some of what the earth says


Have you ever felt like rows of cut rainbow swiss chard and heads-down sunflowers, with skies of gray threatening an any-minute-down-pour? Yeah. That was me the moment October hit. I feel similarly now, and decided to carry William Stafford with me in hopes for a better mood. But, like my good friend Valerie says, “He’s so comforting and yet disturbs or awakens (awakens is a better word) at the same time.” Which is what I need.

The earth says where you live wear the kind
of color that your life is (gray shirt for me)
and by listening with the same bowed head that sings
draw all into one song, join
the sparrow on the lawn, and row that easy
way, the rage without met by the wings
within that guide you anywhere the wind blows.

Listening, I think that’s what the earth says.

The earth was saying a ton when October hit. It was saying it in rain and darkened clouds. In the passing of my favorite neighborhood flowers, the cosmos. In the threatening of all outdoor plans. The last of my tomatoes. I felt Earth’s words held deep in my bones, which hurt, mind you, especially when it rains. Let go, it says. Or this is all necessary, it saysOr don’t let ME get in your way.

I was to spend Saturday the 1st throwing a picnic with my loves at a winery in Long Island. And Sunday, I was to go apple picking. Neither of these things happened. Both sky and health kinda put a damper on plans, but I did my BEST not to let it ruin every single thing about that weekend. Earth, I was listening.

What I wanted to bring to the picnic I STILL had to make; a gallete of roasted beets and apple, feta, orange zest and herbs. I had already bought half the ingredients. It’s a recipe I toyed with in my mind that I really wanted to test out. I enjoy the cold salad version very much but wondered how everything would taste in the oven. I mentioned this to Tory and told her if there is a moment where it is not thunder-storming it’s butt off, I will hop on the F and R train to her home and we’ll bake up this idea I had. Plus, we were both incredibly sad about our winery plans falling through, so we clearly needed to hug it out.

And hug it out, we did.

I dropped off my FIRST homemade pie dough (GRATE FROZEN BUTTER INTO THE FLOUR Y’ALL), which I carried on the train like it was a newborn, and we then set out to the Brooklyn Grange to pick up her CSA. I asked her not to let me buy more than one thing and she said she’ll stop me at three. I love her. I purchased a container of spicy radish and arugula sprouts, solely because I wanted to sprinkle this on my gallete. I regret not buying the last of the tomatoes. I thought I saw sauce in my future but at least there was definitely sauce in Tory and Jon’s.


First thing I did when we returned was drop the beets in a pot of water. During this time, we drank pumpkin beer while Tory made us appetizers of cream cheese stuffed blossoms and fried baby green tomatoes. It made for a wonderful mouth experience.

When the beets were half-way done I took them out and sliced them. Same for the green apple which I peeled first. I tossed both in olive oil, salt and pepper, fresh thyme, roasted them for about 15 minutes. When done, I tossed ’em in a little freshly squeezed orange and a bit of it’s zest. More pepper. I rolled out the dough in STYLE. This thing is made of marble, errbody. And then to Tory’s surprise, I carefully arranged beet and apple at it’s center, instead of throwing it on top like she thought I would. The finishing touches are the spicy sprouts and feta. Tory rolled honey on the crust <3

While the galette was in the oven, Tory worked on her spicy carrots and garlicky yogurt, which were so delicious and beautiful to look at. Lots of mustard seeds in that pan. Lots of love for this girl, elegantly crushing her garlic.

The earth says always eat with love and laughter surrounding you. A rush of color reddens your cheeks and that’s the color to wear, always, like the stain of a beet. On this day, I ate with Tory and Jon and it was a beautiful, soul-satisfying meal. It always is when we come together. When, what we make comes together. I love how it always works out. I’m already brainstorming all sorts of galettes I could possibly make. It’s FUN, guys. And I would tweak this recipe a bit. Try a different cheese, a different herb, more honey and citrus and heat. But I have zero negative things to say about my first. It was beautiful.

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