I know, no one's reading this any more. But for my own satisfaction I'll note that I recently roasted a chicken (with tarragon, no less!) for Father's Day. I followed the directions in Nigel Slater's Appetite. I do love Slater, who in addition to cooking delicious things photographs his own books (most appetizingly) and writes in a brisk, sensible, encouraging tone that makes everything seem do-able.
I have also been re-reading Barbara Pym's entire canon, as I do pretty much every year. If you haven't encountered her slim, witty, brilliantly observed novels of English village life pre and post-WWII, you are missing a huge treat. She is absolutley the best.
Still too nauseated to knit.
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4 comments:
Heather, Pym is the *sole* author on my bedside rotation. I read and re-read her oeuvre, over and over again. Started 12 years ago. Nice to see you yesterday, and so glad you're up and about again. We'll get together soon again I hope. xx Kate
Hey, now! I'm still reading! And, I've been thinking of you recently because I've been reading Middlemarch. Now, I suppose I'll be reading Pym!
I hope you begin to feel better soon...
xoxox Alane
H,
So glad to see you back at the blog. It is still the first thing I check in the mornings. Picked Cold Comfort Farm back up the other day. It somehow fell out of rotation, likely misplaced in a bag hidden somewhere for a few weeks. Also reading an oft admired title from your bookshelves, The Man Who Ate Everything. How was the Hornby? Hope you get to feeling better soon.
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