So, I’m making a super slow cook roast in grenache wine with leeks. Because it takes about 6 hours to cook, I started it earlier today after I finished making some jojoba parfaits for a client. The day here is bright and brisk, but warm enough to open the windows to clear out the stuffy house. Periodically, the wind chimes will play softly, a whisper of wind whirls through the south windows and wafts the aroma of pot roast through the rest of the house.
It is as though Mother Nature were conducting her own Pavlovian tests. (When you hear wind chimes, you will salivate.) I need to make a big ol’ order of aromatherapy oils, but I think I might have to wait until tomorrow, because all I can smell is dinner in the future tense.