Hello my loves,
I’m writing to you from James’s family cabin in southern Vermont, where we’re spending a few days with his parents. It’s one of my favorite places. His grandparents bought the land over fifty years ago, and James’s dad, an architect, designed the cabin soon thereafter. James came here every summer and winter for vacation as a kid.
I remember my first time visiting when James and I started dating in college. His grandparents would perch in their sturdy chairs on the side porch overlooking the blueberry bushes, binoculars in hand to watch the birds graze the trees, while aunts, uncles and cousins came and went from hikes. Afternoons were for playing games and reading, and in the evening we all “dressed” and gathered on the porch for cocktails and doodads (a.k.a. snacks, usually a tray of Chex Mix) before dinner. Meals were cooked in the small kitchen with the electric stove, served on flowered ceramic plates, and clean-up was the kids’ job (no dishwasher meant that story telling and laughter were a must).
These days many of the traditions remain, albeit with some changes. There’s still no television, but now there’s WIFI, so even though my kids have played numerous card games and spent hours reading, drawing and making clay figures, they still have their devices (me too—here I am writing to you). We still dress for dinner, even if it means just throwing on my dangly brass earrings. Doodads are now usually chunks of local Vermont cheeses with crackers. Clean-up is still the kids’ job (and still no dishwasher).
Meals are also still served on the same ceramic flowered plates, although this week there are only six of us, not the twelve or fifteen this cabin has seen in the past (while it’s a small cabin, there are a lot of beds). On Monday we brought up a roasted vegetable lasagna that we had assembled the day before (my go-to for travel), along with the fixings for a big salad. I also brought up a frozen tart—the creamy lime tart with coconut ginger crust from my book, Mind, Body, Spirit, Food—which I decorated with fresh fruit before serving, in celebration of my father-in-law’s birthday. Also from my freezer back home came a batch of the grain-free peach muffins I shared last week, and these protein snack balls, which I’ve been traveling with all summer. One night we schlepped the Weber up from the basement to cook juicy burgers, paired with steamed local sweet corn and a platter of tomatoes (from our garden). Since the grill was up, we also used it to cook buttermilk-marinated chicken, served with a lemon-scallion potato salad my mother-in-law made, and another giant salad. For dessert, Wilcox vanilla ice cream mixed with peanut butter (my forever favorite). For lunch, BLTs with extra crispy, nearly burnt (but not) bacon.
Cabin life is a celebration of simplicity. Bike rides, hikes, board games, hours spent lounging and reading (I’m currently reading Eastern Body Western Mind and, on the novel front, What We Can Know—though truthfully having a hard time getting into it; yesterday I added Heart the Lover and Country People to the pile, courtesy of the local bookstore). But it’s a simplicity that’s woven with reverence. These moments, these meals, feel incredibly special, even though they’re utterly simple.
When we were in Corsica earlier this summer, we stumbled upon a vintage store in a small mountain town. The proprietor was playing music from a record player, dancing and singing with bravado. She was like a sun beam, swirling her way through the dusty glassware and racks of clothing, with an energy that was infectious (soon we were all dancing and singing). Ella found a t-shirt she liked, and as she was paying for it, the woman told us how the shirt had once belonged her own daughter. It cost just 5 Euros, but she wrapped it carefully in tissue paper. “One must have respect,” she explained to Ella, “for all things.”
Those words stuck with us throughout that trip and are coming back to me now—how, when we bestow respect onto the ordinary things in life, they become imbued with sacredness, whether it’s wrapping up a five-euro used t-shirt for a customer, or dressing up for dinner even if you’re at a cabin in the woods. Gathering for a cocktail and a little plate of snacks makes any meal feel celebratory. Using the ceramic plates instead of paper ones, even though there’s no dishwasher. Gathering a little vase of flowers to adorn a table.
Right now as I write this the sun is filtering through the tall cabin windows, lighting up specks of dust, warming my toes on the couch. It’s an ordinary moment, but, in this attention of respect, it feels reverent. Sacred.
This week, my invitation is to fill your small moments with respect. Where in your day could you make room for a little reverence—and how might that change the way the ordinary moments feel?
A couple of weeks ago I shared how reverse marinating is one of my biggest summer cooking strategies, resulting in incredible flavor with minimal effort. Another strategy I’ve been loving lately is topping cooked meats and fish with a juicy, bright salsa made with tomatoes or corn. It’s incredibly simple, and you don’t really need a recipe, but here are a few meals I’ve made recently that I thought I’d share, in case they lend some inspiration to your kitchen.
Thick-Cut Grilled Pork Chops with Corn & Peach Salsa: There’s no need to cook fresh sweet corn for a salsa (although it’s a great way to use up leftover cooked corn). Toss it with with diced peaches, scallions, basil, chiles (if you have them), lime juice, garlic (if you’re in the mood), and olive oil.
Crispy Parmesan-Crusted Fish with Tomato Salsa: If using large, juicy tomatoes for the salsa, toss them with a sprinkle of salt and let them sit in a colander for 10-15 minutes to drain (that will prevent the salsa from turning watery). Toss them with sweet onion, jalapeno, garlic, a touch of lemon juice, olive oil, basil and/or any herbs you love.
Miso Grilled Salmon with Tomato Avocado Salsa: The recipe is all there!
This month’s CookStack Collective class will be led by Betty Williams this week on Friday, August 21 (at 3 pm ET). She’ll teach you how to make homemade kimchi, demystifying at-home fermentation. Classes are free for all premium subscribers, and you can register at the hidden link below (not hidden if you’re a premium subscriber), or you can hop to this page to get the full line-up.
Wishing you a wonderful week, and remember to nourish yourself with intention and love. ❤️
xo, Nicki
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