First things first.  The new flour kicks a$$.  Imagine being forced to hand write with a chunky purple crayon on a sidewalk.  You know you can write well but everything looks like crap.  Then, finally, you are given a pencil…

Last night my wife and I left the United States and stepped onto Portuguese soil for a few hours.  Well, technically it wasn’t soil, it was the well-scrubbed decks of the N.R.P. Sagres, a training vessel of the Portuguese Navy. …

Well well.  Things are looking up.  My local flour supplier does carry organic bread flour after all.  They have the whole time!  Even when they told me they were no longer carrying organic flour!  Tee hee, I feel so silly…

I love laughing with my daughter.  This weekend we went to a Flag Day parade and got a prime spot right where the marching bands, convertibles with bejeweled princesses, clowns, men’s club members driving miniature cars at alarming speeds, and…

As Baby Harbat became Toddler Harbat, and now as she transitions to Little Girl Harbat, I understand how much our actions influence her upbringing.  She learns by absorption, observation, and imitation.  Because she sees us working in the kitchen so…

Every spring, farmers and gardeners around the world bear witness to the miracle of life.  Green shoots, nourished by Mother Earth, burst forth in an unbridled celebration of growth.  Golden sunlight bathes plants as they recreate a drama that has…

Toddler Harbat likes to do things the grown-up way.  When I brush my teeth, she brushes her teeth.  If I drink from the faucet, she climbs up on the stepstool and slurps up water.  Her toothbrush needs to sit in…

Oh man, you’d think in a region of three million people there would be someone willing to sell me a 50# bag of organic flour.  What about Whole Foods?  They sell organic breads.  Nope, they make their breads from par-baked…

It was a weekend to break things.  On Saturday I brushed up against our steel birdbath with the delicacy of a dragonfly wing fluttering against rose petal.  It tipped over, struck a rock, and split in two. I can’t say…

I’m still thinking about that picture I took of Toddler Harbat and her friend on the Cold Walk.  I like the color version, for the bright punches of fuschia and blue in a muted background, but I think it calls…