Grey and Yellow

"All good things must come to an end and August is no exception -

 They don't call it "Fall" for nothing."

-Gossip Girl, Season 2, Episode 2

What happened to Sunday Dinner? You ask with furrowed brow. Trust me, it didn't go anywhere, there were many dinners since my last post in August. I never meant to leave them undocumented for so long, and would have kept happily posting had summer not ended so suddenly. I was somehow convinced that summer never would end, as I fried fish for my mother's birthday dinner at the end of August.

One minute, I was excited to share a late summer fish fry and iceberg party salad with the world. The next minute, September knocked three times and showed summer the door. I morphed into my alter ego, the girl with no umbrella. 

Les Parapluies by Renoir

I saw this in painting in person, at the Hugh Lane Gallery in Dublin, Ireland. I was 19, wandering alone through the city's January grey. When I met with the girl in black I squinted long and hard into her eyes. I thought of her again recently as I trudged through the rainy streets of Seattle, feeling the damp chill set into my bones and my discontent of seasonal transition.

Here was the first evening I attempted to take food photos under indoor, evening kitchen light: 

It TASTED good, I promise! 

I don't think this photo is particularly inspiring. I don't think it would make you excited about roast lamb with vegetable curry. Clearly, my natural summer lighting is no more, forcing me to come up with new photographic coping strategies for a long winter ahead.  

Matters ARE starting to improve. Both my October mood and photo skills are gradually lightening; here is Take 2. 

This picture could make me respectably hungry for dinner - halibut with lemon and dill, and farro salad with butternut squash and kale. 

Last Saturday, I mustered up enough enthusiasm to go visit a one day "pop-up" event in Seattle - The Depressed Cake Shop.  This ingenious idea involves volunteer bakers who contribute all varieties of grey and melancholy themed baked goods for sale, to raise awareness of depression and benefit mental health organizations. Ironically, it was a beautiful October day, and there was no reason to be glum, but I was excited to see frowning cookies and brokenhearted cupcakes, as these advertisements show:

Sadly, upon my arrival, everything was completely sold out! I am sure that the lemon meringue tartlets must have been the first to go...

Photo courtesy of Depressedcakeshop.com

The doorman's shoes were the same color as a popular grey meringue tart with BRIGHT lemon yellow filling!

I found no depressed lemon meringue - but it's colors were everywhere. 

Grey and Yellow. My theme colors for October, easy enough to find in the lit up leaves of an entire tree against a darkened sky. I am still trudging around like the girl with no umbrella, looking for yellow accent flashes and settling into a new mood, new season. And once I've found my groove, I will be delighted to share the whole new season of dinners with you.