I meant to write a post today about music—the chills and thrills it always gives me.
But there is something in this blindingly bright Easter morning sky, the tendrils finally pushing up from my pots, Billy Eckstine’s bass-baritone velvet filling my sunshine space, a steaming cup of just-right coffee, that is making me restless in the most wonderful of ways.
In these moments I can almost feel the imperceptible heightening of my senses, as if the nerve endings under my skin have been activated. And the best-laid plans—my tidy little list—seem to blur in the sunlight, replaced by this hum of aliveness I don’t want to interrupt.
Checks and balances
I love making lists. There’s something deeply satisfying about the structure of the bullet points, the promise that everything will be done in due course, and on time. A list is both order and possibility. It’s my way of trying to put a frame around the day with a little intention, a little control. Checks and balances, each crossed-out line a victory of completion.
But of course, the day often has other plans for me. And none of them are on the list.
Creativity, connection, even just being don’t often thrive under tight schedules, expectations, or make it on a to-do list. Sometimes the richest thing you can do is allow the moment to guide you, unedited.
The world is full of magic things, patiently waiting for our senses to grow sharper.
—W.B. Yeats
I picked up a new pair of glasses yesterday, progressive lenses that are playing havoc with my sense of perception and balance. But, slowly, as my eyes adjust to the split frame construct of seeing two ways at once, things are coming into focus, the details more sharp, colours more vibrant.
When the crispness of edges or shadows fall more decisively, something quieter comes into view, too. Gentle recognitions, small threads I hadn’t woven into understanding. The clutter on the counter feels less like mess and more like evidence of life lived, not the one planned on paper. There’s a quiet certainty in seeing clearly—not just the lines and shapes of the world, but the contours of myself within it.
Sometimes presence looks like stillness. Sometimes it looks like changing the sheets, or feeding the sourdough starter, or sitting in silence long enough to hear the distant liquid call of a cardinal.
Sometimes “what we meant to do” is rooted in pressure, to be productive, to be useful, to stick to the plan. But real presence asks something different: to show up as we are, not as we are meant to be. The edge between comfort and expansion asks us to notice, feel, respond. Not with a to-do list, but with presence.
Easter morning light, velvet voices, sprouting green, hot coffee. Sometimes the richness of these small and precious gifts is enough.
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Crostini Toscani
serves 6
More commonly known in Italian by its traditional name, crostini con fegatini di pollo, this classic Tuscan appetizer showcases the region's love for bold, rustic flavours. Grilled or toasted baguette slices are topped with a rich and hearty spread made from chicken livers, capers, anchovies, and a touch of wine, all blended into a smooth, deeply delicious pâté.
When I brought this chicken liver pâté to an Easter feast this weekend, I used a fresh lens to rethink the presentation. Instead of serving the rich spread on the usual toasted bread, I paired it with all manner of bright, green things—crisp apple slices, tender endive leaves, cool cucumber rounds. The result was a vibrant, modern twist on a classic that felt just right for spring.
Note: Feel free to serve the pâté with whatever accompaniments you like. It’s quite rich so light feels right, but the more traditional grilled bread is equally delicious. It’s traditionally served warm over the bread, but I like to bring the pâté to room temperature if I am using fresh things to serve alongside.
Ingredients
1 lb (450 gr) chicken livers
4 anchovy fillets
2 tablespoons capers
3 tablespoons (45 g) butter
1 small onion, finely chopped
salt to taste
freshly ground black pepper
½ cup dry white wine
½ cup beef stock, optional
4 tablespoons extra-virgin olive oil
2 tablepoons dry Marsala
1 teaspoon chopped thyme leaves
Accompaniments of your choice, such as endive leaves, Granny Smith apple slices, cucumbers, as well as light crackers, cornichons and olives to finish off the spread
Trim any connective tissue and discolored parts from the chicken livers and chop into small pieces. Finely chop the anchovy fillets and capers together.
Melt 2 tablespoons of the butter in a medium saucepan over moderate heat. Add the onion and sauté until tender, stirring frequently. Add the chicken livers and cook for 5 minutes, stirring frequently. Season with salt and pepper.
Add the white wine, and cook for 15 minutes, stirring frequently. If the mixture dries out, moisten with a little stock. Remove the pan from the heat and set aside to cool a little. Use an immersion blender to finely chop the liver, or place the liver mixture on a chopping board and chop finely. Either way, remove the liver mixture from the pan.
In the same pan, heat the olive oil over moderate heat. Add the liver mixture, anchovies, and capers. Stir well, add the remaining butter, the Marsala and the thyme leaves and cook for 3–4 more minutes.
Serve the pâté alongside accompaniments of your choice.
Your words feel like the glimpses of a dream. Lovely, Elizabeth!
Thank you for this. It will set my day off on a great trajectory.