You’ve heard of emotional eating right? Well, I think I am an emotional cooker. Today is my grandmother’s 90th birthday, and for a variety of reasons I couldn’t make it to the party this weekend in Denver. So, thinking I’d be calling between breakfast, lunch and the party, I called my sister. But I called during brunch. So everyone is there, having a great time and chatting away. It’s not a bad thing, but certainly makes me wish even more I was there. I am the only one left on the West Coast now, and once every now and again, okay frequently, I think maybe it’s time to move closer. I got “passed around” as it were, chatting with my extended family as the cell phone got passed from person to person. Almost like I was there, without the 36 hour turn around flight.
My consolation prize? Quiche. Today is quiche day. I’m making a “what things do I have on hand” quiche. So, it’ll have oven roasted tomatoes, ham, scallions and onion, caraway, thyme, provolone and mushrooms. That’s what I love about quiche – you can pretty much put in it whatever you want and as long as the egg/cream ratio is correct, it’s a success.
Cooking is my solace – it’s nurturing, creative, spontaneous and since you have to eat it’s also a necessity. So while I am not where I’d like to be today, I’ll be eating a fabulous quiche in a bit and taking comfort in planning what’s for dinner.
November 14, 2010 at 11:45 am
It only makes sense. It’s such a creative outlet, and peaceful to boot.
If I leave now, I might get there before you finish it all!
November 15, 2010 at 9:24 am
I’ll bring you some, oh wait, we ate it all!!
November 14, 2010 at 3:08 pm
Amber….your quiche sounds like a perfect way to connect and relax. Plus it sounds like a perfectly delicious dish.
Glad to see you at you opening!
November 15, 2010 at 9:24 am
Good to see you too Cree – you were radiant in that gorgeous green coat!!!
November 15, 2010 at 12:49 am
Hey Bamber, I have never made quiche before, but actually I love it. Is it hard? You will have to show me next time we meet. Then when I make it at home, I will think of you 🙂
November 15, 2010 at 9:23 am
It’s super easy – we’ll make one when you are here! Here’s to no more naps!!!
November 17, 2010 at 6:00 pm
I am definitely an emotional cooker too! There is something comforting about a well-used kitchen to me. And actually when I am not able to get to my studio as much as I’d like, I cook.
It’s hard being far from family. All the calls on my cellphone are pretty much to my sisters. 🙂
March 3, 2011 at 5:19 pm
Hello Amber,
I was telling an art teacher friend of mine yesterday, about Captain Karin, all the wonderful things she was to me as a sister-in-law for 35 years, and a friend and inspiration to children through her art, the “rig” museum classes and so much more.
My first art gift from her was a Karin-style painting of a multicolored, gingerbread victorian house, 2nd was a crazy, original stuffed, frog-like creature, before my first son Jeremy was born. When my 2nd son Josh, was born came a painting of the two brothers, then, cooking/art aprons… custom made for them, a long-legged floppy-ear’d bunny with overalls on when my daughter came along, lots of Christmas tree ornaments over the years, a dangly-legged elf, a beautiful Father Christmas with a bundle of sticks on his back. There were many more, but these are the ones I remember the most. I think of her often, some days I bump into “Karin clones”… people who immediately remind me of her, and I know she’s communicating with me in her way. My girlfriend Alin and I were remembering the day Karin surprised us both by offering to do pedicures for each of us… she was so precious, humble, gentle and caring… for her, this was a new way of giving of herself. I’ll always remember her for that. And yes, her unique sense of humor–I laughed out loud when I read about the glitter!!! Thanks for that. She was so much on my mind today, that I felt lead to Google her name in connection with the museum… and happened upon your blog. Thank you, Amber, for sharing. I miss her, too… but know she’s right here when we think of her, and quite able to rattle our awareness occasionally to say… “Hey– I’m still here… my spirit is eternal, people!”
I salute you, Captain Karin!
March 3, 2011 at 5:31 pm
Oh Linda – lucky you to have so much time with her and so many happy memories. We all trade stories about Karin frequently, and I know that this reminds us all how she would want us laughing instead of crying. Now I’ll always think of her as Captain Karin too!