While perhaps not as tasty as those from Argentina, these pears came from Chile, finding their way to the African truck on 44th and into a pot with a half bottle of leftover wine, a bit of water, a scoop of sugar and a few cinnamon sticks.
Am honestly not sure how long these cooked, but I knew they were done when I started to smell the sugar ‘burning’. The idea is to cook these until the liquid turns to a light syrup and the fruit is cooked yet shapely. In my case, the syrup got a little thicker and sweeter than I typically prefer, but the texture and flavor are just right.
Got some good news this weekend: Becky’s visiting Philly in two weeks! Glad she’s got a friend’s wedding! My longtime college friend Jack sent a reminder email about his upcoming wedding reception at Carnegie Library (in early October). I’m very much looking forward to celebrating the occasion with his friends and family, and feel honored that our own friendship has stood the test of time.
I think this “new” strategy of mine to seek only romantic friendships is failing. It not only conflicts with connectedness (a signature strength), but has also caused unnecessary confusion to otherwise fascinating men. Do I really need to learn to live a new life with a new code of behavior, just to acculturate “back” towards the American norms I have rejected for the past 20 years? Oh dear. Simplicity becomes complicated….and I’m just starting life in my forties! I totally get why my peers are flocking to the yoga classes, the TM of our time.