Author Archives: Kate Christensen

About Kate Christensen

eater, citizen, enthusiast, curmudgeon

Hey, sweet baby, don’t you think maybe we could find us a brand new recipe?

The other day in Whole Foods, as we were shopping for groceries to bring to the farmhouse for five nights, I said jokingly, self-mockingly, to the cashier who was ringing up our groceries, “Did you notice how healthy our food … Continue reading

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I feel the earth move under my feet, I feel the sky tumbling down

I’m sitting at my desk in my study with a cup of coffee, catching my breath for a moment while Dingo has his morning nap on his bed at my feet. My new book, “Blue Plate Special,” an autobiographical account … Continue reading

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Golden slumbers fill your eyes

This time of year, I can’t stop sleeping. I seem to have been infected by a seasonal parasite, a sleep tapeworm or zombie virus that awakens at dark and renders me unconscious so it can wreak its insidious takeover of … Continue reading

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Out on the wiley, windy moors…

Two days ago, we arrived here at the farmhouse from town. The wind blew around the house all evening and night in moans and ghostly howls. Dingo kept barking at it, and in the course of a night in front … Continue reading

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You’re gonna make me lonesome when you go

I’m the only one up; it’s frosty and sunny outside. Not one wild creature is visible – just dead grass, tangles of bare crabapple branches, and the naked birch trees starkly white down the meadow. For breakfast this morning, I’m … Continue reading

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Whether times are good or bad, happy or sad

A while ago, I woke up, bleary-eyed and generally unrested because my sleep patterns are irregular at best, to a golden fall morning, crisp and sweet as an apple. Dingo was, as usual, instantly wide-awake and raring to go out. … Continue reading

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And the one-eyed undertaker, he blows a futile horn

It feels weird to have my innermost dread feel so manifest on Halloween, a day we usually enact symbolically and ritualistically from the safety of so-called normal life by wearing costumes to work or school or the grocery store, dressing … Continue reading

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Well I love potato pie and I love potato puddin’

I walked into the soup kitchen last week to find that I was the only volunteer that day for lunch, and Monica was on vacation. Her substitute, Jordan, runs the teen center. He had two chowders heating in the oven … Continue reading

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Just my imagination once again runnin’ away with me

This morning, just as I was waking up, I dreamed I was cooking a dish that was meant to be a compendium of intense flavors: extremely sour and salty dried Chinese plums, Coca-Cola syrup concentrate from a little keg I … Continue reading

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But there’s booze in the blender and soon it will render that frozen concoction that helps me hang on

When one candidate seems not to want the Presidency and to be unwilling to pretend that he does, and the other wants it so badly, he’ll say anything to get it, it makes for a lopsided, terrible, weird debate. There … Continue reading

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