It's not hyperbole to say that my world has been shaken in every possible way since I last properly blogged nearly a month ago.  Yes, there has been an earthquake with the epicenter located, I'm reliably told, next to my friend Kevin's tomato plant in his garden in Mineral.  Yes there has been a hurricane whose epicenter, I'm convinced, was right here on my block where we lost something like ten aged oaks which squashed  seven cars to pancake proportions.  No, the earth-shaking thing that happened here was the unexpected death of my beloved Father, Tom Osdene--in so many ways, the inspiration for almost everything I've ever done or accomplished in my life, and most assuredly the catalyst for and soul of my kitchen.

Goody, a reader request andan excuse to use my favorite kitchen tool--my mandoline--all in one go.  In today's "Clare's Kitchen"column in the Times-Dispatch, a reader noticed my reference to cucumber salad and wondered how I make it.  This involved a phone call to my father to verify my technique since he's the cucumber salad czar.  He reassured me that my instincts were correct.  (I think I make this phone call to him annually to verify, by the way.  He must think I'm kooky.)  Anyway, I think it must be Austrian or Czech or something, but no matter whence it comes, it's refreshing, crunchy, spicy and possibly the perfect thing to make for July 4th.

Last night while I was trolling the refrigerator for dinner ingredients, I admit to laughing out loud when it came to me.  The perfect thing would surely be a black and blue salad.

It's been a wild few days, chock-a-block with activity and emotion surrounding Felix's stellar high school graduation on Friday.  We've been surrounded by family and friends and lots of fun which by last night left a fridge full of inspirational ingredients and a tired Jeff and Clare, home alone and looking for something quick and delicious for dinner.  Black and blue salad was the perfect thing, and the name was just a little humourous jab administered by the universe.