Time has been a scare commodity these days, as has been quiet and sanity. Today with hammers continuing to rock the house and saws squealing through metal, I decided to take a definite moment for myself. I floated through the farmers market on a flavorful cloud of the buche goat cheese from Pug’s Leap Farm and fresh berries. I splurged on some whiskey maple sage sausage and green garlic. Once home, I cooked a brunch for me and only me. My “housemates” have different dietary preferences than myself. I like to recognize what I am eating and find pleasure in the beauty and simplicity of my food. My housemates like food that is mushed and fried into a spicy rich saag. Granted one of my housemates is 90, which likey plays into the preference for mushy…but still. They also only eat meat when it is hidden in food and they claim not to know its there.

So I made a crispy breakfast pizza for myself. I loved the pizza before it went in the oven for its cool ingredients: Viking Purple Potatoes sliced and baked with olive oil, fresh herbs, and green garlic, more green garlic, rosemary, fresh mozzarella, the lovely Prather Ranch sausage and No Name’s egg on top (I stopped naming my birds for obvious reasons), some salt and pepper.

Absorbed in my world of simple beauty, flavors, and creativity, the sound of five men a few feet beneath me yelling to each other over their own noise faded. Now, fortified with my pot of tea, plate of pizza and the latest edition of Edible East Bay, I am ready to go locate a pellet gun to deal with the rat problem that has manifested this last year.

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