gula ac acedia

Hands down, gluttony and sloth are my two favorite cardinal sins, the vices I most enjoy indulging. But it's come to my attention (thanks for the email, sloth) that perhaps I've been giving precedence to gula over acedia. Nonetheless, in f(l)avoring temptations like cheese platters and chili over lounging while watching "Dancing with the Stars," I'm still forced into a de facto sloth, unwilling, unaware. I write all this in reference to my recent blog laziness. Know that if it takes me a few days to update, it can probably be blamed on sticky fingers or kitchen fires, and not intentional avoidance.

I only share about these sins because in a way, there's not much else to share. And maybe that's problematic. Moving to a new place has a certain ebb and flow of energy. I've hit one of those plateaus where life is good but quotidien. That means, I know the neighborhood, I've learned the systems, and life normalizes. Now the goal is to shake that up. But in order to shake, one needs ingredients, and so here is a list of some of the (culinary) ingredients I've been throwing into life's martini (and yes, this will be a listing of food I'm eating!):

*Susanne and I continue to make weekly dates at the nameless bakery, where one can purchase the most marvelous chocolate-almond croissants I've ever had. I can usually only handle half of this before begging for a cafe au lait, made to stunning perfection with the milky froth swirled about the middle. Here if one asks for cream for their tea, as Susanne does, they froth the milk and bring it to our corner table in a little saucer. I stopped in on my own tonight after work for a blueberry danish. Three Arab women, including the owner, gossip between bites of chocolate mousse.

*Last Friday Stephanie, Nazhi, and I indulge overpriced chevre and brie in a Paris bistro environment at the Alexandre. It's the type of place where you have to ask for the bill, alert them to fill your water. They thrive on that Parisian evasion, these waiters, who dress better than the clientele.

*Last night I whipped up my first batch of chili for the season. Using that tried and true recipe of my mother's, I remember to allow a habanero pepper to simmer in the mix. If you think I've fallen prey to food pretensions, last night, in freezing half of the soup, I proved that I'm just like all those middle-aged divorcees out there!

Writing blogs like this makes me wonder whether it's better to pick up another vice, like lust or anger, in order to make these blogs a little more interesting. At the very least, with a few Hail Marys, I hope to find enough virtue to reconcile this blog sloth.

**photo props go to my good friend Zane who has a nice collection of Jordan Mid-munch Shots.