Had a nice bit of leftovers from Thanksgiving, so I decided to take the Bun Lai approach to a meal, and turned some into a nice little roll. Really, all it is, as you can see above, is a wrap with goat cheese, Chinese oyster sauce, pickled wild onions (from our yard), turkey, and cucumber slices. Then wrap it tight, much tighter than a burrito. And with a sharp knife cut into sections (see below). With alittle sriracha this was delicious. The following day I tried it with avocado, as well. Eating things this way forces you to take note of the ingredients, and take care with each bite. You eat less and feel fuller afterward. And, dare I say it, you enjoy it more. Try it with your next leftovers, maybe from one of the dishes in A History of Connecticut Food.
October at Nomad's End
by Eric D. Lehman
Our first autumn on the mountain was the hardest.
The land had not given up its secrets, and the summer work
had nearly crushed us. Our bodies cracked and creaked
their way around the craggy traprock paths, decaying
from the inside, beginning a long decline. Winter awaits
a numbed finger, a wounded hip, a dragging foot, but more –
the logs we chopped, the books we wrote, the bonds we made.
Our hands are older now. But nuthatches thank us, and cats
curl around the thought of a stretch by the roaring fire.
There is work to be done on that mountain yet, endless
work, with small success and comfort at the end, a few
bright days, a shelf of books, and the memory
of being held tightly under flannel sheets. Love
is the truest victory, but not the only one, and those
of us who toil in the high, poetic mountains
must struggle each year, and one day build not hope
but happiness—not spring, but autumn.