It's hard to believe I did this already. And not once, but with eight kids. I guess we just lose some of our ability to bounce back with age. And she was such a little trooper. Puking one moment then saying she was sorry the next. As if it were her fault that she's sick. About 4 o'clock, she was finally feeling better. Of course that's just before I would have had reinforcements to help me care for her.
So anyway. NPR had a nice report on a cook:
Diana Kennedy's home in Michoacan, Mexico, sits at the end of a long dirt road that can only be accessed by pickup or four-wheel drive.
Heavy rains have turned her rambling gardens into a swath of jungle dense with ingredients: apricot and fig trees; chayote vines from Veracruz, Mexico; and a thatch of weeds underfoot that's thick with herbs.
Originally from Britain, Kennedy moved to Mexico in 1957, and she's been traveling the country in search of recipes, new dishes and the perfect tamale ever since. She became a leading expert on authentic Mexican cooking after she published The Cuisines of Mexico in 1972.
I wish I could say I knew her. But unless you're a weekend PBS cook, I usually don't.
This is C.I.'s "Iraq snapshot" for Monday: