Wood-fired, wild-yeasted, whole grain
The Song of Oswald, my unpublished novel set in 14th century England, has three main characters. Richard is the dour monk, ejected from his abbey at the beginning of the story, a bit of a sad-sack. Oswald is Richard’s long-lost brother, a renegade, a “Robin Hood” character, the polar opposite to Richard.… Continue reading
You can see it in paintings from the old world, an enormous loaf on a table along with roasted meats, overflowing bowls of fruit, flagons of wine. The bread is rustic, crusty and the sight of it, along with everything else on the table, evokes taste, aroma, a sense of plenty, celebration.… Continue reading
A Happy Monk customer once told me that the next best thing to eating Happy Monk bread is reading the Happy Monk blog.
Well, let’s not get too far ahead of ourselves. But I was surprised to look back, a while ago, and find that there were now over 70 blog posts! “My god!” I thought, “that’s turning into a small body of work!”… Continue reading
Even during the recent days of fire-smoke, I relished my late afternoon swims. The tide is high. The water is clear and flat, often with barely a ripple on the surface. I stand knee-deep on the foreshore, looking out at the pink sky or into the smoky murk. I’m surrounded by the familiar landscapes, the rocky cliffs behind, the Living Rock Island in our little bay, the rocks 30 feet offshore I like to swim out to.… Continue reading
I don’t know what to make of the fire-smoke that has shrouded our view this past week.
It seems unbelievable that the particulate in the air, the grit, and ash that settles on our windows, cars, and shrubs, comes from burning forests in California, Oregon, Washington.… Continue reading