Did you tune in for The Amish documentary on PBS’s American Experience last night? It’s a beautiful, thoughtful film – the visuals are breathtaking, the score is lovely, the stories make you weep, and you learn without fully realizing how much information you’re absorbing. It was pretty neat to work under the same roof with most of the production team, watching as they toiled to get access, find the stories, shoot, edit, and craft the film. Kudos to them and the crew.
Almost an entire winter without snow and in one weekend in Vermont, we get over a foot, with deadly icicles to match.
While the rest of the family skied through the whiteout, I caught up on reading, stirred the chili, drank a full pot of tea, and experimented with a loaner camera from work. A big, heavy lens makes even the most amateur of novices feel skillful, even one who is scared to turn off the automatic settings…
Coasting in on the aftershock as usual, I just heard Punch Brothers for the first time on the radio this morning. Believe it or not, there are some really, really awesome people in this world who still listen to music radio and don’t have cable.
These guys are so good I sat in the car for three minutes after the parking meter ran out so I could listen to the whole song. Straight up risked a $300 parking ticket, or whatever gouge-tastic rate the Brookline meter maids are doling out these days. Worth it just to bask in the dexterous banjo playing and bow slaps, the singing weaved up, down, through, and around all manner of scales.
Has anyone seen them live? Seems like that would be ridiculous. They are playing in Burlington on Saturday, a short hop from Stowe where I’ll be traipsing around this weekend through the non-snow, not skiing. With headphones on. Probably listening to Punch Brothers.
A long stretch of morning means the Moka Pot comes out and we get crafty with dark, viscous coffee and steamed whole milk. There are a lot of opinions on how best to brew, but we generally follow the same steps outlined here, with good results.
The few moments of uncertainty in the water-heating waiting time are replaced with the warmth of success when the coffee bubbles up. Not unlike the glow that comes when the dough does rise, or the liquid cream turns whipped, or when you reach the perfect temperature and golden brown on the second pancake poured from homemade batter.