Mr. Chopin and A Beautiful Gift

I'm not a musically-educated lass.

I just know what I enjoy listening to.

And music by my favorite composer, Frederic Chopin, tops the list.

I chose to use his name in the title of this blog because his music is so important to me; it's roots extend back to my childhood.

Here are some interesting facts about Mr. Chopin (who lived from 1810 to 1849):

• He rarely and always unwillingly played in public. 
• He lived off of the earnings he made from sales of his musical compositions and from giving piano lessons.
• He loved teaching others to play the piano, and while "the master's great heart always beat warmly for his pupils," he was very strict and many of his pupils left his company with tears spilling down their cheeks. 
• He was sick for nearly all of his short 39 years.  He was believed to have suffered from and ultimately succumbed to pulmonary tuberculosis.

While cooking on a recent stormy afternoon, I was struck by the similarities between cooking and composing.

Great effort is required for a composer to write down his music as it is born; to transcribe the secret chords, the hidden combinations conceived in his heart, transferred to his mind, and then delivered through a beautiful forest of nerve pathways to his fingers.  To stop, to record, to mark the notes on the measures...it's like being a passenger in a vehicle as someone is learning to drive a stick-shift:  halting and jerking.

Cooking is like making music.  Opening my spice cabinet is like rehearsing my music theory.  I know the character of each spice, it's smell, it's flavor.  But for me, as the cook-- the "kitchen composer" if you will--I get to take it one step further and decide how the spices and other ingredients will taste together.  And stopping in the midst of the creation to record a recipe can be challenging.

When I started this blog in August of 2010, I wrote a bit about why "Chopin" was in it's title:

Music is an inherent part of me. I've played the piano since I was 6.  While my piano-playing may be a bit rusty right now, two of my favorite pieces to play are Debussy's "Claire de Lune" and Beethoven's "Moonlight Sonata." Back in the day, before children and jobs and real-life responsibilities, I had those boogers memorized. Today, there's no room in my brain for 15 pages of sheet music, but someday...someday...I do plan to play them beautifully again.

When I am in the kitchen cooking, I almost always have music playing. My all-time favorite piece is Chopin's Nocturne in E minor, Op. 72, No. 1. It's beautifully mournful strains pierce my heart. And I love it. When it is playing, I feel more acutely aware of sights, sounds, colors, smells...so it is the perfect kitchen soundtrack. 

When I wrote that in August of 2010, I did not own a piano.  We simply didn't have room for it in our home.

But when we added on a small den last year, my husband specifically measured out one of the walls for a piano.

And then last Christmas, he surprised me with one.

The best gift.  Ever.

I've said it before, and I'll keep saying it because it's such a deep truth:  it feels so good to be known.

Our cozy den.

I am practicing my Chopin pieces almost daily and  falling in love with the piano all over again.  Any extra time is spent here, my fingers becoming graceful, flighty hummingbirds on her keys.

And I fly away on her music...

Living with Elmo...What?

Why the title for this blog?

Yesterday morning, I went to our local Farmer's Market, held on the heart-warming square of a nearby town, with a dear friend. She and I pushed Matthew around in his stroller - amidst a happy sea of kids, parents, grandparents, and dogs - and perused the lovely wares. The stands connect all the way around the square, and in the center, a shady, grassy common area - complete with a beautiful fountain - hosts those who cannot wait one more second to sample that perfectly ripe plum.

So...back to the blog title...I bought all sorts of yummies: perfectly fresh local peaches (so ripe that the juice dripped from my elbows when I ate one), yellow tomatoes, cherry tomatoes, a fragrant cantalope, and some scalloped squash. Just walking around, my mind was swirling with possible variations and recipes. I decided on a tomato salad, baked chicken, homemade biscuits, and a peach cobbler. When I returned home, Chris and Timothy were building the SkyFort (a wonderfully generous gift from Meme...it's almost complete!). I made a quick pizza for lunch, put the boys down for a nap, gave the dogs haircuts and baths, and then - finally - turned to preparing dinner. And at this point, I wasn't even thinking about reviving the blog. I was just floating on air with anticipation of cooking with beautiful, fresh ingredients.

I sliced the tomatoes, drizzled some olive oil over them, added a pinch of sea salt and a few cranks of fresh pepper, opened my kitchen window and pinched a few leaves of sweet basil out of the windowbox (oh, be still my beating heart!!) and tossed them in. The colors just popped. So gorgeous. I put some chicken thighs (that looks so gross written out) in a large bowl, drenched them with Italian dressing and a few other ingredients, and set them in the fridge to marinate. Turning to the peaches, I peeled and sliced and mixed with brown sugar, cinnamon, corn starch, a few grates of fresh nutmeg, and some lemon juice and set those to macerate, also in the fridge.

Please venture with me down one more background-sharing bunny trail. Music is an inherent part of me. I've played the piano since I was 6. My mother loves classical music, and gratefully instilled this love in my own heart. While my piano-playing may be a bit rusty right now, two of my favorite pieces to play are Debussy's "Claire de Lune" and Beethoven's "Moonlight Sonata." Back in the day, before children and jobs and real-life responsibilities, I had those boogers memorized. Today, there's not room in my brain for 15 pages of sheet music, but someday...someday...I do plan to play them beautifully again.

So when I am in the kitchen cooking, I almost always have music playing. It is usually streaming out of my iPod docking station. What a wide variety of music is on that thing, from "Baby Got Back" (you cannot deny it's a great workout & house-cleaning tune!) to "Ave Maria" performed by Sarah Brightman to Ella Fitzgerald's "Dancin' Cheek to Cheek". But, my all-time favorite piece is Chopin's Nocturne in E minor, Op. 72, No. 1. It's beautifully mournful strains pierce my heart. And I love it. When it is playing, I feel more acutely aware of sights, sounds, colors, smells...so it is the perfect kitchen soundtrack. Now that I am fairly addicted to Pandora Radio, Mr. Chopin and I spend a lot of time together. So, five paragraphs later, there is the reasoning behind the first phrase of my blog title.

And living with Elmo? Well, lest anyone have false visions of my life and think that I am able to spend uninterrupted time in the kitchen (or anywhere else, for that matter), I thought I should add a description to let it be known that while I appreciate cooking and fine music, I also have two small children and no shortage of kid-stuff strewn about the house. And yes, my countertops may occasionally be dotted with jewels of peach cobblers and heirloom tomato salads, but more often you will find matchbox race cars, pacifiers, a partially transformed Transformer, and a dripping sippy cup.

Yesterday evening, after I had prepared the above-described meal, I was inspired by its gorgeousness and started taking photos. It was during this process that I decided to revive the blog. Not because I want to brag or show off, but because I want to SHARE. Share my heart, my dreams, my enthusiam for all things yummy and beautiful. And the realities (and hilarity) of life with small children.

Buttermilk Biscuits

Plated Deliciousness: Heirloom Tomato Salad, Baked Chicken and Buttermilk Biscuits

Let me just zoom out a little for you here, so you can see what was really going on as I snapped these photos.

That's our Matthew (16 months old). A few seconds before I took this, he had his right knee on the table and his left hand on the wine glass. And that was after he pulled the newspapers off of the chair and spilled the dog's water.

And a little more real-life for you: here's what I had to add to my beautiful dinner to ensure the boys would actually eat something.

That's right. Disgusting, rubbery, microwaved Easy-Mac.


Sigh. Life is so beautiful!