The Finer Things

It's painfully clear that we are smack in the middle of economic melt down. No sugar coating this situation any longer. In fact, I'm a bit tired of the mire we seem to be in. War, recession, 8 year old boys on trial for murder and that's the only thing on the TV and radio, oh and those slim fit jeans need to be in there too. So I think I need a moment for the finer things in life.



Now, you've seen my hoopty truck so by "finer" things I'm not really talking money. I'm referring to those things that make life sweet. Those moments, the ones that are brief but real and satisfying. A tiny baby giving you that first gummy smile, your kid in a play, or perhaps dancing by herself. Or the perfect mingling of tastes - yogurt and honey, a pancake right of the griddle. These are the things that you hold on to, that make life intimate and different. Those and panettone for breakfast on your great grandmas china.



Let's start with panettone, shall we? I adore this heaven sent bread. I almost cried when I saw the first display of the season go up. Now I know I've been so good and have made many gluten free items for the family. I know I told my husband that I wouldn't buy bread, but seriously, it's panettone. I have no gluten woes, I can digest, and did I say it's panettone. Look at it - look!



A beautiful soft buttery bread studded with gently liquor soaked fruit. Well it's not cheap, so I bought myself the wee tiny loaf and figured that wouldn't last long to tempt the others. I was right, it didn't last past noon. My mom gave me my grandmothers china the day before, so I figured I needed to make an event of my first panettone of the season. It was such a delightful breakfast.



How dainty and wonderful is this tea cup? Now, these aren't exactly what I would pick out. I'm not exactly the dainty pink rose type of gal. I'm more of a Fiesta Ware, or something funky gal, but these were my meemom's. The tiny little lady that I must stretch to remember. She picked these out once a long time ago, maybe just for those tiny pink roses.



And as I sip more and more of my tea that little rose inside peeks out and I ponder what meemom lived through - wars, recessions, deaths, births, sickness, and loves. What did it mean to her to have food to enjoy, babies to hold and cups to drink from? Did she eat beautiful breads and think that yes indeed life is still sweet?