day one, two ways.

at the taco truck. again.

so today i started the master cleanse.  i did it a couple of years ago and have been wanting to do it for the past few months.  but then the thanksgiving-christmas-new year’s entertaining-cooking-eating began (which included goose confit hash with poached eggs, fondue, salted caramel pie, souffles, tarte tatin, cassoulet…).  so here i am, writing about food while i am taking a break from it.   sigh.  thankfully for me, getting a look together provides a different and equally fulfilling satisfaction.
i love having people over.  for dinner or brunch or drinks, a bbq, for a sleepover.  and i love that my people know that when they come over they may expect much deliciousness to eat, plenty of booze to drink & that i will be dressed for the occasion.  my life is a collection of food & outfit memory.  there were the overly-pocketed, off-white, francois marithe et girbaud pants, opa’s slouchy brown turtleneck & gauzy gold-threaded & fringed scarf that i wore on the first day of high school when amy, in a fourteen candles moment, shared her sushi with me.  i felt so grown-up in my hand-sewn, three-piece, dusty-rose and powder-blue floral-print ensemble as i drank shirley temples & ate a hot pastrami with sauerkraut on rye at the deli on union street with my dad when i was eight.  i remember rushing home on the 1 california to change into a sunshine-yellow, ribbed mock-turtleneck, white, mexican embroidered peasant skirt with rick-rack edging & cowboy boots before my best friend & i decided to cook a dinner of farfalle in a creamy, herb-y sauce, together, for the boy we both loved.