the sweetest weekend
February 17, 2010
on the california coast.
* shot with a palm zire 71
sundown
January 25, 2010
high above the city, atop the angeles national forest.
outside
January 21, 2010
it’s been pouring for five days straight and the wind has blown nearly all the tiny, pink, fringed carnations off the tree. the apartment is an ice chest, but i am home — mint tea within reach, tucked under a warm, wool blanket a very special 80-something-year-old abuelita knitted for me over the holidays.
something tells me
January 13, 2010
this little apron is going to transform me. there will be risotto primavera and greek stuffed artichokes, shrimp paella and a pumpkin thing called “autumn glory.” there will be cheese and pasta and herbs i can’t spell or pronounce. plenty of botched and burnt meals, too. but by year’s end, i will be a whiz (ok, i’ll settle for decent) in the kitchen. next time my mom decides to show up on my doorstep with 10 guests, completely unannounced, i might just be ready.
oaxaca IV
August 9, 2009
