Lavendar and Wildflower Honey Crème Brulèe

Now that I live in Sonoma and the temps reach the 70’s daily, it’s difficult to consider a deep read of fiction. Not that I would have access to it, given that my books are in a deluge of boxes in the garage. But, naked now of the sub zero temperatures and howling winds that drive the mind to grow a new imagination, I find myself reading a cookbook. I linger on every word. ‘Garnish’, ‘ramekin’, ‘lavendar blossom’, ‘mesclun greens’, ‘toasty flavor’, ‘fig jam’.

While waiting for the moving truck (four days late), I found myself getting a salad to go from the charming and apparently acclaimed restaurant, The Girl and the Fig. The artwork alone makes you want to try everything. I went in for a salad and walked out with a salad, bread and fig jam, fig lotion, more jam, a side of eggs (need protein in stressful times) and a cookbook that I can’t keep my face out of. The staff was all too happy to chat with me about ‘whatever’ even though they were super busy. I wanted them to adopt me, take me home, give me a bed to sleep on and serve me Crème Brulee because the floor at my house was getting old; as I waited for the driver who had been subpoenaed for sleeping on the side of the road in the truck, and had no keys to drive the truck for awhile.

I took my food in boxes to the park and tried to convince my body that I was in ‘real warmth’, this is the real sun and it’s okay to relax and enjoy. After lunch I fell asleep in the grass. It was like a dream. I woke up with red tail hawks flying above and the view of a man in a convertible mini reading a book. Coming from Boulder, a place where there is lots of mental and physical space, I had forgotten that people sneak away to parks often in the Bay Area for an ample slice of non-demanding privacy.

Somehow in this place of plenty, Sonoma CA, reading a cookbook instead of fiction is perfect. And today, as I make Creamy Polenta, Braised Chicken with Prunes and Olives, Lavendar and Wildflower Honey Crème Brulee from my new cookbook, and assume a normal workday, I’ll be looking out my backyard at the bunny hut, a palm tree, a huge oak tree that seems to keep the Sonoma Creek safe and two baby redwood trees that Dakota goes a little nuts around when he smells them.

So, why leave Boulder and move to Sonoma? ...you are wondering. I’ll give you a hint. I needed warmth and my poor lungs couldn’t take the altitude in Boulder. And it was time to come home. But there's more! There’s always more…and much that I have yet to discover. Like maybe I couldn’t live without The Girl and the Fig Cookbook and Dakota couldn’t live without those redwoods and Caila his better half can’t live without both of us being healthy and happy. That’s the kind of rabbit Caila is, very sensitive and caring. Unlike her unruly but extremely characterized counter part Dakota.

Dakota says, ‘Any place with this many smells has gotta be good.’

ps: He's jealous of the rooster that wakes me up at dawn because he knows that's one of my favorite things and he hasn't refined his vocal chords beyond a grunt here and tiny sneeze there...

Comments

[Rosemary Carstens]

Niya: It sounds so wonderful! I'm going to send an email to ask more questions. Keep up the blog--those of us still in the cold need a dose of California to brighten our days! xo Rosemary

[Ben G.]

Well, so that's what's been going on. Figs=Nomad. Maybe it's dates, or banana slugs on rewood trees. They love curly red-headed women in Sonoma. I know; I was once there and fell in love with one. But, alas, alack that was sooooo long ago. Anyway I'm glad your happy,and your body has been heared; write.
Ben G.

[Claire Walter]

Good luck in your (re)new(ed) home. Send us a CARE package full of fresh figs, and we'll have everything that some of us need here in Colorado! :-)

[Claire Walter]

Good luck in your (re)new(ed) home. Send us a CARE package full of fresh figs, and we'll have everything we need here!

[Verna Wilder]

Niya, it sounds like you have come home! Good for you for knowing you needed figs, for knowing that in your body before figs even came into your mind. I know you will savor every little bit of your life in Sonoma, as you did here in Boulder for your brief time with us. I like thinking of you sleeping in tall grass, blue sky overhead, red hawks . . .