There’s a tunnel that crosses under South Temple, connecting a grade school to its playground across the street. I use it to get to work most days.
As I enter (from either direction), it reminds me:
Today! I chose Apple.
Things I learned while baking this pie:
1- You can’t just swap out most of the all-purpose flower for whole wheat flour. You really just can’t. Not even if it’s King Arthur brand. (I wound up throwing out the first batch of dough and starting over).
2- Don’t listen to my mom when she says to use the food processor to make the crust, because the butter chunks will go from marble-sized to practically invisible before you know it, completely bypassing the “pea-sized” ideal. Then the crust turns out thin and crispy, like a cracker. But it still looks pretty.
Never thought I’d get so into non-fiction (and I do think that it says something about this category that it has to be defined in terms of what it’s not…), but then this guy came along:
I mean, look at how he writes: (from The Tipping Point)
“We are all, at heart, gradualists, our expectations set by the steady passage of time.”
“Weisberg has a low, raspy voice, baked hard by half a century of nicotine, and she pauses between sentences to give herself the opportunity for a quick puff. Even when she’s not smoking, she pauses anyway, as if to keep in practice for those moments when she is.”
Awesome. Here’s some other stuff from that book:
“In a way, the desire to be of service and influence–whatever it is–can be taken too far. You can become nosy…You have to remember that it’s their decision. It’s their life.” (Mark Alpert)
“I even remember sitting upstairs in his sister’s bedroom…separating the seeds out of some pot on the cover of a Grateful Dead album…The draw for me was the badness of it, and the adult-ness, and the way it proved the idea that you could be more than one thing at once.” (From Gladwell’s smoking questionnaire)
Fridays I hang out with my nephew.
He’s pretty bad ass. I pick him up from school and we walk home, passing lots of interesting stuff, like chickens and train tracks and donut factories. Then we have a snack and read Harry Potter together.
(He lets me stop to take pictures, which–if you hadn’t noticed–is my new thing. Documentation)