In this new year I eat tamales for breakfast, as I did when I was in Santa Fe last, and watch the fiesta of robins out the front windows. Robins quite everywhere!
I am considering my way forward—a goatpath or a Roman road, a cobbled street with bakeries and shops, a long climb up a sacred tor or to a line of Anasazi caves, a swath of sand with footprints constantly erased—what will it be? My intention (not resolution, nothing as drastic at that) is to find out.
And a second intention is to make soups this year. I'll start maybe with the yellow split pea from the Tassajara cookbook, cumin spiced, with lemon. (And I'll maybe get that spice mill I intended to last year.)
image: Christie B. Cochrell, Mallorcan Road