I’m looking for the recipe for black-eyed peas given me by a southern daughter, for good new year’s luck, and am tempted by another in the Tassajara cookbook with ginger and smoked mozzarella. Then off into the realms of possibility (and hunger), to thoughts of cracked crab (perhaps with lemon & basil vinaigrette, or lemon-pepper fettucini and a smidgen of minced prosciutto), of Cajun spiced shrimp remoulade or jambalaya (cooled by carrot soup with orange and chervil), or a different use of sausages—cassoulet. Roasted vegetables with Satay peanut sauce? Pan-fried haloumi? My old favorite wild rice salad with watercress and chopped fresh herbs? My usual quandry, but whatever I end up with, I know, will be delicious.
As for New Year’s Resolutions, seldom kept, I am going to try to change my instinctive response. Typically cautious, my answer tends to be “Yes, but . . . “ Hedging my bets, tacking a gloomy conclusion onto an initially positive reaction. Somewhere I read that saying “Yes, and . . . “ gives a more positive spin to things. I see that it might open up whole realms of possibility that I don’t usually consider. It may revolutionize my year! Or at least open new doors—appropriate on the Day of Janus, the god of doors and gates and beginnings, who faces two ways, watches over the start of the new year.
Happy New Year! Yes, and . . . happy last day of this one. Another day to savor and enjoy, not least because it's last. I’m off shopping, to get my black-eyed peas, and whatever seems right to accompany them. I'll leave that door open too.
image: The Two-headed God Janus, LiveLearNkTeach