Om-Elette

Through a happy accident where I thought our juicer was a food processor, I now have a huge tub of freshly cooked chickpeas, and a juicer with scraps of chickpeas in the blades. So, when making myself an omelette this morning, I decided, hey, I'll throw in some chickpeas. Turns out they happen to be the greatest omelette (now a "scramble") ingredient of all time--along with wild rocket, basil, rosemary, red bells, infant tomatoes, garlic, and a bit of sea salt.

But now I must digress for a moment. Looking at the word "omelette," I cannot help but see "om" and "elette." Does this imply that eggs softly cradling a seemingly infinite array of foods is in some way related to the natural vibration of the earth? Is the blanket of eggs a miniature representation of the ancient "om," bringing disparate elements into harmony through realization of their inherent interconnectedness? Are we the vegetables; is nature the eggy mess?

It was Virginia Woolf - To the Lighthouse.

I know, after I posted the last link from Alex Ross (classical critic, New Yorker) you probably all subscribed to the New Yorker, and read his blog every day over breakfast (like I'm doing). But on the off chance that you didn't, I have another New Yorker article on the effects of the internet on classical music. It is excellent. Also, check out Jeremy Denk's blog (linked in the article). I read it forever last night, and his post on Quartet For the End of Time is pretty incredible. Actually, the quartet itself (Oliver Messiaen) is incredible. He wrote it in a concentration camp when he found out that three of his fellow prisoners were a violinist, cellist, and clarinetist.

The Well-Tempered Web