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Smoking Supper

June 14, 2011

In summertime, dinner moves outdoors. This brings welcome respite from an apartment that smells like the chicken I sauteed last night, the bacon I scorched for Sunday breakfast, and  the pasta to which I added a clove too much garlic. Windows open, grill smoking, sun setting, wine sweating. Too perfect to mess around trying to describe it with any more clumsy words.

A toast to the true kick-off of balcony season, dinner in the garden season, and bare feet at night so the mosquitoes can feast on ankles season. And, the season my carpet  takes a holiday from soaking up cooking smells and instead breathes a short shag sigh of relief.

 

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