The
Strawberry Cookbook is where we keep the recipes we like. We go to a pot luck,
and have a fantastic salsa, or the carrot bisque we had on the wine tour flips
our lid and not only do we take the recipe card, but we have to go out and buy
an immersion blender. Something in a magazine catches the fancy of one or both
of us. That sort of thing gets taped into the pages of a spiral-bound blank
book with a heavy plastic cover featuring a very large strawberry.
One
time, we put in a recipe from a magazine for a salad into the
Strawberry Cookbook. It sounded great; avocado, tomato, Romaine. Simple, easy,
light for summer eating. Perfect, plus a splash of lime juice because lime
juice makes perfect better.
Anyway.
The lime juice did not save the salad.
Sometimes
a recipe, even a simple one, brings the ingredients togther in a harmonious new
food. Everything is still there, happy to be there, and happy to be
contributing to this new thing.
The
other night, though, the tomat, avo, and the rest of it just sat there, being
themselves. It was like eating toddlers at parallel play.
