Category: Food (Page 4 of 5)

The Simple Perfection of Autumn in New England

October 8, 2009 / Katie L. Carroll

If winter in New England is long and harsh, summer in New England is short and hot, and spring in New England is cool and rainy, then fall in New England may just be the perfect season. Don’t get me wrong, I’m a summer baby and have no problem playing soccer in 90-degree heat, but fall has a certain magical quality about it here in CT.

I love the fresh crispness of the air contrasted with the earthy scent of decay, the crunch of leaves underfoot, the full moon clear in the sky, the spicy sweetness of apple cider, and the bite of a cool breeze on the tip of my nose and ears.

The temperature is pleasant (64 degrees today), the sun is usually shining (except for the October I got married when it poured for a full 13 days, leading right up to my wedding day…if rain on your wedding day is good luck, then I must have the best marriage luck in the world), and there’s plenty of fun fall activities.

I’ve already gone apple picking at Bishop’s Orchard, and I plan on making some great pies. Oh, and I got fresh apple-cider doughnuts, which were awesome. I have yet to pick—okay, not so much pick as in harvest, but pick as in select—pumpkins, but that’s definitely on the to-do list. There are also corn mazes, great hiking weather, and all the great fall foliage to check out. Of course, there are all the different haunted activities in the area as well.

Yep, fall is quite wonderful around here (knock on wood because I don’t want to jinx it!).

Rivers of Fire

September 13, 2009 / Katie L. Carroll

WaterFire Providence is an interactive work of art that was designed by Barnaby Evans. It consists of 100 iron braziers that seem to defy physics as they float on three rivers in downtown Providence. The fires are lit at sunset and keep going until after midnight.

(Here’s Waterplace Park in the daytime. You can see the braziers are stacked with wood. On the left is the Courtyard Marriott and on the right is the Westin Hotel. Even more buildings have been put up since this picture was taken a few years ago. This area of Providence has gone through a real growth period over the last ten years.)

The WaterFire experience is really something that can’t be described, but I’ll give it a try. Imagine a communal ritual based around fire—very natural and primal—but in a modern, urban setting. The juxtaposition is part of the beauty. In order to really appreciate the full work of art, the hubby and I walk down the riverside in a slow procession of people, surrounded by the sounds, smells, and sights of city and art. For once, I don’t mind having to take a minute to pause and experience all the moment has to offer. All my senses are engaged.

(Here’s the park at night from a different angle. Providence Place Mall is in the background.)

Sight is obvious. The bright orange flames glow in the braziers, reflecting off the inky waters. Bright ash flits by us. The boats move up and down the river: the pontoons full of people, the romantic gondola designed for two, and the staff boat with the black-clad volunteers that steal up to the braziers like some kind of fire phantoms. Then there’s the city scape: the Bank of America Building (locally known as the Superman Building), which always reminds me of Dana’s apartment building in Ghostbusters; the cars driving by; the mall; the people; the bridges; and all those the city lights. Oh, and I almost forgot to mention the street performers dressed as gargoyles and fortune-tellers.

Smell is pretty obvious too, given that the scent of fire is pretty distinct. These fires smell of pine and cedar. But there’s also the city smells: car exhaust, street vendors, and all those unidentifiable, funky smells that are part of city life.

Sound is prevalent as well. The wood cackles and pops as the flames hit air pockets, and the musical program that is part of the art experience echoes along the walkway (my favorite song this visit is Chopin’s “Nocturne No. 8 in D flat major” performed by Daniel Barenboim). And of course, there’s the sounds of the city: car horns, the shuffle of feet along the walkway, quiet murmurs of the crowd, and the whir of motors of both cars and boats.

Touch is more subtle. The fires send a wave of warmth across my skin. A light breeze blows my hair around my face. The stone walkway is cool and uneven beneath my sandals.

Taste is the most elusive sense. On this trip, I have the delicious memory of the previous night’s dinner. The hubby and I went to Constantino’s on Federal Hill. We started with carpaccio (which neither of us had ever eaten) and some Riesling. Then I had gnocchi and the hubby had chicken parmigiana. Both were awesome! For dessert, I had a cannoli platter…of course! But none of that really has anything to do with the WaterFires. Sure, there’s a bunch of restaurants along the rivers, but I want a better connection between taste and fire. Well, the program informs me that Indian Buddhists believe the element water is associated with taste (fire is sight, earth is smell, and air is touch).

Even with having to stretch a little for taste, it was still a lovely evening.

Strawberries Are the Perfect Bite of Summer

June 23, 2009 / Katie L. Carroll

The taste of summer is a sweet Popsicle, the way it sticks to your tongue for just a moment before it melts and the juices slip down your throat. Maybe even better than that is the glug of an ice-cold beer pouring from the can, its bubbles tickling your tongue and throat. Even better still is a perfectly cooked hot dog right off the grill, blackened just enough so that it crunches as you bite into its hot, juicy meat.

But hands down, without a doubt, better than all of those treats (no matter how you personally rate them) is the strawberry, and not just any strawberry. I’m talking the perfect strawberry picked with your very own hands from a picturesque field on a sunny hill. The strawberry that was so plump and red you slipped it into your mouth before you even thought of dropping it into the bucket with the others.

In that first bite, you taste the sun-kissed sweetness. The flavor explodes in your mouth and you think Oh, forgive me, strawberry, for ever cooking you or putting you in the refrigerator. I’ll never again taint you with pies, ice cream, or cake. Then the tang bites your tongue. Taste buds you forgot you had wake up and scream in pleasure and you think This is better than…(I’ll let you fill in the blank). Mmmmm…oh, sorry, I think I was drooling a little.

I had just such a strawberry the other day at Jones Family Farm. My husband and I had gone on one of our pick-your-own excursions (we also do this with apples at Bishop’s Orchard in the fall and of course with the veggies in our own garden all summer long). There’s nothing like harvesting your own food and serving it to those you love.

Also at the farm was one little girl who I’m sure understands the camaraderie offered by this activity (although she may not experience the taste of the strawberry in quite the same way as an adult). I don’t know her real name, but I affectionately refer to her as Olivia in my head.

She was picking strawberries with her mom and they were in a row next to a woman who was probably a little bit older than the mom. Olivia chatted with the older woman in the frank manner of a friendly little kid. The woman finished picking and said good-bye. She made it a few rows away before Olivia spoke in a voice as sweet and perfect as the strawberries themselves, “Enjoy your strawberries.” Enjoy, indeed!

Temperature Swings and Spring Garden in Pictures

April 30, 2009 / Katie L. Carroll

In some areas of Connecticut the temperature was in the low 90s on Tuesday. In those same areas last night the temperature got down to the low 30s. For all of you math geniuses that’s a 60-degree swing in less than 48 hours. Welcome to New England!

My hometown is on the water, so it tends to be a bit more temperate. But still, weather in Connecticut is kind of ridiculous sometimes. Despite the cool temperature last night, today is holding firmly in the 60s with a mix of sun and clouds. In other words, spring has finally taken root.

That means my daffodils are blooming,

my bleeding hearts are gaining steam,

and my pea plants are growing, growing, growing (which is just in time because the other day I used up the last of the frozen peas from last year’s crop).

Now I’m off to enjoy the nice weather (while it lasts!).

Wandering Around NYC Eating Cannoli

April 2, 2009 / Katie L. Carroll

While I was in New York City, I had some time to wander around (okay, hobble around…curse my stupid medial meniscus!). I was in the mood for a cannoli, so I hopped on the subway (thank you hopstop.com) and headed to Veneiro’s Bakery. There seems to be a lot of debate about where to get a good cannoli in Manhattan, but I’m not really that picky. Honestly, can a cannoli really be bad?

I bought six mini cannolis and a little kiwi tart-thingy. The tart reminded me of one of the desserts my husband and I had eaten at the beach barbecue buffet in Tahiti. Ahhh, Tahiti. Just thinking of it makes me so relaxed…

Oh, sorry, was I talking about something…oh, right, cannolis. So I took my pastries and headed back in the direction of the subway station. I passed a church that had a bunch of benches in front of it. Its gates were open and a sign said that the church didn’t close until 1:00 a.m., so I found a nice spot to sit and enjoy the weather.

I didn’t think to check what the name of the church was, but I managed to locate it later on google maps with their street view option. (It’s scary how easy it is to see real street views on that website. Is nothing private anymore?) I was at St. Mark’s Church in the Bowery.

I had a book, my kiwi tart, and a cannoli. I had brought my iPod with me, but I found I didn’t need it. Now, I’ve noticed that a lot of my peers–and sadly those from a younger generation–are permanently attached to their music players. Don’t get me wrong, I love my iPod. But it has a place and a time.

On this particular occasion, I didn’t need it. I had the music of the city to listen to. Someone was playing a harmonica. That I couldn’t see this person made it even better. It was music from nowhere, or maybe it was from everywhere. There was the constant chatter of the street: engines, horns, shouts. The shuffle of families, artists, wanderers coming and going. The soft coo of those rats-with-wings (also known as pigeons).

At some point the harmonica’s music stopped, but I didn’t even notice because a guitar picked up right in its place. Then a young woman came and sat a little ways in front of me. She was on her phone. Her tone was serious, angry, sad. “You’re just like lawyer. Always lying…I just can’t keep doing this with you.”

She soon left and a young couple took her place. They didn’t talk much because they were sharing a serving of what looked like fried clams. Still, the crunch of the Styrofoam container, their soft chewing and little murmurs reached my ears. The church bells tolled, reminding me I had a critique appointment and a bum knee that made travel in the city a slow process.

Alas, I had lingered long enough with my music. It was time to go find a new song.