Victory Garden Defeat—the battle, not the war July 23, 2012

Leave a garden for a week during a heatwave, and this may be the only happy thing left.  It’s pretty clear that some of these plants just didn’t even make an effort to stay around, resentful little wimps that they are.  Apparently, they are not fond of pre-teen neighbor attention, and went all drought drama queen on her.  Some supposedly fantastic basil variety just decided life wasn’t worth living without me.  Really, BASIL? Are you not aware of your own horticultural roots (so to speak)? Your cousins over in the container seemed to be happy to continue living, while you decided that suicide was the only option.  Whatever. Let’s just say that you have not earned a spot in the Peachy garden of 2013.

Our Purple Heart goes to our darling dear one, the erstwhile fighter of a cherry tomato, little Sungold.  Before I snapped this shot, her eight or so sisters had already been snatched up and gobbled down by a kid who has fallen hook, line, and sinker for the propaganda that these things are as sweet as candy!  In this case, it is actually true.  And intensified by the crazy heat and lack of rain.  These babies on a pizza are insanely delicious.

If I were an urban farmer, like our neighbors down the street, I would be in severe danger of not making the grade right now. Edible flowers don’t put up so well for the winter.  As it stands, I am grateful for the opportunity to support those local farmers who didn’t go away last week, and whose crops didn’t throw the white flag up quite so quickly.  In the meantime, I am giving cool showers to all those folks in my yard who decided to stick around and give August a shot.

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Caprese Salad: The Food of the Gods July 9, 2012

This is what dinner looks like (in July) in a home where a teacher lives!  There is basil in the garden! Tomatoes aren’t “in” yet (that means in season, not trendy) in the backyard, but you can get some at the grocery store that don’t taste like soggy rice cakes.

Okay, the bologna thing still happens.  See previous confession, “Bad Parenting with Bologna/Baloney”

I know that you want a stylized, Pinteresque tutorial on how to construct this delicacy, so here is a picture of the ingredients:

Here’s what you do: Chop up some garlic and then warm it up with a couple of tablespoons of good olive oil in the microwave (or on the stove, if you feel that microwaves are Satan’s cooking devices—but, really, come on—his appliances were installed long before the introduction of the lowly microwave).  This makes the fresh garlic less raw and bitey.  If you want to offend Giada De Laurentiis, you may want to substitute garlic powder.  Then whisk in a tablespoon or so of balsamic vinegar.  By this time, you have sliced and arranged your tomatoes and fresh mozzarella in a way that could only be done by someone who did not go to work today.  If you did go to work, and you can still do this, I just need to hold on to the the belief that you have some large dust bunnies nesting elsewhere.  Toast up that nice Italian bread a bit, arrange it and your lovely basil and then drizzle your garlic/oil/balsamic yum over everything. Salt and fresh ground pepper.  Serve chewing gum for dessert, as everyone’s breath will smell like that of an old Italian dude.

Boom! Food of the Gods!