And just what have you been eating?
Many places, and oh so many things.
Baltimore, where there were excellent crab cakes and asparagus.
And Oxford, where there was much charm and history, some fish and chips, a baguette with goat cheese, fig and honey that I remember with particular fondness, and a very fine lamb shank. And asparagus.
A swanky Philadelpha hotel where I had the double whammy of only my second room service and my first cheesesteak ever. I didn’t want to like these things. But I did. There were no asparagus.
Then across the country and back, to that place that starts to be a second home . . .
. . . where there celebrations . . .
. . . and markets . . .
. . . and sunshine and scenery. And along the way there was a lot of excellent beer and some good food and quite a bit of bad food . . .
. . . and big skies . . .
. . . and long evening shadows, and small towns and miles and miles of highway.
Once in a while, I’ve even been home, where we’ve eaten good things . . .
. . . like paella . . .
. . . and pizza . . .
. . . and pulled pork and some other good things that don’t start with p. Like Shana’s buttermilk pie and Lenny’s grilled shrimp and lots and lots of berries. Although there have been a lot of peas, as well.
But now I’m home for real, so maybe it’s time to stop being a bad blogger and to start telling you about some of this as I go along, and to feed my friends and get to know my kitchen again and revel in that farm share while it lasts. And to consider important Ann Arbor food questions like why Zanzibar is closing and where will we take fancy visitors for lunch now and will Sabor Latino really reopen or is the ominous “closed for renovations” sign a euphemism for “out of business”?
I promise not to stay out so late without calling again. It’s a nice world out there, but I’m happy to be home.