Hello,
This morning, for the first time in ages, I woke up, put on my swimsuit, and made breakfast. It’s an old habit I forget about from time to time, in the haze of middling—if that’s what we’re calling it now—but it’s a habit that serves my spirit in spades.
It felt like the perfect time to share this essay, which first appeared in my book Everyday Is Saturday*. If you’ve been a friend/fan/follower for many years, you know the premise of the book was bringing life and fun back into my kitchen—and yours—after years of working/care-taking/adulting can cause the fire to drain out of it at home.
This story exemplifies how often one simple shift can do the trick.
xx
Sarah
HOW TO COOK LIKE YOU LIVE IN ST. TROPEZ
One summer, in my early twenties, I had job as a private chef in a villa in St.Tropez—a total pinch-me situation. I spent long sunny days in an open kitchen steps from the Mediterranean, with towering fig trees, and rows of lavender and bay bushes just outside the doors.
On staff were a housekeeper, a gardener and me—a lucky strike earned in a two-part audition with the family in their winter home in New Jersey, earlier that year. Le Monsieur et Madame who owned the house, both scientiests and entrepreneurs were serious their work and spent of lot of our time in France going after it, but they had their soft spots: they loved wine and their grandchildren and good pastries, and like most St. Tropeziennes—the nude beach.