Hello, friends. It’s been a while.
Don’t you hate those mea culpa posts, where a blogger apologizes for being totally lame and going weeks—nay, months—without writing?
It’s not that I haven’t been eating. I had a reasonably interesting meal up at Blue Hour in Portland, Oregon. Their bread was ridiculously good. And I give them huge props for offering a vegetarian entrée, right there on the menu proper. The only sad bit was how underwhelming the entrée turned out to be. In all honesty, I can’t quite remember what it was. I just recall feeling disappointed. I caught them on a bad night, perhaps? Everything else, including my appetizer (some sort of Beet Terrine) was fantastic.
Then there was my recent meal at Range.
Oh, Range. On again, off again, our love affair. The evening’s veggie offering (and again, I was glad to see they had one) was a Spring Vegetable Cassoulet with Portobello Mushrooms and Butter Beans. It turned out to be…confusing, for lack of a better word. A big, gooey mess on the plate, with an incongruously placed Dolma smack in the middle, like somebody dropped a half-smoked cigar in the pot. It all tasted fine, but fine in a footie-pajamas, mama made me comfort food sort of way. I suppose one could place the blame squarely on me for ordering a Cassoulet in the first place. But since it was the only veg option, that’s a bit like employing the “she was wearing a short skirt” defense, no?
I guess it comes down to this. This spring has been crap thus far, and I haven’t felt inspired to write. Everybody I know has had a rough start to the year, and I’m no exception. Are all our collective Saturns in return or something?
Fear not. I will survive, Gloria Gaynor style. Just gotta get out of this slump.