I drive past the tall, toast-colored grasses of the marsh on my way to the grocery store, and I remember the feeling of the volcanic rock path on Mount Fuji. To me, they are the same gift.
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| July light on the shallows of Lake Michigan |
Wednesday, November 16, 2011
My Daily Gift
Nature doesn't ask anything. When I go, it is there. When I stay, it is there. The mist at the bottom of Rainbow Falls in Gorges State Park or the scent of the mock orange blossoms in my neighbor's yard is equal pleasure.
I drive past the tall, toast-colored grasses of the marsh on my way to the grocery store, and I remember the feeling of the volcanic rock path on Mount Fuji. To me, they are the same gift.
I drive past the tall, toast-colored grasses of the marsh on my way to the grocery store, and I remember the feeling of the volcanic rock path on Mount Fuji. To me, they are the same gift.
Monday, November 7, 2011
Macintosh Monday dinner
Tomorrow morning there is going to be a lot of writing, or at least, the thoughts of a lot of writing, about The Macintosh, a new restaurant by The Indigo Group down on Upper King Street, Charleston. There was a lot of media types eating and enjoying tonight, and you know how media (esp. in Charleston) like to talk about what they're eating ...
First, I should say, Jeff Allen of The City Paper wrote a perfect piece about the place and its amazing chef -- and he wrote that more than a month ago.
However, this restaurant is the "feel like it's been there forever" type of place that still has you excited about the food (despite the fact it smells like new wood). Namely, the appetizer of rabbit, unctuous and beautiful and punctuated by little cherry tomatoes that burst in your mouth. Now if the thought of rabbit wrinkles your nose in the way that people wrinkle their noses when they are scared of food, then, well, The Macintosh is not for you.
But The Macintosh is for me. Yeah, it sounds pretentious, and you're right, I am when it comes to having an open palate. But visit O-Ku or The Cocktail Club or The Macintosh and find yourself there. I do, and it is the best version of myself. Not the "hey, I just ate a funnel cake" self but the self that cares about the balance of flavors in the midst of a balanced decor.
I would've taken a picture, but I was enjoying myself too much ... go and see and enjoy too.
First, I should say, Jeff Allen of The City Paper wrote a perfect piece about the place and its amazing chef -- and he wrote that more than a month ago.
However, this restaurant is the "feel like it's been there forever" type of place that still has you excited about the food (despite the fact it smells like new wood). Namely, the appetizer of rabbit, unctuous and beautiful and punctuated by little cherry tomatoes that burst in your mouth. Now if the thought of rabbit wrinkles your nose in the way that people wrinkle their noses when they are scared of food, then, well, The Macintosh is not for you.
But The Macintosh is for me. Yeah, it sounds pretentious, and you're right, I am when it comes to having an open palate. But visit O-Ku or The Cocktail Club or The Macintosh and find yourself there. I do, and it is the best version of myself. Not the "hey, I just ate a funnel cake" self but the self that cares about the balance of flavors in the midst of a balanced decor.
I would've taken a picture, but I was enjoying myself too much ... go and see and enjoy too.
Thursday, November 3, 2011
Post-Halloween ghosts
Yes, Halloween is the coming out party for many a ghost story, but the people who like to research ghost stories like to do so all year. Like, for instance, Michael Renegar and Amy Spease, authors of Ghost Stories of the Triad.
It might be a sunny Saturday, their only day off, but they're tucked up in a dusty corner of a library floor, researching the death toll of a long-forgotten structure fire. Or it might be a cool evening, better suited to homemade chili and a Monday night football game on TV, and instead, they're beaming flashlights onto uneven graveyard turf.
So just because Halloween is past, don't forget the hardworking ghost hunters who work all year to make your Halloween extra special ... and bring you special ghost stories about places you know, stories that are special any time of year.
It might be a sunny Saturday, their only day off, but they're tucked up in a dusty corner of a library floor, researching the death toll of a long-forgotten structure fire. Or it might be a cool evening, better suited to homemade chili and a Monday night football game on TV, and instead, they're beaming flashlights onto uneven graveyard turf.
So just because Halloween is past, don't forget the hardworking ghost hunters who work all year to make your Halloween extra special ... and bring you special ghost stories about places you know, stories that are special any time of year.
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