I do not know why I woke up this morning with a craving for soba noodle soup.
Perhaps it was the realization that I had two carrots chatting in the fridge, waiting to be heard. Poor guys, I had completely forgotten about them from 2 weeks ago. Perhaps it was the surprise delivery of Hon-dashi soup stock in the mail yesterday. Thank you Mom! Perhaps it was the whispered hint of, dare I say it, homesickness?
I don't think I'm homesick.
I'm just aware of the fact that this past week I unpacked the wool socks and pea coats, all the while knowing that my family and friends are still romping in the warm California sunshine. (A day later.) What am I saying?! Boston in the fall is beautiful! I can't stop looking at the leaves. Orange, gold, brick red, pink red, caramel.
Soba is the Japanese word for buckwheat noodles.
A Sunday tradition at my home.
Simple, delicious, and dripping with memories.
*Itadakimasu* Let's eat!