News and Opinion from Sisters, Oregon
News and Opinion from Sisters, Oregon
Sorted by date Results 76 - 82 of 82
Never chic, never gracing the pedestal, never enduring the merciless glare of public adulation, the inglorious bean, our action-packed legumous pal, has a potent flaw that keeps it, if anywhere, on many back burners. This meek and simple-hearted seed, whose dignity is born of its prolific growth, its easy storage,and its subsequent usefulness to the proletariat, is largely shunned by the humorless gourmand because of its lush engagement with the average digestive system. We are social creatures. We want to be noticed, we... Full story
Mostly, I am normal. Average in almost every way including the usual scattering of opposing propensities. I do suffer, however, with autonomous tear ducts. I remember hearing for the first time, the term river of life, and thinking that I and my tears were a part of that, participants, contributors. Family legend has it that as a child, I could, for reasons of drama or trauma, conjure and expel tears in arcs, out from my body, dousing my comforters, and quickly bringing doom to my oppressors. As a hay fever victim I have... Full story
I write in my cookbooks. The exuberant star is the finest possible accolade. "Approved by children" is another high success notation. It happens to be written on a light and frivolous chocolate mousse which, once made, I must defend with an old shoe until the proper serving time has arrived. Somebody's birthday and the parenthetical date is a lovely message for a person of particularly sappy sentiments to find and find again and again. But there are, burning in my brain and carved into the pages of some of my culinary... Full story
Down deep, deep at the nether end of the list of those murky tasks that most of us despise and avoid, lies the moldering internal world of the refrigerator. Behind the cool, serene enamel doors, concealed behind the pristine facade of sanitary white or pebbled mauve, behind the comforting festoons of photos, reminders, lunch menus and inspirational verses attached with our cornball collection of magnets, lies a separate realm of slowly multiplying organisms. Daintily segregated, packaged with the purest intentions, airtight,... Full story
I am a student of religion. Most of us are, I would suppose. Amidst my travels in this regard, I have discovered an aspect of common thought that gave form and depth to a phenomenon familiar to me since my childhood. It is the notion of the life force within all things. Animate, inanimate, seen and unseen. All things are given personality thereby and, in varying degrees, one carries on relationships with them which are comparable to our relationships with humans. Not everyone feels this way. I'm sure there are people who... Full story
The dawn. Slowly emerging from the cozy wraps of night, invaded by logic and checkpoints, releasing abstractions, gathering thoughts and tensions, slipping into our daytime face, we rise; we shine. This is the hour of most rituals. We mark the day here in our most personal space, before the door swings open and we are launched out onto the great dance floor and the bright lights of day. If the world was different, simpler, we would act only according to our best impulses and not suffer imposing time schedules and the... Full story
I am a cook. All day I clank and fling and measure and stir in a small kitchen so that my large family might eat well and be nourished. I began learning to cook because I deplored boxed food, I refused to starve, and I couldn't afford restaurant fare on a student's budget. So I collected money from my friends and fed them. Then we all washed the dishes and made coffee and spent the long night expounding theories, maligning the government, critiquing various literary movements, falling in love, plotting what we felt were... Full story
