Since we sold our house last fall and began a series of moves that has yet to end, I have been very firm with myself about not buying any new books until we settle in our new town. No extra things to move that way. I love good books the way some women love shoes. I’ve managed to keep feeding the addiction with the kindle app on my iPhone, reading digital volumes that won’t add to the weight of moving boxes. But without the feel and smell of general satisfaction of ink on pages, it’s just not quite the same.
With the end of moves in sight and vegetable stands lining the road to the island strained under the weight of early summer’s bounty, I succumbed when I saw this 2-inch volume.
Curled up on the couch with it last night, I poured over it’s pages. It’s laid out like an encyclopedia of southern produce, and when I found a recipe for muscadine grape pie, I knew I’d uncovered a gold mine. The musky and distinctive odor of ripe muscadines in the sun of my childhood back yard shimmered in my memory, and I quickly requested my husband add the grapes to his garden plans for our future yard.
Can’t wait to try out these concoctions.