The world does spin

Beverages of the morning and evening... I must say though, that latte was definitely for a customer, not for me. And that wine was not at all what I was expecting. Much too sweet and sparkly, not at all what I was going for. But oh well. Today I made Latvian Stew for house-family dinner.

Catching up on Lia's Vlogmas while I cook. Had a cup of tea.

“Yes, thought the Count, the world does spin. In fact, it spins on its axis even as it revolves around the sun. And the galaxy turns as well, a wheel within a greater wheel, producing a chime of an entirely different nature than that of a tiny hammer in a clock. And when that celestial chime sounds, perhaps a mirror will suddenly serve its truer purpose - revealing to a man not who he imagines himself to be, but who he has become.”   --A Gentleman in Moscow, Amor Towles

As many of you know, this dish is inspired by A Gentleman in Moscow, one of my favorite books and one I reread every year. I start it again in January. Here's the recipe for you, if you like. It's from the Advent section of the book, and I find my mind flitting back to it these days. Nina's grave appreciation of her Christmas gift and what it said of the Gentleman's understanding. The fur coats in the vestibule. The nervous couple selecting wine to accompany their stew...

“The onions thoroughly caramelized, the pork slowly braised, and the apricots briefly stewed, the three ingredients come together in a sweet and smoky medley that simultaneously suggests the comfort of a snowed-in tavern and the jangle of a Gypsy tambourine.”

Last year I made the stew for my small Christmas party. I'll insert photos here:

"Tonight I'm having some of my siblings over for dinner. Latvian stew and wine. Salad and green beans. Pavlova and spiced cutouts and coffee. Napkins shaped like elf-hats, red dishes, and silver candlesticks. The White Christmas soundtrack, a puzzle in progress, and this large cozy bnb to explore."

Tonight's will be less glamorous. But I hope the flavors can be just as transportive. That's what it's about, after all, isn't it? How food and sound and scent can lift the spirit, and call to mind all manner of settings and seasons. You can shut your eyes and imagine you're in another country, another moment. It's an experience as transformative as watching an exceptional sunset. Christmas is such a nostalgic season, I think. We've collected thousands of years worth of traditions and memories, associations and aesthetics. It's terribly eclectic. We've even taken pagan traditions, redeemed them in the name of the Lord (he's creator of all this evergreen, and bringer of light in dark places, after all) and brought them with joy into this sacred, celebratory time. May it ever be so...

Kathi made bread and we dished up. I had to switch to water because the juice (I can't even call it wine!) was far too sweet to go with this rich stew. Next time I'll have a better pairing. But the soup was nourishing and satisfying. Satiating on a cold-wind night. We discussed books and politics and the problems of the world. I'm hoping to steal off for a bit more writing tonight. I've just realized I don't work tomorrow, and its the best news I'm tellin you. Real soul-warming comfort in that thought...

 The memories are coming like a glinting string of lights
In variegated color-schemes of shadows and delights
By now my years of celebrating Christmases are several
Season of light, of Advent wreaths, and Maccabean candle

Traditions carried every year, in food in song and story
The joyous shock of God incarnate, telling of the glory
Three siblings to enjoy them with, and more at age eleven
One star of hope in all our joy, the baby sent from heaven

So many thoughts and festive times within that blessed season
Arranging wood nativities in glad anticipation
From decorating cookies, cakes, to trees and candy canes
We pray each task is permeated with a glad “He came!”

See you here tomorrow then,