I spent a good part of yesterday cooking:
pulled pork shoulder with homemade BBQ sauce,
vinaigrette potato salad, cabbage-yogurt slaw,
buttermilk biscuits, and a Pavlova for dessert.
The meringue for the Pavlova wept, then stuck
to the parchment, so it cracked and crevassed a bit
when I attempted to pry it free, but piled with whipped
cream and three kinds of berries, it utimately was glorious.
I'll never fail to be amazed that you can begin
with four egg whites -- slimy, translucent goo -- and end up
with a thick white puffy delicately-crunchy sweet
cumulous-cloud confection. I could have eaten
all of it myself. (But didn't.) Paul, PK and Ashley
shared it with me, sitting on the newly refinished deck,
pots of my new herbs surrounding us, in the generous shade
of maples, Douglas firs and cedars. Happy to be home.