All human plans subject to ruthless revision by Nature, or Fate, or whatever one preferred to call the powers behind the Universe. - Arthur C. Clarke, 2010: Odyssey Two Spring had sprung, or so we thought. Gentle sunshine, mild afternoons, the temperature inching upwards and memories of laundry flapping in the fresh air come flooding ...
Did you ever sleep in a field of orange-trees in bloom? The air which one inhales deliciously is a quintessence of perfumes. This powerful and sweet smell, as savoury as a sweetmeat, seems to penetrate one, to impregnate, to intoxicate, to induce languor, to bring about a dreamy and somnolent torpor. It is like opium ...
O, wind, if winter comes, can spring be far behind? - Percy Bysshe Shelley Winter rolls in on a wave of misty white, the fog hanging heavy and cruel over the city. The icy chill penetrates every pore of one’s body and no matter what one does, no matter how many blankets or pairs of socks, ...
An orange on the table, your dress on the rug, and you in my bed, sweet present of the present, cool of night, warmth of my life. – Jacques Prévert As summer winds down and fades into autumn, as the stone fruits and berries turn mealy and flavorless and then disappear into memory, I begin to crave oranges. It is ...
Nature bestows her own, richest gifts And, with lavish hands, she works in shifts... - Gertrude Tooley Buckingham, The Four Seasons The summer pop-up shops are closed, windows dark and gathering dust. The streets are emptier without the tourists, and that emptiness is made all the heavier for the recent days of grey skies and intermittent rain. ...
Let them eat cake. – Marie Antoinette While my own parents were making pies with frozen shells and canned filling or cakes from boxed mixes, my future mother-in-law was feeding her family on homemade treats. Apricot or plum halves pressed into sugary, crumbly pâte sablée or rich quatres-quart made with butter, milk, sugar and flour. Simple ...
The end of a novel, like the end of a children's dinner-party, must be made up of sweetmeats and sugarplums. - Anthony Trollope I’ve had an unexpected windfall of greengage plums. It rained hard for most of the summer, summer not arriving in the Loire Valley until mid-July. It rained hard and long and the chill ...
Summer was a series of random thoughts, urges unencumbered by parental restrictions. The last day of school and we were left to our own devices from then on, basketball in the driveway, hopscotch on the sidewalk, dodge ball in the grass, and kickball in the street were the order of the day, every day. Innocent ...
Morning without you is a dwindled dawn. - Emily Dickinson Up at 5:30, downstairs by 6:30, that is my everyday. Fueled by coffee. Or it should be. Downstairs at 6:30, first clients begin filtering into the breakfast room at 7:15, sometimes earlier, and we jump into action as if someone has flicked on a switch. Sometimes the ...
Wit is the salt of conversation, not the food. - William Hazlitt (1778-1830) Yes, I have signed a contract with Gibbs-Smith Publisher to write my first cookbook. Yes, Ilva Beretta, my friend, my Plated Stories partner, has signed on to shoot the photos. Yes, I deserve a treat. And so do you. Sweet: pleasing to the ear; making a delicate, ...
I'm Jamie; welcome to the new Life's a Feast!
I run a hotel in Chinon, France, and write about life, culture, modern day living and food.
My passion is to create vibrant and unique experiences.
