Space Crone and Her Spring Cauldron

With the sky wild and brooding and a chill back in the air, it’s a perfect evening for an Italianate lentil soup: sauteed mushrooms; chicken stock; chopped carrots, fennel bulb, leek, and lacinato; parmesian rind; a hint of tomato paste. With it we’re having a heel of crusty semolina and a wild and brooding red wine that smells of caramel and ash and orange. Perfect, too. Give me a shapeless dark dress and a giant cross bobbing in my cleavage, and I’ll be time-traveling right out of this century tonight.

"All, everything I understand, I understand only because I love."
― Leo Tolstoy