In the Kitchen Again, Lyon

The first thing to do is to clear off the old bits of cheese from the cheese plate. When you're off to catch a plane, the last thing on your mind is how the chunk of Bleu d'Auvergne is going to fare.

Next, chuck whatever looks iffy, and start again. It's suprising to note the number of things that a person must build up to have a good working kitchen to start with. A fresh batch of stock, new tubs of fat, errands to run, filling in the blanks. Eggs, mushrooms and fresh herbs will do for a beginning. Flip back through the season's notes for inspiration. I have a new cookbook, and it certainly has me salivating too. In a couple of weeks I will be in full swing!

Pierce an onion. Bundle a bouquet. Put on a p'tit salé, a chunk of bacon, bay and puy lentils to get the ball rolling. Sweater weather is back. Even though I plan to work off the comfort food I enjoyed back home, I am still watching the leaves of the trees on the square sway in the autumn breeze, feeling very free, and thinking of savory pastry. I guess that means getting up early to walk is in order.

Simple necessary steps to prepare the kitchen for the region's harvest season are taken one by one, and I am sharpening my pencils and taking out my pens. My second kitchen notebook is almost full. How will I decorate the third? This is the most fruitful time of year for cooking, wouldn't you agree? I am finishing a culinary project under deadline this week. Now is the perfect time to take care of some basic tasks like stock and demiglace making that will require me to hover, while I spend the necessary hours completing this quiet work.

I am thankful that the machine is in motion for real culinary exploration through the winter season this year. It is almost as if fate has told me to pick up the relay right here. This is where I belong, everything tells me so.