My pot of corned beef and cabbage is well into its third hour of cooking; I'm eager for dinner tonight. This recipe, by Suzanne Goin, is superb though this year I used only three cloves instead of four. I think that will make things even better as the perfumed fragrance of clovey broth won't lead, but will instead buttress, every bite. The sun is out, the boys are at school, my parents are snoozing, and I feel a teensy bit better; callers no longer think I'm Tom. It's the little things!
Aren't cabbages humbly beautiful? I'm newly amazed each time I slice into one, severing the tight, heavy orb of fiercely packed, concentric leaves that grew from one petite seed.