our table is a luggage trunk,
pulled with care from my childhood garage
where it held our most beloved movies on VHS cassette.
i’ve since replaced fievel goes west with off-season linens,
and atop this treasure we eat.
to gather there most mornings is to sit cross-legged on the rug,
a posture of peace,
pomp-free fine dining . . .
today i’m sharing my table – and the recipe on it – over at kamille’s lovely place.
pull up a chair and join us, won’t you?