And carrots.
And as I sat here writing about how we picked up our first CSA box this afternoon (having been away for the first few – they really weren’t this late to start) and how ecstatic the boys were over the bunches of carrots they got to choose (they begged to be allowed to eat their entire bunches for dinner – well hmm, OK) the doorbell rang and Mike came upstairs with a warm slice of thin-crust pizza spread with ricotta, topped with peaches and drizzled with honey. Does one’s property value increase when said property is right next door to that of a chef?
This afternoon it poured rain, but I had promised the boys we’d go to the wading pool. We went anyway, and had the entire place to ourselves. The boys could not believe there was not one other person in the pool – after all, they reasoned, you’re going to be wet anyway – who cares if you’re in the shower and bath at the same time?
Then we dried off (somewhat), grabbed our CSA boxes – just-picked lettuce, chard, carrots, cucumbers, garlic scapes, radishes, peas, pattypan squash and yellow zucchini, broccoli, thin-skinned white and purple potatoes, sweet and green onions (who says nothing grows in Alberta?) and when I got home and fired up a cast iron skillet with oil and garlic and a drained can of chickpeas to sizzle up with the chard, my mom brought home a couple of Croque Monsieurs from L’Epicerie – you can take them home in little paper bags unbaked, then slide them into the oven for 15 minutes yourself while tossing a salad or wilting chard into your chickpeas. It has all the warm and gooey cheesy appeal of a pizza, with far more class. Not that I’ve ever been much concerned about that, but you never know, it could be a selling point.
August 12 2010 | leftovers | 14 Comments »
I’m home, guys. In my own bed and kitchen. I have lots to tell, but I’ve taken to working on other stories in bed, and so wind up feeling like I’ve written a post here when I’ve actually been completely slacking in that regard. From now on I’ll relegate work to my desk (or couch/front step/coffee shop) and be more selective about who I bring to bed.
In my three-day absence I learned of some fast food trips (those five year olds are talkers) and that W’s new favourite dinner is something called egg hot dog, in which two poached eggs are served up drippily on a leftover hot dog bun from the Big Birthday Party, presumably because there’s no other bread in the house. (There was, however, plenty of fresh spinach, kale and chard that remained untouched. And wait till you see the garden.) I think I should instigate Mike Mondays, and make him cook. What do you think?
Some rummaging around this morning produced a couple scones from the freezer and upon doing inventory of the fridge (I’ve only been home about a day and a half since we cleaned out the fridge and left for Tofino) I came upon a jar of this rhubarb-ginger jam I made when it did not seem possible that the counterload of rhubarb would in any way squeeze into the freezer. And I’m pretty good at Tetris.
I won’t even pretend to write out an elaborate recipe for this – all I did was chop and cook it down, with a thumb-sized piece of ginger lazily sliced in and then plucked out afterward – you could grate it instead, and cook it down with the rhubarb.
Rhubarb-Ginger Jam
5 cups chopped rhubarb
2 cups sugar
a few slices of fresh ginger, or a few chunks of chopped candied ginger, or a drizzle of ginger syrup
Put everything in a pot, and add a splash of water only if you feel you need the help to get things going. Bring to a simmer and cook, stirring occasionally, until the mixture is soft, thick, and jam-like. Cool, pluck out any large chunks of ginger (if you want to) and store in the fridge. Makes a few cups.
August 12 2010 | preserves | 9 Comments »
