When I realized I left my drawstring bag filled with garlic somewhere at the market on Saturday, my puffy little dream of making homemade pitas with roasted garlic deflated.
When our daughter woke up with a fever on Sunday, I dug up a head of garlic (not the chunky-cloved Music variety I’d planned on roasting) and starting plotting a pot of soup instead.
The other day I looked up and saw a single strand of a spider’s web, an arc drooping under the weight of the steam that was still in the air from my shower.
Without thinking I reached up and flicked it loose from the tiles. Light was coming in through the window so it was illuminated as it descended, artful as steam coming off a skillet.
The descent of spider’s silk is nothing like steam curling up from a mess of sautéing shrimp, of course. Steam breaks into the air in unchoreographed swirls. That spider’s web, despite its lazy fall, was gnashing at the atmosphere, resisting gravity. Every molecule putting out a set of heels and digging in to try and stop, stop, stop.
Yesterday my daughter walked out of her violin lesson, looked up at the sky and said, “I love it when there’s a light rain and everything’s so bright. Look! The dandelions look like small suns.”
She was right. The late afternoon light was making the colors stand out from one another. The overgrown lawn was a series of crazy, green mohawks. Grape leaves on a trailing stem hung gold and red from a trellis in a neighboring yard.
Because of her moment of optimism, I thought about the short walk between her violin teacher’s studio and our car for the rest of the day.
I’m observing the way optimists think these days and noticing that the more I’m around people who are curious and funny and daring, the better I like my life and myself.
So it was a buzz to be in a room full of optimists at Sustainable South Sound‘s food summit this past weekend. Attendees heard from local politicians and experts then broke out in groups to brainstorm possibilities for our local food system. These were big thinking sessions that covered topics such as fairness, farms and food security. “What would it look like if…?” we were asked. “And how will we get there?” At the end of the day, I was saturated, happy and ready for a cup of tea and an early bedtime.
During one of the breaks I got into a conversation with a local farmer who dismissed my plans to write about winter squash this week. “You’ll have them all winter,” she said. “Do something on green tomatoes. The plants are all out now. Everyone has a ton of them.”
I couldn’t deny that my lone Sungold tomato plant was still in the garden, heavy with fruit that would never have a chance to ripen. And who’s one to argue with a farmer at a food summit? A couple of days later, I dug it up.
Green tomatoes are a versatile crop, if not a glamorous one. Some exquisite ways to use them up can be found here. But none of these recipes are staples in my house quite yet. We’re pretty much a two-stringed fiddle when it comes to the green ones. Fried green tomatoes – yes. Green tomato chutney – yes again.
My new farmer friend saves hers for chutney, too. She told me the recipe she waits all year to make is a combination of green tomato and lime.
Green Tomato and Lime Chutney
adapted from this recipe from In Kitchen and Garden by Leslie Land
2 ½ c white vinegar
1 c honey (keep the jar out to correct for sweetness at the end)
2 organic limes*
3 ½ lbs green tomatoes, coarsely chopped (I left my cherry tomatoes whole)
1 ¾ lbs apples, peeled, cored, and chopped
½ lb shallots, minced
10 oz golden raisins
¼ lb crystallized ginger, diced
3 T mustard seeds
2 tsp sea salt
*When using zest or rind in recipes, be sure to choose organic to avoid pesticides that are mixed in with the wax covering many conventional citrus crops.
Combine vinegar and honey in a large pot. Halve one of the limes and squeeze in the juice.
Cut the remaining rind and pith into matchsticks. Put the lime sticks in a small, deep saucepan and cover with an inch of water. Simmer over low heat until they’re soft enough to be cut with the edge of a fork. Mine were soft in about 15 minutes. Drain and rinse.
Add lime to the pot along with all other ingredients.
Cook over low heat, stirring frequently, until tomatoes and apples fall apart and the chutney is thick. This will take one to two hours.
Taste and adjust for more sweet or sour and add more honey or lime juice, accordingly. To avoid refined sugar, I opted for honey and started with one cup (the original recipe calls for two cups of white sugar). I added quite a bit more honey in the end, maybe another half cup or so. When I make this again, I’ll omit the lime rind and start simply with the juice of one lime and add more for flavor later. I found the rind too bitter and the honey unable to take off the edge.
Store in the refrigerator or can in a boiling water bath and give away to friends.
Posted by Chie
We had the honor of visiting Ralph and Jan’s magical garden today. It’s filled with love; with the fragrance of roses and lilac, peace and serenity.
Jan and Ralph: weavers of garden magic.
A peek into a fairy house.
Near the backyard basil patch.
Adding enchantment to the trellis.
Found treasure: a Hobbit's hat.
One of the highlights is their gorgeous circular patch of basil for pesto.
Ralph told us his inspiration is his grandson who asks for pesto pasta often. He plants dozens of basil plants every year and has already made about 70 jars so far this summer.
We left amazed at the magical things that can be done within the bounds of a city lot and how much food can be grown if you focus on just one crop.
Our heartfelt thanks to Ralph and Jan for giving us a tour of their paradise and the refreshing tea and conversation!
With that, here are some summery delights that come to mind when I think of basil and tomato.
Caprese: Basil, heirloom tomatoes – the green zebras are my favorite standby – buffalo mozzarella, extra virgin olive oil, Celtic sea salt, freshly ground black pepper, balsamic vinegar.
Bruschetta: ripe tomatoes, fresh basil, extra virgin olive oil, sea salt, lemon juice; traditionally served on toasted baguette slices brushed with olive oil.
Gazpacho: ripe tomatoes, cucumber, red pepper, basil, garlic, extra virgin olive oil, sea salt, freshly ground pepper.
Sundried tomatoes and basil pesto.
Heirloom cherry tomatoes, especially Sungolds. They’re jewels in the garden.
Grilled cheese sandwiches with basil.
Cannellini Bean Stew
In the colder months, I love to make stews.
This is one, with its thick, tomato-based broth. It’s fun to eat it with biscuits or oat groats.
2 cups cannellini beans, soaked overnight or for 8 hours
10 fresh Roma tomatoes or 1-32 oz can tomatoes, diced (Muir Glen uses non-BPA lined cans)
2 onions, small dice
2 medium carrots, small dice
5 ribs of celery, minced
1 bulb garlic
½ lb crimini mushrooms, sliced
1 fennel bulb, chopped
broth (chicken, vegetable, or mushroom), to cover ingredients by 2 inches
extra virgin olive oil
1 cup red wine
½ bunch thyme
2 bay leaves
1 bunch basil
Drain and rinse the cannellini beans. Cover with water and bring to a boil in a
medium pot, skimming the foam off as it boils. Bring down to a simmer and cover.
Cook until tender for about 30 minutes. Add 2 tsp. sea salt.
In a large pot with a heavy bottom, add the oil and saute the onion until translucent.
Add the carrots and celery. Add the garlic, fennel, and mushrooms and continue to saute until fragrant.
When all the vegetables are sauteed, add the tomato and olive oil.
Let it cook down until thick and pasty. The tomato will sweeten.
Add red wine and cook off the alcohol. Add the broth and herbs and cook until the flavors blend.
Biscuit
This is a gluten-free biscuit that is delicious served as an accompaniment for stew.
1¼ cups teff flour and amaranth flour, combined
1 cup milk (nut, grain, or animal)
4 free-range organic eggs, separated
5 T organic butter or coconut oil, melted
1 T organic butter or coconut oil
½ tsp sea salt
2 T or more fresh herbs (combination of thyme, sage, rosemary), chopped
1-10 inch cast iron skillet
Preheat oven to 400F. Place skillet in the oven.
Beat the egg whites in a large bowl until they form peaks when you take the whisk away.
Set aside.
Combine flours and salt in a medium bowl. Combine the milk and yolks in a small bowl, then add
into the flour to combine. Add butter or coconut oil and fold in.
Gently fold in egg whites. Melt oil in the skillet and pour the batter into the heated skillet.
Serve with more butter or coconut oil and enjoy with the stew.
