In the beginning there was dinner.

There was a time in my life when my circle of friends was disproportionately filled with epicureans. Well, really, one cannot have too many epicureans in one's life, just as one cannot have too much garlic in a dish. You're forgiven if you disagree with the latter; it's a sentiment held by this Italian girl once accused by a long-term houseguest of beginning every meal with olive oil and garlic (not entirely true!). Chez moi, the scent of sautéed garlic welcomes my guests before my open arms.

Regarding the epicureans, most have followed other paths and over the years I became inured to cooking without the camaraderie of food lovers. No more. The genesis of this blog lies in a meal created and shared with four serious gormand(e)s who, happily for me, are my neighbors. Gigi and Alan own a favorite local restaurant, Dakota Blue and Christine and Curt could own one, if they were so inclined.

After a meal featuring roasted veggies freshly gathered from the garden, Gigi presented a cutting board stacked with fragrant, sumer-ripe peaches and suggested we decide together what to do with them. Each of us took turns leaning into the peaches, inhaling deeply and releasing a sigh that the eat-to-live folks would find silly. After meticulous consideration of every possibility for those peaches, we came agreed upon a sublimely simple desert. What arrived at the table was a feast for the eyes as well as the palate: individual bowls filled with a mound of Greek yogurt (I'm sure this yogurt was on Zeus' table), topped with those mouth-watering peaches and toasted, nutmeg-laced, sugared pecans. A study in contrasts, perfected on the first try. Some might question how I could wax sentimental over something so simple, but hey - I'm just sayin'...