I am moving to Paris.
That is a random thought brought on by watching a quirky, creative tidbit of a series on Amazon Prince called, “Alice in Paris.”
I was looking up cooking shows. I would like to learn how to cook some Chinese type food. Not the real kind with duck feet and cat and dog and other things I that I have seen on Bizarre Foods, but the Asian Paradise kind.
We used to go to a restaurant in Cincinnati called Asian Paradise. They served the best sesame chicken. It was made with delightfully tender chicken, battered and fried, with the most delicious sauce. I miss it.
The thing about Chinese cooking, or my idea of Chinese cooking, is that it uses a lot of ingredients that I don’t have. I have begun to pick some up. I now have Hoison sauce and sesame oil. I think I need a cooking class because I think it has techniques involved.
Sometimes, it is fun to go to a Chinese carryout and listen to the sizzling woks and watch the cooks throw food in them and flip and stir the ingredients. And they know how to do it without decimating snow peas. For some reason, I obliterate them.
Oh, I love egg rolls and spring rolls, but haven’t gotten into sushi. I tried it once and returned to the rice.
How did I get from moving to Paris to coooking Chinese?
Not to mention, the sun is so golden and gorgeous streaming from my front office, all the way to the kitchen. This is the time of year when the sun is beautiful in our house. In summer. Our big room and kitchen, tend to be dark in the morning. And at our old house, we had brilliantly beautiful morning light that shone through the windows. I could see the rays and the dust.
This light on this morning, remind me of that lovely light.
I am a connoisseur of light. If you enjoy and have done photography, you know how important light is. Beautiful, wonderful light is a gift. I love the Southern light. Yes, I love to capitalize Southern, in some cases. In many cases.
There are times that I follow the light. There are times that I also try to capture the light in my memory and with a camera.
The other morning, I was at my son’s house. My grandson was standing in front of a kitchen window, eating a crepe his mom had made. His face and upper body were rimmed with light. I mentioned it, as he likes photography, and I took my iPhone and took a photo and showed him.
I am looking at a rectangle of light on my sofa. It is the only brightness on the dark teal. To me, that is magic. Light from the sun, so far away, is making a picture on my couch. It is a picture that will only last for a short amount of time. It will move … change … disappear.
I think Paris must have nice light. I have been there, if you call landing at De Gaulle airport and eating a piece of baguette in the terminal, a trip to Paris.
I think not.
I believe Paris must have good light because so many artists paint there.
In this lifetime, I will not be living in Paris. Maybe I wouldn’t even like it, but at this moment, that doesn’t matter. The dream, the flighty thought, is valuable of this moment. I will just have to learn to make my puff pastry and my own croissant.
The young girl in the quirky short episodes, and her attitude and flirty, fun actions made me want to be in Paris at the time of my life when I was flirty and flirty and skipped and was more naive. If I lived there now, I doubt I would skip, or flit too much. I would be wondering where a restroom was and look at things like cleanliness and whether people were friendly and whether what i was served had organ meat in it.
Yep, this is a ramble, folks. Jump on and off the ramble train. Actually, I love Hop On, Hop Off buses when I am in a new city.
The light picture on my couch, just went away. Gone. The light has changed in this room. I saw it, but couldn’t hang onto it.
That is sort of like life. It comes. It changes. And then, poof, it is over. Well, not OVER, over, but that moment won’t come, again.
And then, at some point it will be gone.
I would rather think about Paris and croissants and chasing light and learning how to cook some delicious Chines food.
And my feet are cold. I need to put my shoes on.