“I sat with my back against the drafty Victorian window, my gray wool sweater being lapped through the pane by Long Island Sound’s November winds and my ears like a beach, caressed by waves of conversations swelling in the kitchen . . .”
“When it comes to soups, I have to admit that I haven’t always been the first in line. It’s not as if I had a childhood barren of the stuff as for every grilled cheese sandwich Mom made up there was also tomato soup to boot. Warm and rich tomato soup with fresh cracked black pepper and oyster crackers . . .”
I laid there, beneath my layered down-feathered blankets listening to the sound of the coffee maker begin to perk. Without my glasses the room radiated a copper-amber hue. The house was church-mouse quiet, unlit fire, no one was up yet. . .
This savory side makes for an excellent starter or can be served in lieu of a baguette. It is absolutely impossible to eat just one or two – or even three . . .
In the unforgettable words of Mr. Beauregarde from “Charlie and the Chocolate Factory”, “Violet, you’re turning violet, Violet!” has begged me lately, have I been that grating, consuming purple little