In nets of golden wyres

As I worked on the doll hair yesterday I got an earworm phrase. This is often how art titles come, and whole art concepts with them.

The phrase was "in nets of golden wyres", a canzonet duet by Elizabethan composer, musician, Thomas Morley, a great favorite when I played recorder. There's a series of these canzonets, which just means little songs. Likewise Michael East trios, another favorite song series to play..

As you notice, I haven't named the dolls as if they were people. That's because I mean them as art statements, in a series. But I was still waiting for them to tell me their statements, and to get the idea of the series.

And here they are, after I rummaged through my sheet music

You see the idea of the current doll there, the golden wires meaning her curly hair, which the narrator fell for, it's a love song.

And White as Lillies is the East phrase for the first doll. This doesn't mean I'll search for titles then make a doll that fits, but rather I'll make the doll then the phrase will come. Leap and the net will appear. My lifelong approach, hasn't failed me yet. 

If this thinking is all Greek to you, don't worry, just let it flow over you! I wonder what a Greek would say? If this is all English to you etc?

Meanwhile, back in the workshop, here's the narrative

Cotton roving, which I hope to learn to spin with my supported spindle, now waiting in the wings. It's soft as swansdown, lovely to handle, and I have plenty, so I can use it here to stuff Wyres.

Meanwhile, she has a body, downtime before I make limbs for her, and food is happening. 

Misfits box arrives later today, and I'm using the last of the sweet potatoes. 

Note the recycled bag marked stock. And the little heap of trimmings. I'm going to make vegetable stock from the trimmings from now on for a while. 

The trimmings I've been chucking out back have turned into fertile soil already, hence the sudden appearance of the squash plant, or melon, whichever, and the enormous growth of what was a tiny blackberry plant from out front.

So I will also do this:

Save up trimmings in the freezer, create stock eventually, toss the strained residue out back. Thank you, Leigh, blogger of 5 Acres & a Dream, for reminding me of this possibility.  Still nothing wasted. 

Go read her blog, it's lovely. You don't have to be a smallholder with crops and animals, living self sufficiently, eating what you grow, to enjoy her narrating the life of a couple who do all that.

And today's lunch is roasted sweet potatoes, in olive oil, Old Bay, currently my go-to, seasalt, and a chicken thigh, buttered and rolled in panko. 

I didn't pound this one thin, just left it rolled.

Next,  to empty the sink ready to wash fruit and veggies when the box arrives, and sort out strainers and colanders and cloths for inevitable water splashes.

It's all go!

Just realized..

 Just realized that my cooking is getting more and more like my approach to art. I've always looked for teaching, or mentors, to learn techniques and materials. Never had much interest in what else my teachers had to say about art never wanted recipes on design beyond the basics of color theory and division of space and depth.

They were hugely helpful once they saw what I was doing, steered me to good venues, opportunities, all that. You can learn methods from other people, but your only real art teacher is yourself.

But it wasn't about learning art from them. I used to find out the whole semester's requirements, get them polished off in the first couple of weeks, then spend the rest of the time exploring what I needed to learn.

Translate this into cookbooks and recipes, same thing. What's the gist? Materials? Thank you thank you, now I'm on my own.

I really love this way of living. So many adventures if you stop obeying the rules now and then. And maybe make up new ones! And you get to eat your work! And it's hard to stop!

So here's today in the food studio (!). 

Idea: umami, the other flavor. Depth of taste, as in anchovies, strong cheeses, roast vegetables, sun dried concentrated tomato, all that..

Contrasts, too, the light and shadow in the taste painting.  So you need some bland stuff in there so it's not like a brass band on a plate.

I made anchovy butter, just worked anchovy paste into Kerrygold butter, because it works right out of the fridge. 

That went onto the hot split pea bread right before serving. Butter goes great for texture, the anchovies wonderful with it against the bland bread, except this time I baked it crisp. Better than pancake texture to me. And since fat conveys flavor, the anchovy paste is much more powerful but not harsh, yum.

Then potatoes and fresh tomatoes, big pinch of berbere, very hot and lovely Ethiopian spice mix, kosher salt, olive oil, all roasted in a hot oven. Split pea bread started on the stove in cast iron, finished in the hot oven. Freeform shape but it tasted okay.

You can see why I had a plain salad of torn up romaine with it. No need to dress it, enough going on already. Also I needed to cool 'y 'outh..

This was an interesting path. Not for everyone, but for this diner, fine. And there's enough to do it again tomorrow.

I find I'm doing food in series, the way I did art, always a progression. I wonder if it's my inner bookkeeper at work.

In food I ground up a whole series of grains and nuts to make different flours.

I made a series of spice mixes, curry mixes, berbere, baharat.

Then different soft cheeses, labneh, cream cheese (paneer), nut cheese.

Different breads, yeast risen, yogurt risen, fermented, all sorts of stuff 

I hadn't thought about any of this till today. 

Currently umami is my focus. For now! Sounds so posh, but it's just strong flavors.

I have various ideas about flavoring butter, now that I've got a butter you can work into. There'll be thyme, lemon, spearmint, sage, we'll see where it goes. I'm a helpless prawn of fate at the mercy of this tsunami of ideas.

I also hope it's fun to read about.