Surprisingly, it makes me happy, and has made me realize that I should really pull those silver services out of the cupboard and consider using them, perhaps even make a decision about which services and sizes and shapes would be useful in my life. It does not keep the coffee warm for hours, like the stainless carafe that is in the kitchen, but I don't really need hours, and I am thinking that a similar pot, perhaps combined with the silver samovar, which has a burner, could even be used for entertaining. Well, idle thoughts anyway.
While my mind is revolving around food and kitchens, I thought I'd also post this photo I took at French Ranges when I was in New York. One of the things I did, since I was in a city with a large selection of showrooms, was look at options for kitchens and baths, both appliances and hardware and hard surfaces. The LaCanche is my dream stove, and although this is not my model of choice, this is my color. it is still early, and there are still options and budgets, and compromises to be considered, but I think the LaCanche will remain the centerpiece of my new kitchen, however that will evolve.
After a morning talking stoves, and wandering around showrooms at 200 Lex we were tired and ready for a rest. We found our way down to Union Square Cafe, where we snagged a table at the bar and settled in for a cocktail and a leisurely lunch. I had scallop crudo and a tuna burger, ending with an espresso, although Liana, brave soul the she is, tried the new dessert on the menu. I've realized that although I love good food and nice restaurants, it was George who was more the white tablecloth, formal presentation person. I'm usually happy in the bar, where everything feels more casual but the food is just as good.
And finally, Tuesday night we went to Jacob Scharfman's recital at Juilliard. Jacob is George's cousin twice-removed, and his father, Dan, was a dear friend, whom I had been happy to get to know in our younger days, even though we had not seen each other often enough as the years passed. Jacob sang one of George's favorite songs, and I am certain he and Dan were both smiling down on this concert. which was incredible. With each work, especially the operatic selections, but also for the broadway song, I felt bereft that I couldn't hear the entire work right then, with this brilliant young man singing. I think Jacob is a young man to follow and I wish him great success. After the concert, Liana and I went for a late bite at Bar Boulud, heads and hearts still swimming with the music. Photo above courtesy of Liana Sandin.
