“Without the ability to smell, taste is a mere whisper. After the accident, my taste buds registered salty, sweet, bitter and sour. But there was nothing more. While my fractured pelvis and torn knee ligaments eventually healed, milk remained a viscous liquid, steak a slimy rubber, and ice cream was little more than freezing.” – Molly Birnbaum, “Finally, the Scent of the City” for The New York Times
This means “I had a good birthday” in sleep speak.
We’re going to Jackson (Hole) and we’re taking Harvey with us. As a PI he’s accustomed to traveling in stealth.
And the jury says? It’s toasty and pillowy soft. It’s so smooth you almost don’t realize what your eating is cold. Matt ate his toasted marshmallow custard ice cream with his eyes half closed.
Just made toasted marshmallow ice cream w/ homemade marshmallows and an egg custard base. Wow. It reminds me of my first real egg custard in Maine.
Mom says if you’re going to make your own ice cream, you just *have* to do it up right with custard. Next up, sugar punkin’. Holiday cooking rules. And since I seem to have started off with one of the most complicated recipes possible, it’s all easy breezy from here on out. Two hours and I’ll be tucking into a big bowl a spoonful from Matt’s bowl, says he (after we licked the whole machine clean). Who doesn’t love ice cream in winter?
The snow storm on October 24th devastated Simsbury. My mom had around 100 trees down on the path around the property, including a couple of treacherous Old Maids (cracked but still attached branches that hang vertically). So we’ve been walking around the property as much as we can, pruning and clearing and macheting and chainsawing.
We can’t really fathom how a bunch of heavy snow can take down all these trees and limbs, but we’ve seen the results firsthand. It feels good to be out in the woods, breathing in the leave dust and feeling the chilly November air of New England. We can’t complain. It is good to be home.
Just wanted to share with you that my mother, the late Evelyn Sowers lived almost 30 years without a sense of smell. She ate on memory, and said she would give a dollar to smell a good “pass of gas” She had a swine flue shot in 1975 and lost her sense of smell after that.
July 6th, 2009 at 1:47 pm