1. The Franschhoek Literary Festival: I attended for the first time with my friend Paige Dorkin. That's her in the image above, taken late last Saturday afternoon — we stayed in an old house with a clementine orchard, which we wandered through at dusk, talking about husbands and writing and books and, yes, gossiping a little. It was a magical weekend, if a little overwhelming, and I am quite anxious that I have to wait an entire year for the next one. Highlights included Margie Orford and Rebecca Davis (I want to be just like them when I grow up), Tim Noakes debating heart surgeon Lionel Opie (a bit of a farce, but an entertaining farce), and Redi Tlhabi chairing a debate on racism. I've been having flashbacks all week.
2. Encountering a gorgeous new food blog always gives rise to my obsessive tendencies, but for Local Milk, a blog by writer/cook/photographer Beth Evelyn who lives in Tennessee, I've fallen hard. When I read the opening lines of this post, I felt a swelling my my chest and my heart started yammering against my ribs... She writes like a dream. She writes the way I want to write. So that was it, what I was feeling: pure envy. Along with a hefty dose of awe, and the first fervent flutterings of infatuation. I actually might have to stay away for a while because her writing makes me feel ill with longing for the Deep South. (This woman's writing also makes me ache.)
3. My Son of Burnard winged pendant arrived in the post this week. I love it.
4. I've made this crazy-simple Lamb neck stew with lemon & thyme three times now, and I just can't get enough. A handful of everyday ingredients (lamb, thyme, lemon, olive oil and stock [optional], black pepper) get naked in a pot together and make sweet, sweet love to each other, resulting in a kind of unctuous, umami-flavoured crack. Seriously, it's addictive. I recommend it with bread, as pictured, and this salad.
5. I've discovered whiskey. A committed wine drinker, I couldn't see the point of venturing into new alcoholic waters when I was so happy drinking wine, but I had to write an article about whisky recently, so in the name of research, naturally, I drank the stuff. I think that's the key — the more you learn, the more interesting the subject of study becomes. Somehow, suddenly, I found myself intrigued. And then drunk. But the intrigued bit is the important part. So, yeah, me and whiskey, who knew? I have a small glass next to me, right now, of Monkey Shoulder Blended Malt Scotch Whiskey, and I'm utterly enamoured of it. (If you'd like to read about what I gleaned on the subject, grab a copy of the August issue of Fairlady magazine.)
