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
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