Walking around the Union Square Farmer’s market with the Pages yesterday, I felt the tug of familiar, but temporarily shelved emotions: the need to cook. While the piles and piles of colorful vegetables, fresh baked loaves of hearty nutted breads and buckets upon buckets of pink and yellow summer flowers made my heart sing with glee, I felt like a dog with a carrot being dangled just out of my reach.
Usually, a majority of my summers are spent with some serious quality time in the kitchen. I have time, energy and the beautifully fresh produce of California’s prosperous agriculture at my finger tips to play with for hours and hours multiple times a week in a kitchen well stocked with every tool from apple corer to zest peeler. This summer, the closest I’ve gotten to a kitchen is the 20 minutes it takes to bake my frozen Trader Joe’s Veggie Nests at 450. This doesn’t cut it.
But alas, this summer’s kitchen space is quite limited and terribly uninspiring leaving me no room or to create. Besides all that, my roommates are DISGUSTINGLY dirty. I mean. Like. You would not believe. Crazy dirty. I can’t stress enough. Really dirty. Do you understand how dirty? I don’t think you do. They are really dirty. Dishes in the sink. For over 3 weeks. Same dish. 3 weeks. Gross. And basically, the piles of their old chinese takeout makes the idea of any culinary endeavor a little less appealing.
So, I have given up hope of a Sunday afternoon with flour on my arms up to my elbows and a simmering pot of anything.
This week I am revolting.
No, I may not be able to enjoy the fruits of my own labor and the pride and satisfaction of pulling your own hard earned dish out of a scorching oven, but that doesn’t mean that I can’t enjoy someone else’s!
I declare this week official Pie Week.
I recently found this list of NYC’s greatest pie restaurants and over the next 7 days, I intend on sampling each one. Tonight, I am starting with Bubby’s in Tribeca and I can’t wait.
I’ll definitely be taking pictures and at the end of the week, we will hopefully have a clear winner. This will hopefully be enough to tide over my kitchen cravings until I have access to an oven of my very own.
(By the way– is anyone else looking forward to fall and winter foods as much as I am? In case you aren’t quite there with me yet, I dare you to read this post and not want 50 degree temperatures and a bowl of pumpkin soup afterwards.)