This is a painting. If I could paint, this is the one I'd do.
That vegetal cumulus cloud back there, and the planks of cured meat in front. Color, contrast, composition. Lighting — pale, wintry light on the day before it might (but probably won't) snow here in suburban tract-home (mid-century! that counts for cool) Marin County. Pure art.
Yet it was lunch, and we ate it.
My friend Zoomie confessed to embracing winter and not fighting it. "It just wears you out and it doesn't change the weather one iota." Agreed.
So for the past few days we have been embracing warm comfort food. Simple stuff; nourishing. Fun. Fun is always good with food, even if it's just fun soup or fun bowls.
Man, it sounds like I am really trying to amp up the noble, humble loveliness of the food here.
It was just mashed potatoes and bacon!
But the mashed potatoes were actually champ, filled with sauteed scallions, spring onions and leeks. Goat butter. Buttermilk. You cannot eat a better plate of mashed potatoes.
And the pretty rashers were from Niman Ranch (sustainable, humane, tasty, yadda).
I loved this meal. I'd have it again in a Dublin minute, but we've got other comforty, warm, braisy plans for tomorrow, the coldest (predicted) day of the year.