MUSCLE MEMORY

I was going through my hard drive and stopped at these photos, which I barely recognized as being something that I made for myself. I haven’t the faintest memory of preparing this meal — which I clearly ate alone — and it’s strange, because I tend to remember everything delicious that I eat in vivid, crystalline detail. Is it possible that just a few short weeks of the often lavish, cream-ridden, and elaborate meals I’ve started preparing — as a result of dining every evening with a confessed Richard Olney acolyte — have trumped my more modest menu ambitions from days of yore?

Still, nice to see these simple images of a quiet Portland dinner taken at the tail-end of summer: seared salmon, spicy black beans with zucchini, rice tossed with scallions, and halved cherry tomatoes and lime wedges. If my empty plate is to serve as a helpful reminder, I’ll never stop eating this way, too.

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