Tag Archives: tomatoes

September warmed and sweetened.

food and cooking, my garden, summer, wildflowers, , , , , ,

My worries about September being too cool did not come to pass. We even had a sort of heat wave for two days, and one night when the temperature did not drop below the mid-60’s. As soon as the sun set that evening, we opened the windows and started running the fans. It was cooler the next night, back to our usual marine air, and being able to leave the windows open night and day, and even to let the sun shine in.

It’s warm enough to ripen figs, and we have eaten a few, but something is not right with my tree. Most of the figs turn purple before they get any size, and fall off when they are still small and hard. The ground is littered with them. I have spent a lot of time trying to figure out what the problem is, but I still don’t know.

At least, this year I’m happy about the tomatoes. It’s not often anymore that I have home-grown, vine-ripened “love apples” here, other than cherry tomatoes. I suppose one could make a BLT with those, but it never occurred to me. This summer I have Early Girls, and I wanted to make at least one sandwich using slices of them, lettuce and bacon. I accomplished that goal, and it was well worth the trouble.

And I used a few stems of the abundant tarragon to make the wonderful Tarragon Salsa Verde:

  • leaves from 1 small bunch fresh parsley (approx. 20g / 1 cup)
  • leaves from fresh tarragon (approx. 5g / 1/4 cup)
  • 1 spring onion including green part (roughly chopped)
  • zest of 1 lemon and juice of 1/2 lemon
  • 1 teaspoon sea salt flakes or 1/2 teaspoon pouring salt
  • 6 tablespoons olive oil

Mix all in a food processor and use as a dip, a spread for bread or on baked chicken, or eggs. It’s just wonderful. I even froze a little batch one time and used it later.

It comes to mind just now, that this salsa would probably make a nice addition to a BLT… I might try that before the tomatoes and tarragon have become a memory.

It wasn’t until last week that I got around to bringing flowers into the house, a bouquet of zinnias, with sweet peas and basil. This year I seem to be content to just stare out at the garden, or wander the paths doing little things, and procrastinating on this year’s Fall Reorganizing. Living where the winters are mild makes it possible — and often beneficial — to put off planting or transplanting until October. But extending the season has its down side; I hope next year I won’t have to do any of this moving-plants-around kind of work — but that’s what I’ve said for three years now.

I opened up one dried flower of the Queen Anne’s Lace that had self-sowed next to my driveway, and sprinkled the seeds among the Mexican Evening Primrose that grow in that arid corner. The latter needs a least a little water in the summer, and is always overrun by weeds. The Queen Anne’s Lace grows vigorously all over the place without any summer water. Maybe it will thrive, and crowd out a few of the less beautiful weeds.

On one of those hot days I did loads of laundry, and used the clothesline. The overflowing basket of items that needed special treatment in the sink is now empty! These two pillowcases that are a hundred years old are fresh and clean. I inherited them from my husband’s aunts or grandmother, and they were a little yellow in places. Now I will start using them. I’m not certain about the monogram… I think it might be FLK? If it is, I don’t know which relative that could be.

Now that Bea is living here, my kitchen is getting more use; it’s really fun to have a girl around who likes cooking and produces things for me to taste. Recently she made meringues from aquafaba! I knew that liquid from canned garbanzo beans was a versatile ingredient, but I had no idea it could substitute for egg whites in this way. She used aquafaba, sugar, and vanilla. When I was first eating the cookie, I didn’t realize it wasn’t a regular meringue, because she had made them after I went to bed. They were very nice.

Flowers, cookies, tomatoes and figs — September so far is warm and sweet.

 

Surprised by an eggplant.

my garden, summer, , ,

After a week or so of forgetting that I even had one precious eggplant plant growing in the boxes, this beautiful long fruit caught my eye yesterday, trying to hide behind a zucchini leaf. I planted a six pack of seeds for it and only one came up — now I can’t find the seed packet to tell you what variety it is, but I like it best of the three kinds I’ve tried in the last few years. Maybe next year I will try again.

The tomatoes: Brad’s Atomic Grape, my current favorite, since I don’t have any Sungolds to take the Sweetness Prize this year. And a little plum from my tree. Most of the plums I don’t get until they fall off, and as of this last week of August there are still unripe fruits on the trees! I’m trying to check for ripe ones every day. Yesterday I did enjoy a sweet and juicy one, and it was that stand-over-the-sink dripping kind of event that feels like summer.

Extending a welcome to ourselves.

bread, home, homemaking, quotes, , , , , , , ,

“We are needy creatures, and our greatest need is for home—the place where we are, where we find protection and love. We achieve this home through representations of our own belonging, not alone but in conjunction with others. All our attempts to make our surroundings look right—through decorating, arranging, creating—are attempts to extend a welcome to ourselves and to those whom we love.”

― Roger Scruton

By Carl Larsson

In the last couple of weeks I’ve felt a certain comfort and rest deep in my bones. Maybe it has something to do with having made time for my Hospitality Work. I forced myself to stay home from a couple of events just to recover my peace, which had been disturbed by events hard to explain. Once I was able to focus on my home-work, I also could do it in an honorable way, that is, without hurrying. Instead of “The hurrier I go, the behinder I get,” it’s “Take more time, you’ll get there faster.”

I love to do the dishes calmly, but even when I do, I tend to leave the task before I’m completely done, because I get distracted by a thought, some idea that makes me drop my dishtowel on the counter as I head to the bookcase or the garden and don’t remember to come back until it’s bedtime, and a little late for dishes. Lately, when that happens, I’ve finished up, calmly, self-hospitably, in the morning. So all is good.

One Moonglow tomato so far.

I’ve been cooking zucchini (from my three plants) for myself, and serving myself the first Green Doctors cherry tomatoes right off the vine. In this season when I don’t have anyone upstairs to see my bedroom, I make my bed for my own pleasure and so that the rumpled blankets don’t spread their mood to my easily agitated mind.

If I slow down enough, I can look ahead and plan for full days at home, and occasionally plan the night before to make bread the next day. I have done that three times now, with increasing success. It’s not realistic to think that I will make bread more than once every week or two, and my goals must be adjusted from four years ago when I’d first resumed bread baking again, because as with so many things in life, I realize that I can’t have everything I want, even when I am myself the only (human) guest in my home.

This is the last loaf I made, and I’m pretty pleased with it. If I had started the dough the night before it would have been a little more sour; I’m still experimenting. It has what I would consider a good “regular bread” crumb, not custardy, but not doughy or dry, either. I like artisan breads with that custardy and open crumb, but I also don’t like the holes very big, because whatever I put on my slice of toast will melt through them all over my hand and shirt.

The sides did not crack on this one — I recently remembered that 40 years ago when I’d make four or five sourdough loaves at a time, I had to slash them with a straight gash down the middle, not diagonal cuts as I think looks nicer. Otherwise pieces of the top would break off. Maybe that helped take the strain off the sides as well, to keep them from cracking. This loaf has a little whole spelt flour in it, plus sesame, poppy, caraway and fennel seeds.

I got lots of new plants in the ground this month, the latest being portulaca, which I love, but haven’t always had good luck with. Maybe August is the best month to put that in, when the sun is burning down the way those flowers like it.

Once again, I planted nasturtium seeds in various places, early and later, and this year I got one plant to grow. Its first bloom just opened this weekend. Welcome, little flower friend!

The flowery gifts of August.

family, love, my garden, , , , , , , ,
Nodding Violet

Right in the middle of a very busy week my oldest daughter Pearl and her youngest Maggie came to visit, and that gave me a lovely and relaxing day. They had been camping for four nights from Wisconsin to here, on their way taking Maggie back to college in the southern reaches of California. It had been a long time since I’d had some focused time with this grandchild; we did a lot of catching up on face-to-face time and hugging.

And she suggested baking cookies together, and even suggested which kind of cookies. She would like the chocolate macaroons I make at Christmas; it just so happened that for some reason I’d bought almond paste last week, not really knowing why. So we made those marzipaney treats that I’ve never before made at any other time of the year.

The recipe calls for egg whites but not yolks. So we made Key Lime Cookies to use up the yolks, and to use a few of the big bag of limes I’d bought recently, I also can’t remember why. I sent Maggie on her way with most of the cookies this morning.

We three made a feast of a dinner together and Maggie went out to gather flowers for the table. 🙂

As for tomatoes, an unrepeatable sort of agricultural science experiment has been going on here. I have a few plants in the back yard that I intentionally planted and fed and have been watering…. I staked them and have so far picked about fifteen delicious Sungold cherry tomatoes off of one spindly vine.

By contrast, growing out of a crack in the sidewalk in front is a Green Doctor cherry tomato plant, looking hale and hearty, on which are growing bunches of tasty fat fruits. That plant is living proof of what I have known for a long time, that in our climate at least, tomatoes love heat more than they love water. The only water the sidewalk tomato received was one light rain in July. But its roots, wherever they are, are kept warm all night by the concrete that soaked up the full sun during the day. I’m thinking about scattering more seeds in that crack next spring.

I need to divide my Dutch Iris this fall, so I had my helper Alejandro remove most of them, and here they wait, on the side of the driveway:

Today a cord of firewood was delivered right next to them; the arranging of that was one of the many business calls I made this week. I’m amazed at how many tasks were completed (trash removed, garage door serviced, Household Hazardous Waste disposed of) or projects started.

I was waiting in a lab and saw these signs on the wall. This way of using the word love is a pet peeve of mine, which I began to acquire in the days of the toy named Care Bear, about whom it was said, “Care Bear loves you.” Ugh. I don’t like to trivialize love by lying to a child about what a toy can do, but I also find the use of the passive-voice “You are loved” to be false.

True love is not something that just happens; even falling in love requires something human from us. Who is that unnamed somebody who loves me, that the sign seems to know about? Of course it’s all too inane. Let’s look at flowers instead. Try not to look too long at the distracting hose in the next picture. Here you can see the sneezeweed starting to bloom behind the zinnias.

My vegetable garden is quite skimpy this summer, but I am thankful to have zinnias everywhere; I will plant some greens again next month, and take my joy from the flowery gifts of August.