I’m a bit late in wishing you all a very happy 2009 — but I’ve always heard that New Year’s wishes are welcome through January, so I hope it’s still timely.
I won’t forget 2008. It was an extraordinary year for us: rich, fulfilling, and full of surprises.
There were many memorable trips P. and I took, each different in style and each leaving us with warm memories. Work brought rewarding moments too: continuing contributions to the Boston Globe Food section and collaborating on photography for a baker’s cookbook that will be released in the future. And there’s more to come.
Last year I cooked a lot, styled and photographed hundreds of dishes — and anyone with a digital camera knows how quickly storage fills up. I also collected more cups, bowls, plates, and cutlery than I can count (a fact my darling P. kindly reminds me of), and I loved every piece of it.
Beyond the cooking, styling, and photography, 2008 brought something far more profound and life-changing: the arrival of our little bébé. Carrying our treasured baby for nine months was a journey unlike any other — so ordinary and yet so utterly unique.
I remember the day P. and I discovered we were expecting. It was late April, the day we left for Italy. We were stunned, overwhelmed, and excited all at once. That news reshaped the entire year for us in the most rewarding way — we know how lucky we are.
Throughout those months many of you kept visiting the blog to say hello, leave encouraging notes, share stories, ask questions, and chat about food and life. I can’t thank you enough. I don’t always have time to reply to every comment, but please know that each one matters and brings a smile. Thank you, truly.
To close 2008 and start 2009, I want to share the story behind this berry pavlova and its recipe.
When I made this dessert I intended to taste it, but I never did — and the reason is one of those life moments that changes everything.
On December 23rd, P. and I had planned a casual dinner with four dear friends before the holiday rush and before bébé’s arrival. My friend L. was very pregnant too. Her husband suggested keeping it simple and ordering takeout. I volunteered to prepare a quick dessert: a pavlova.
That morning I ran downtown for last-minute Christmas shopping, baked cookies (which I photographed), made panna cotta, and then began the pavlova. I told P. I’d pick him up at seven after my massage and that I could leave the dessert in the car to keep it cool.
At five o’clock I headed to the next town for my massage, eager for some relaxation. As the masseuse asked when the baby was due and whether I had any discomfort, I laughed and said I felt pretty good and was ready even though bébé was due in ten days.
A. didn’t get to finish. Ten minutes into the massage my water broke and labor began. Lulu simply couldn’t wait to meet the world.
We stopped home to finish packing and grab a bite before heading to the hospital. We called our friends to let them know we couldn’t make dinner. J. offered to bring food, and I told P. I’d give him the pavlova so it wouldn’t go to waste and so our friends could enjoy it while thinking of our new adventure.
Lulu is four weeks old today. Life has changed and tastes even better despite the tiredness and the puffy eyes. We are happy and overwhelmed by emotions I hadn’t known before. Each day brings new lessons and challenges — and I keep cooking, even the simplest meals.
“Stop cooking and rest,” my friend N. advised when I told her about the lamb tajine we had. I laughed — rest yes, stop cooking no; she doesn’t know me that well.
Lulu and I have already made cookies, soups, stews, and salads together. She nestles close against my chest in a sling while I talk to her about what I’m preparing. Mostly she sleeps through it, but I like to imagine she’s already soaking in the smells and the gentle clatter of pots and pans.
I dedicate this pavlova to our little princess. One day P. and I will tell her the story of how her arrival interrupted dinner plans — it’s a memory that makes us smile.
Happy New Year to everyone. May your year be wonderful, and thank you for being here.
