Bone marrow is associated in my mind with childhood and doing dishes.
Competition for leftovers among my five siblings was fierce, right down to the meat juices. Kitchen duty, however, meant that the roasting pan was all mine. When no one was looking. I sucked on bones and soaked up pan juices with bread.
I assumed that, as with many of my secret pleasures, it was an uncouth, maybe even disgusting, indulgence.
But wait! Boldly featured this winter on the decidedly high-class menu of Ariana Restaurant in Bend:
As good as I remember it. After a day of skiing, hot, rich, drippy marrow spread on toast was — heaven.
For me, anyway. My husband could barely watch me eat it. Marrow isn’t for everyone.
No matter. Everything we tried was delicious — salmon, chorizo shrimp with creamy polenta, salads.
Best of all? Dessert.
Out of this world.
Excellent service, a cool, old Craftsman-style house, full service bar.
Last summer, in her spare time from recording award-winning audiobooks, my buddy Heather Henderson gathered petals from her garden, layered them with sugar. As more roses bloomed, she added more layers. Gradually, gently, the petals released their liquid, creating this beautiful syrup, with a scent and flavor as delicious and delicate as the color.
For more entries in this week’s WordPress photo challenge, Now, click Now