delayed flights and fried green tomatoes

green tomato slabs
green tomato slabs

What else do you do on a flight that’s been delayed, dropping you at your destination in the middle of the night? Some people read; the smarts ones sleep. Not me. I start thinking about food and how I’d love to have a drink of water, but I hate how they charge you an astronomical amount of money for a tiny bottle of water. So, since sleep eludes me and my thirst isn’t life-threatening, writing is a quite suitable way to pass the time.

I finally picked the first tomato from my very slow growing plants. In the meantime, I’ve visited my farm stand. It’s not actually mine. I don’t own it or even work at it, but I do frequent it, so in that regard it’s mine. Continue reading

hey there

coffee!
coffee!

 

Welcome to my new site. As you can see it’s not quite put together, much like me in the morning before having that essential cup of coffee swirled with enough cream to make it blonde, like me.

After writing for an on-line publication for the past three years, I decided it was time for something different. When writing articles, one has to leave out vital words like “I” and “me.” When it comes to food, I get more than a little animated, so those types of words spill out. Now, I do have to admit, that several pieces have had a touch of “blogging” enthusiasm, but on this stage, I’m free to digress and blather about good food, simply prepared.

My intention for “thyme, and everything else” is to not only dole out recipes, which can be gleaned from cookbooks and googled to infinity, but to share stories of food. The history of where certain foods come from is fascinating; or how we associate particular dishes with holidays or gatherings. Like, why do we only make s’mores when we’re camping? Who says there has to be a raging bonfire to melt chocolate and toast marshmallows to be crammed between two chunks of graham crackers? I shrug my shoulders at this one.

I like to eat…and there are heaps of edible goodies to be consumed. These two declarations embrace each other, and the consequence is pure happiness for my palate.

happy + eating = me

Missy