December

Sissy and I sit together by lamplight in the wee hours and I sift through my address book. Is this the good address? What are the new children's names? Little paper packets of holiday cheer will be sent around the world to loved ones. With a steaming cup of coffee, sitting in my nightgown, I write out details one by one. The envelopes are covered with stamps in small denominations that I have finally gathered from various drawers in the secretary. I choose and turn the cards over in my hand, think about the people I love. We are preparing for new beginnings, a new year. Thinking of everyone like this bolsters the spirits.

While our window of sunlight is getting smaller and smaller, the city of Lyon has begun to ramp up the glow at night. Preparations for the light festival this weekend are all in full swing. Crews of light specialists and designers are busy on every square, preparing for the show that will light up the whole city with a series of over 90 installations starting this coming weekend. The whole centre-ville will be converted into a pedestrian park within which we will wander in and out of the light exhibits for the weekend. Friends who also live on the presqu'ile will open their homes and we'll enjoy mulled wine and snacks along the way.

It is time to break out the heavy cook pots and begin to look with new interest at roots. They have come to compliment the mix of early winter greens that will carry us through. In the kitchen, I'm working on the perfect quenelle recipe, and unravelling their stories.

Getting closer.

At the market, we can choose between cultivated pale endives or their colorful and fast growing wild chickory cousins. Spinach and lamb's lettuce peek though their windows of opportunity. Scallops and oysters brought in from the coast provide fresh and a vibrant additional flavor to the table. A predominant color now at the market is orange, with big thick wedges of local pumpkin and courge sold by the slice. Thin mild leeks are now sold in small bunches for soups and savory tartes. Herbs like basil and sage are scarce, while suddenly I'm taking a whole new interest in rosemary.

While we get farm raised poultry like duck and rabbit all year, right now is the moment for wild game. My big find in England last month was a colorful game cookbook, brimming with history and lore. I have been taking in recipes and methods, both English and French. Vendors selling wild game enjoy a brisk business, and I happily buy my share. The hunted wild game birds aren't as pretty as their smooth skinned farm fattened counterparts, but they have certainly lived more fully. They deserve special treatment. You can feel the vigor as you work with them, and taste their zest for life when they are served at the table. I give them a place of honor in terrines and stews, and plump out my kitchen notebook with other ways to prepare them. This is eating from the land. This is as close to the real thing as it gets.

The best of last Summer's bounty is now coming out in the cheeses. Wheels of summer mountain cheeses like Beaufort, Abondance, and Comte are just now rolling down from the Alps. A wedge is drenched with the sunshine we're missing now. Perfectly ripened summer Époisses from Burgundy is at its peak. The best of the harvest macerated local cheeses from the Mâcon like the Arome de Lyon, are just now coming plump from their barrels. The cheese plate glows with flavorful perfection at this time of year.

While we prepare for the winter holidays, making gift syrups and cookies for our French friends and family, planning for Lyon's ever spectacular Fete des Lumieres, and bringing out the decorations, December's light is a flame of promise for upcoming gatherings, fanned with Autumn's last golden glow.