Spring’s moody weather—we finally had rain—and the emergence of color pops in my garden gently remind me to stop and admire the continuation of life amid what seems like dark times. It’s so easy to get caught up in the negativity in the world, so I choose to immerse myself where birds chirp and bees sing.
Purple BroccoliHearty beetMy pink lavender is a stunner!Sugar snap peas have taken over.First leaves on Paradiso, my fig tree.Red cabbage ready to pick.
I’ve been struggling with vision issues due to massive floaters, and spending time on the computer has been difficult. It’s frustrating and zaps my creativity, but gardening requires no reading, and I let my hands do the work.
The kitchen has called my name many times this month to explore a few new creations like this orange and chocolate posset from The Cozy Plum. It’s creamy and orange-y, like a creamsicle, and it’s irresistible! My friends and I ate it so fast that there was no time for photos, but check out this easy recipe and delight your guests.
Something else I’ve discovered is how to make my own dishwasher and laundry soap. Guilt set in when I realized how much plastic in those little cubes went onto my dishes and into the ground water. I tried unsuccessfully to make powder detergents and got filmy dishes and rough, powder-dusted clothes. I found this cool website, MyMerryMessyLife, and tried Sara McFall’s recipes to great success. Dishes are sparkling, and laundry is clean and fresh. She has recipes for many all-natural home products so check her out. Dishwasher soap. Laundry soap.
Along a trail in Point Loma, in towering trees, blue herons build enormous nests to raise their fledglings. I find it captivating to watch these magnificent birds either sitting in the nest or feeding their little ones. They are hard to capture in photos, but here’s a peek.
Mom and Pop watching over their fledglings.
I wish you a spring full of sunshine, good times with family and friends, and a harvest of seasonal edibles, whether grown yourself or from the farm.
“It is spring again. The earth is like a child that knows poems by heart.” ― Rainer Maria Rilke
Fruit trees have this miraculous ability to produce a delicious edible from a single blossom; however, pomegranates do it with more flair and panache. The drama unfolds as orange orbs open to delicate squash blossom-like blooms that eventually form a deep scarlet, leathery skin packed with tiny ruby-jeweled seeds, perfect for the beginnings of a seasonal martini.
My tree produced over 100 pomegranates this year, so besides juicing them for drinks, I de-seeded them for salads and made pomegranate jelly, something I started doing in my teens to give away for holiday gifts.
Even as the pomegranate season draws to a close, with most of her leaves fallen and naked limbs exposed, she retains her dignity—like Persephone retreating within—waiting until spring awakens her once again with gifts of tender budding greens. I try not to play favorites, but can you tell how much I love my pomegranate tree?
The pomegranate flower looks like a squash blossom Indian necklace.These halved pomegranates look like pretty flowers!
To celebrate this transitional season, I juice the seeds, a labor of love, and make a tart libation. My pomegranate martini is infused with fresh juice, gin or vodka, orange liqueur, and a splash of lime juice. Divine.
This sipper makes a colorful pre-Thanksgiving dinner cocktail. I love the glamour of the straight-up martini. You can make a batch for a crowd by combining the juice, gin or vodka, liqueur, and lime in a pitcher and chilling it until ready to drink. Pour it over ice and add sparkling water or white wine.
Treasure times with family and friends and celebrate togetherness with good food and drink!
The Pomegranate Martini
Makes one martini
Some may feel intimidated by the amount of juice you need to squeeze. Never fear. I have found the easiest and most efficient way to juice a pomegranate is to use an electric juicer, like you’d use for oranges. Wear an apron because the red liquid will squirt onto your clothes, countertops, and elsewhere, but you will be rewarded with plenty of juice. This recipe calls for equal measures of juice and alcohol. Feel free to increase the gin or vodka to two ounces with the same amount of pomegranate juice.
1 ½ ounces fresh pomegranate juice*
1 ½ ounces gin or vodka (I prefer gin)
½ ounce orange liqueur, such as Solerno (a Sicilian blood orange liqueur), Cointreau, or Royale Orange from France (my favorite for its orange peel flavor)
1 tablespoon fresh lime juice
1 thin lime slice for garnish
Fill a cocktail shaker halfway with ice.
Measure and pour the pomegranate juice, gin or vodka, orange liqueur, and lime juice into the shaker.
Shake, shake, shake. I usually do about 25 shakes.
Strain the mixture into a martini glass and garnish with a lime slice.
Sip and savor.
* Feel free to substitute bottled pomegranate juice.
Fun fact: I was curious to know how many seeds were in an average pomegranate. My research revealed anywhere from 600 to 1400 seeds, depending on the fruit size. Who took the time to count all those seeds?
The seeded juice is prized as an antioxidant, anti-inflammatory, and vitamin C elixir. Plus, it’s excellent for brain health. In Sicily, pomegranates are stacked high in pyramid form and juiced on the spot for a refreshing drink.
Eat a pomegranate and visit a bath; your youth will haste back. Ancient Egyptian proverb.
A few months ago, I woke up and realized how much I missed writing this blog. My editing newsletter took its place for a while, but it was time to separate the two. This blog is for pure fun and allows me to release my inner spirit for the joy of it.
It’s summer love in the Knight Oasis this August. My garden has had a workout! I loaded the middle box with green beans, which are now all harvested and many frozen for future use. I’ve replaced them with yellow zucchini, parsley, carrot, and basil seeds. The herbs, especially the basil, sport larger and more aromatic leaves in the late summer and early fall. I’ll have a pesto party in October! My friend, John, gifted me a grapevine, now growing up a new trellis, and two butternut squash seedlings, which are taking over the ground space behind my beds.
Every year, I like to try to plant something I’ve never done before, and this year, it’s hard squash. My front bed is seeded with acorn, delicata, and red kuri squashes for a November harvest and winter of good eating. The back bed is lush with zucchini, Kellogg, Costoluto Genovese, and Sungold cherry tomatoes. Yesterday, I spied and ate the first two ripe figs of the summer!
The kitchen has been calling my name, but not for my usual canning of tomatoes and jamming of fruits. The bright flavors of Adele’s Caponata are the perfect use of my garden’s harvest. Make a batch and keep it on hand for easy entertaining. I’ve served it as an appetizer with crostini, on a toasted baguette for lunch, and stirred it into pearled couscous for an easy dinner. What are you making with your garden produce this summer?
We celebrated my mom’s 93rd birthday with a small gathering, and I made a super easy and delicious ginger-mint shrimp dish from New York Times Cooking. It’s perfect for a crowd, and there were no leftovers! For dessert, I whipped up a batch of mini pavlovas, her favorite, and instead of my usual lemon curd filling, I churned two ice creams: salted caramel and fresh peach. David Lebovitz’s book, The Perfect Scoop, delivered on point with his salted caramel sauce that I swirled into crème fraiche ice cream. Buonissimo!
Celebrating my mom with a birthday pavlova stuffed with homemade ice cream, with a drizzle of caramel sauce, and sauteed peaches.
Because tomatoes and zucchini dominate my garden, I created this easy caprese-ish recipe. It’s my answer to the perfect summer dinner.
1/2cupsliced red peppers or roasted red peppers, sliced
1/2cup mini mozzarella balls, quartered
2-4ripe tomatoes, coarsely chopped or 1 cup cherry tomatoes, cut in half
1/4cupExtra virgin olive oil
1cupthinly sliced basil
2Tbspine nuts, toasted
salt, pepper, and pepperoncini to taste
6oz.pastaI like the squiggly kind that is forkable with some texture, like Trader Joe’s Gigli or Cascatelli.
Method
Mix all the veggie ingredients in a large bowl, except the basil. Add enough olive oil to coat, about ¼ cup. Sprinkle in salt and pepper to taste, and add pepperoncini for some heat. Be sure to season with enough salt and pepper. Bring a large pot of water to a boil and add 1 tsp. salt. Add pasta and boil until al dente, about 10 minutes. Drain and immediately toss into the bowl of veggies. Taste again for seasoning. Gently stir in basil. Sprinkle with pine nuts. Enjoy while warm.
Notes
*Note: I think feta cheese would substitute nicely for the mozzarella if you want a Greek flair.
I’m so glad to be back! In next month’s blog, I will take you on a road trip to northern Arizona, including a jeep ride deep in the canyons of Canyon de Chelly. The experience of a lifetime!
That beautiful season, the Summer! Filled was the air with a dreamy and magical light; and the landscape Lay as if new created in all the freshness of childhood. – Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
A late summer garden has a tranquility found no other time of the year.
Despite the pandemic daze I often find myself in, being cooped up has reignited a flame in my cooking life, using seasonal ingredients in imaginative ways. My over-grown garden of veggies nudged my palate to explore new tastes and combinations that permeated further into Italian bread, stone fruit, and a deep dive into wood-fired oven cooking.
My garden is delivering cucumbers, zucchini, and basil in abundance as I anticipate the ripening of my favorite member of the garden club, the San Marzano tomato. Eating zucchini every night can be tiresome. Still, I find great pleasure in a sliced zucchini, drizzled with lemon olive oil and grilled or zucchini tucked into foil packets of shallots and basil, to be topped with fresh fish, and ready for the BBQ.Â
Fragrant, juicy peaches have been my obsession, making peach cobbler, peach and cucumber salad, peach ice cream, and peach with ricotta on toast. I love peaches and wish the season lasted longer!
Bread baking is still part of my life, now using olives or walnuts in the dough and also learning to make focaccia. Our last batch of focaccia with rosemary was so good, it was as if an angel from heaven descended and anointed its spongy texture, and salty, herbal taste. Irresistible.
My friend, Chris, has a stunning wood-fired oven in his backyard, and after baking pizza one night, I convinced him that we could make a complete meal in the oven the next night while the fire was still hot. Lemon chicken, Italian white beans, summer veggies, and focaccia sizzled side by side. I felt like I was back in Italy, my other love.Â
Here’s a sampling of what Chris and I have been formulating and happily eating. Perhaps one of these photos will inspire you to capture the mid-summer harvest in new and delicious ways.Â
My favorite fish dinners this summer.
Ready for the BBQ. Halibut on top of zucchini, lemon olive oil, basil, and tomatoes.
Lunch of fresh prawns, poke, and grilled veggies.
A great French tradition – Ratatouille!
Garden fresh and luscious.
Plums and apricots in a frangipane base. So delectable!
My bread learning curve – French Country and Focaccia.
Cocktail of the month: Aviation
A summer cooler – introducing The Aviation.
My favorite – Caprese.
Chris’ Caprese. Belissimo!
My Caprese. Delightful!
Breakfast of champions! Sourdough waffles with apricots and cherries and honeyed ricotta on homemade bread topped with peaches and thyme.
Local Parrots testing out the new feeder. Bird watching is fun and entertaining!
Amidst all this self-isolation, I’ve discovered new ways to keep from going crazy, which has happened a few times. The unexpected evolution of these new hobbies is a spin-off of my gardening and cooking passions. They are bird watching and bread-making, one using the right side of my brain and an inactive pursuit, and the other more science-focused, active, and sometimes frustrating. Both have helped fend off the loneliness.
Weeding is my usual therapy and helps me generate ideas for my writing, except for these days, when my garden is the cleanest of weeds it’s been in years. I started to tidy up the garage, and that became boring all too soon, but in the process, I did find two old bird feeders. A good scrub and new seed were all that was needed to lure new feathered friends into my yard. It took a few weeks but now my garden is a flurry of birds. The doves arrive in the early morning and come back later for happy hour. The juvenile doves are so fun to watch; they are wobbly and still unsure of their new wings. Finches and sparrows feed mid-day, and the bluejays, crows, parrots, and occasional hawks swing by to enjoy the vibe. I’ve observed the mourning doves’ mating dance, parrots entertaining me and themselves, yellow-bellied, black and white spotted wrens who are so breathtakingly beautiful, and recently, a bluejay who loves to hang out with me on my patio. Time slips away, and some days, my mom will ask me what I did all day, and I’ll say, “I watched the birds!”Â
The doves especially have made such an impression on me that they now have a role in the historical fiction novel I’m writing called The Sicilian Sorceress. Doves have been written about since the Bronze Age and were revered in ancient Greece as signs of peace, devotion, love, and friendship. Doves mate for life. The things I’ve learned!
These two doves mated in the tree next door, then came to my yard to discuss baby names.
Without this pandemic, I would never have met these new friends who keep me company during the lonely times and show me that all we really need is food, song, and love.
The trio taking turns.
On to my next new interest – bread-making. Pastries and baking were the focus and passion of my life for many years but only included smidgens of bread science. And what a science it is! Using a starter instead of instant yeast is a whole new ballgame, as I recently discovered. I tried making my own starter, but then the flour shortage happened. According to King Arthur’s recipe, you must feed the starter with one cup of flour twice a day. My flour stash was quickly evaporating, so that put an end to starting from scratch. A friend in Portland, Oregon, sent me a starter and gave me directions to keep it going using way less flour, so I was back in business. My friend Eva shared her technique for making sourdough bread, and I thought to myself, “No sweat!” Wrong again. Two days of vigilant fermenting, stretching, and worshipping the dough resulted in a watery mess without enough character to even form a ball. Dejected, it quickly found the trash can, and I was more determined than ever to learn how to make a decent loaf. Not that I want to be a bread queen, but I figure when your brain takes on a new challenge, it usually “rises” to the occasion. My aunt recommended Ken Forkish’s book, Flour, Water, Salt, Yeast, and I read almost half of it in one sitting. I’ll start slow to gain confidence before I move on to more complicated bread. I don’t have a choice – I just ordered 50# of flour!
My new guide to successful bread baking.
I hope you are finding some diversions to help you through this delirious time. Please let me know what you are doing to stay sane.
As I learned from Sparky, when things aren’t going the way you want them to, Shift Your Energy!
“Live as if you were to die tomorrow. Learn as if you were to live forever.”Â
Homegrown Rosy red fingerlings fresh from the garden! Dirt doesn’t cling to them like it does with the Yukon Gems.
I’d never thought of growing potatoes until I visited my family in Denver last year and my green-thumb sister-in-law, Mirna, showed me how. Her homegrown potatoes were finished for the season in October, and I helped her dig them up before the first frost. The yield amazed me – at least five pounds. Right then and there, determination set in to give the mighty spud a try.Â
This is how the potatoes come packaged from Peaceful Valley.
My research led me to Peaceful Valley, an online garden shop specializing in organic tubers, seeds and trees. I purchased “seed” potatoes from them after learning grocery store potatoes are often treated to prevent them from sprouting. Peaceful Valley provides excellent on-line videos with step-by-step instructions on how to cut the eyes and dry them for a day to harden the exposed skin. This prevents the moist surface from creating mildew.Â
I used two extra bags of soil hilling the potatoes.
Into the ground they went. I waited and waited. It must have been four weeks before I saw the emergence of green leaves. To protect them from sun exposure, you use a technique called “hilling.” As soon as leaves arrive, you make a hill of dirt around the base and keep them as far underground as possible. I hilled my plants many times as they grew tall. When the leaves dry out and wilt, the potatoes are ready to harvest. At first, I dug up a few here and there to eat that night. Most of the potatoes I planted were Red Thumb Fingerling and French Fingerling. The names accurately reflect the small, dusty red, oblong potatoes that came out of the ground, looking like they’ve just been to the beauty parlor – all cleaned up! Their creamy richness lent themselves to simple boiling and steaming to eat with salt and butter.Â
These are the larger Yukon Gems. Buttery!
It’s now late spring, and my appetite for bright summer veggies kicked in. Even though I relished in my every other day harvesting, I dug up all the potatoes to make room for squash, cucumbers, poblanos and cantaloupe. I love the activity of a treasure hunt, and as I turn the dirt, it’s like magic as potatoes appear on my shovel. The entire raised bed gifted me with a yield of around 15 pounds! As I crumbled the soil to prepare it for its next visitors, my fingers combed through the dirt to find at least 30 more potatoes, comfortably tucked into their warm home, still hiding from me.Â
Summer squash now occupies the potato patch.
What am I going to do with all these potatoes? Needing a cool place to store them, an idea came to me: Put the spuds in my wine cooler to save them from sprouting. San Diego’s climate is not conducive to storing dry produce. I hope this works! Let me know about your homegrown potato-planting experience and how you keep them fresh. Next week, I’ll share a simple recipe that honors the virtue of my new favorite winter vegetable.
“I only want to live in peace, plant potatoes and dream!”Â
The life in my backyard is so breathtakingly alive right now. I am especially drawn to my two 60-year-old orange trees who greet me everyday with bursts of intensely perfumed orange blossoms that permeate my backyard. So heady is this fragrance, I find myself making excuses to stay home, just to linger in my garden. This heavenly smell is reminiscent of springtime in my home town of Riverside, California, where, in my earlier days, the orange trees possibly outnumbered the residents!
Not to neglect the brilliant oranges that are a part of this scene, they too deserve attention. It’s as if they are asking, “ So, what will you create with us today?” As much as I love eating them ripe off the tree, I came up with this easy recipe which also uses the prolific Swiss chard making a strong appearance in my garden right now. The flavors interact perfectly – some tang, some crunch, some sweetness. It’s colorful and delicious. I love it as a side dish or make it a main by tossing in some cannellini beans for vegetarian or sweet chicken sausage slices for a meatier meal.
5-6cupfuls of sliced Swiss chardstems removed and cut into pieces separately
1large shallotsliced into rings
2largefresh oranges, cut into 1” cubes
3or more Tablespoons roughly chopped pistachios
Extra virgin olive oil
Salt & pepper
Method
Saute the chard stems in 1 Tablespoon olive oil until tender, about 10 minutes. Salt to taste.
In a small pan, saute the shallot in 1 Tablespoon olive oil until deep brown and almost crispy.
Add the sliced chard to the chard stems and cook on medium heat, tossing frequently until just beginning to wilt. Do not overcook or it will lose its beautiful green color. Salt and pepper to taste.
Toss in the shallots and oranges.
Sprinkle in the pistachios.
This is especially good when drizzled with Orange or Mandarin Extra Virgin Olive Oil. Add a splash of Fig Balsamic Vinegar to take it over the edge.
Voila! Tasty and nutritious!
“Did you ever sleep in a field of orange-trees in bloom? The air which one inhales deliciously is a quintessence of perfumes. This powerful and sweet smell, as savoury as a sweetmeat, seems to penetrate one, to impregnate, to intoxicate, to induce languor, to bring about a dreamy and somnolent torpor. It is like opium prepared by fairy hands and not by chemists.” ― Guy de Maupassant, 88 Short Stories
My feelings exactly! Take deep breaths and drink in the beauty of Spring!
P.S. I named this story Orange Blossom Special after the bluegrass song that stole my heart when I lived in Southern Illinois. Here is a fun rendition of the “Fiddle Player’s National Anthem.”
This week only! Buds everywhere! My garden has stated that dormancy and hibernation are over and it’s time to create. Create leaves and buds that will burst forth into fruit and flowers. It’s such a delicate time of year. The crossover, so to speak, of stillness and the conservation of energy, to the release, in tiny increments of stored up power. The curtains are going up and it’s showtime.
Paradiso Fig Just Budding
Paradiso’s Crown of new leaves
There is one drama queen in my yard that loves to act up and challenge me. She is the fuyu persimmon tree I named Francesca. I planted her last May. As much as I talked with her, fertilized and watered her, she completely ignored me. Like she couldn’t care less and wanted to die. No new growth, just sticks for arms. She seemed to glare at me, holding her ground and not budging. She stood there steadfast, pouting for almost a year. I was ready to replace her with an understudy, a pretty plum tree. Last weekend while on my garden rounds, lo and behold, she finally decided to make an appearance and deliver green buds! Was it all the rain we received this winter or did her neighbor, Reed, the avocado tree, give her a pep talk? “Hey girl – You’re late for curtain call!” Whatever the reason, I am grateful she has finally decided to join the family.
Francesca’s Debut!
Reed, my avocado is loaded with buds. I’m dreaming of a bumper crop!
Besides the visual, there’s the sensory expression of spring. The sweet scent of orange blossoms drifts in the air, five different songbirds serenade me as the mourning doves chime in with their rythmic beat of coo coo, coo coo, coo coo. Hummingbirds shower in the water spewing from my sprinklers and bees pollinate everything they can find. It’s my own live theater production that keeps evolving before my very eyes. Everyday a new song, a new bloom, a new me reacting to the show. And so life unravels one day at a time….
Look carefully for the hummingbird relaxing in the pomegranate tree
“Is the spring coming?” he said. “What is it like?”…
“It is the sun shining on the rain and the rain falling on the sunshine…”
― Frances Hodgson Burnett, The Secret Garden
Romanesco. It sounds sexy, alluring, Italian. Like a tall, dark and handsome Roman God. But, in reality, it is nothing like the vision the name conjures up. Our eyes met in the produce department of a specialty food store last year. Its tall and pointy bright green clusters of organized mini Christmas trees spoke to me. “Pick me! Pick me!”
Little did I know that this newish, trending vegetable would become one of my favorites. A cross between broccoli and cauliflower and of Italian origin (I love anything Italian!), its densely packed flower buds form repeating spiral patterns that scientists have fun with. Called a “fractal” vegetable, it’s been discussed in mathematical and architectural circles as a miracle of nature.
The taste is earthier than broccoli and the body is firm with a texture more like a cauliflower. I cook it al dente so it retains its bite on the inside while having a softer first outer layer.
When I saw the seedlings in my local nursery last fall, I snatched them up, eager to have a love affair with Romanesco all spring. Watching my new garden additions grow was every bit as exciting as my fava bean experiment. Something different, a new character in my raised beds. The plants took off quickly, shooting three feet skyward, their enormous, sturdy leaves folding over one another. After four months of doting on my Romanesco, waiting for the spiky green vegetable to birth, I almost lost faith. All I had was a garden full of big leaves. Until one day, at the beginning of month five and after my daily inspection, a small chartreuse cone caught my eye, pushing up from the cuddle of her mother leaves. It was happening!
These plants are teaching me patience. Once emerged, they grow quickly. They are so gorgeous, I hated to cut the umbilical cord but I did. I shared this special gem, a la Italian, with my foodie cousin Ali and my gourmet mom.
There are so many ways to prepare Romanesco. I wanted to give it an Italian flair so I cut off each spiral, roasted them and then tossed with fried capers, olive oil, roasted red peppers, minced garlic and red pepper flakes. It does lose some of its vibrant green color in the cooking but the flavor and texture make up for it. There are four more plants in my garden in various stages awaiting for me to show my appreciation by cooking them in some creative way. I have all spring!
My assortment of collected succulents awaiting a forever home
This spring nature called and begged for attention. My yard and garden had been severely neglected over the winter months and the weeds were suffocating everything they touched. The task seemed so overwhelming that I kept procrastinating. The roses appeared the saddest so that’s where I began the project that evolved into a two-month mini-landscape. Inspired by my progress, I kept moving forward and like purging old clothes that no longer fit, I removed plants that were too thirsty or difficult to maintain, leaving more breathing room. I even cleared out a space to plant a gorgeous young Fuyu Persimmon I named Francesca!
Francesca. My newest love
In the middle of the project, I discovered succulents. These fast-growing and water-wise plants would add a new dimension to my yard. I stalked my neighborhood with clippers and bag in hand, snagging an assortment of shapes and sizes. My friends donated clippings from their yards and before I knew it, I had enough for several potfuls. What I didn’t realize was the beauty and intricacy each succulent embodied. Some are cascading dreadlocks while others remind me of artichokes. I love the delicate rose shapes that contrast the assertive spikes of the aloe family. Each so individual.
Intricate spikes
Artichoke look-a-like
Delicate fans of evolving
Almost crab legs!
The art is in arranging them together almost like a bouquet of flowers. My friend Eva took a class on planting succulents and passed on this advice: Use a thriller, a filler and a spiller. With this catchy expression in mind, I started experimenting. I became the artist, almost like creating a mosaic, filing in the dirt spaces with polished rocks.
The composed piece
A spiller, a thriller and a filler.
The combinations are endless. Once again, my garden has given me a lesson, nudging me out of my traditional role of perennials and opening my soul to another dimension. These awakenings, although small give my life such joy. And the journey continues…
Tomato sauce recipes are ubiquitous. Ask your friends and they will all have their own versions which most cling to like a plum pit. If you grow your own tomatoes like I do, you want to do something really special with your precious harvest.
San Marzanos in abundance!
This year I am growing Italian San Marzano heirloom tomatoes. Originating from the town of San Marzano sul Sarno in southern Italy near Naples, they are a prized Italian treasure. You can usually find the canned version in specialty stores but rarely will you see them in the fresh fruit section of the grocery stores or even at Farmer’s Markets. They are a smaller, more elongated version of an American plum tomato or Roma, with a thick pulp and low acidity which makes them perfect for preserving. As if overnight, about five pounds of them ripened simultaneously in my garden. It was time to can.
How did I decide on what kind of sauce to make with these coveted tomatoes? I consulted my library of traditional Italian cookbooks from Giuliano Buglialli to Ada Boni. The suggestions ranged from complex to simple. From my travels in Italy, I know that the true Italian version of “sugo di pomodoro” or tomato sauce is not to embellish it with too many flavors. The intention is to keep it simple so the tang of the tomato can shine. I liked Bugialli’s technique of simplicity so improvised with my own twist.
Handful of basil chiffonadethinly sliced basil leaves
Method
Cut the tomatoes in half lengthwise.
Place in a deep saucepan.
Stir in Garlic Olive Oil
Stir in basil. The basil helps bring out the flavor of the tomato.
Cook over low-medium heat, stirring occasionally until juice is released and tomatoes break down. This took about 2 hours.
The finished sauce, thick and juicy and delectable.
Most people will pass it through a food mill to eliminate the skins and seeds. Not me. I am ok with seeing and eating the entire fruit. You can either pour it over hot pasta and sprinkle with parmesan or preserve it by canning like I did. Instead of placing my jars in a water bath and sealing my cans, I opt to freeze my sauce in the jars. It lasts nicely, keeps its vibrant red color and is easy!
Yield: About 6+ cups of sauce. I could just eat it with a spoon out of the jar.
“Knowledge is knowing that a tomato is a fruit, wisdom is not putting it in a fruit salad.” ― Miles Kington
Color is the theme of this vibrant and hearty side dish that delivers both bold flavors and textures. Reminiscent of something Italian, it is the picture-perfect picnic dish. Using a mandoline or vegetable slicer will make quick work of prepping the veggies. Be sure to slice them thinly, 1/8″ – 1/4″ thick, or you will be waiting forever for it to finish cooking. I used my herbal olive oils from The Virtuous Olive, to really push the flavors. It’s ok to use different veggies from the ones I chose. This is delicious hot or cold. Just paint your palette and be prepared for rave reviews!
1-2tsp.chopped fresh herbsthyme, basil, parsley or your choice or use herbs de Provence
salt
Method
Preheat oven to 350 degrees. Lightly oil an 8 X 10" pan. The size of the pan is not important. If you are feeding a crowd, use a larger pan and prep more veggies.
Toss veggies lightly in Extra Virgin Olive Oil.
Layer zucchini slices along the side of the pan. Sprinkle with garlic, scatter the herbs and lightly salt. Repeat layering with tomatoes, garlic, herbs and salt, then the eggplant, garlic, herbs and salt. Continue layering until you've reached the end of the pan. If there are gaps, like I had in mine, roll up thin slices of zucchini and tomato to form mini roses. They serve a purpose and look pretty too. Drizzle entire dish with Bel Tocco Extra Virgin Olive Oil or Basil Extra Virgin Olive Oil.
Bake for 1 hour or until veggies are soft but not soggy. Let cool and serve either warm or cold.
This story is re-published from a July 2015 post. It is the perfect way to use those fresh, summer veggies.
“Summer night– even the stars are whispering to each other.” — Kobayashi Issa
How can you not help falling in love with birds? Every morning as I write, I gaze into a wonderland of constant fluttering and tune into their radio station. Finches share the seed feeder with mourning doves, pigeons and even crows. If a hummingbird isn’t drinking from my bottle of homemade sugar syrup, it’s sucking nectar from my wild and overgrown purple salvia, and the bountiful orange and lemon blossoms. Occasionally, a hawk visits. When this happens, a hush comes over my garden and life freezes. Clans of wild parrots swoop in just to shake things up, with their bright green flash of feathers and loud squawking alerting the neighborhood that they have arrived.
Nyjer seed breakfast. Yum.
Many days I wish I could join them, dipping and soaring, watching the world anonymously. I would enter another realm, and embrace that sense of freedom and exploration wings provide. Oh to dream!
I couldn’t help sharing this gorgeous creation of nature.
Although my garden is not unique, I feel like I have created an environment for a multi-cultural group of winged species who harmoniously co-habitate. How can we capture this state of being and use it as a model for we humans? I think a good place to start is to close our eyes to color and size, and focus on sharing more of our real, vulnerable selves. What are your ideas?
Ciao and take flight to your dreams,
Mary
“Once upon a time, when women were birds, there was the simple understanding that to sing at dawn and to sing at dusk was to heal the world through joy. The birds still remember what we have forgotten, that the world is meant to be celebrated.” ― Terry Tempest Williams, When Women Were Birds: Fifty-four Variations on Voice
The delicate beauty of the rich orange pomegranate flower always amazes me. My tree this year, its third, is flush with flowers which means lots of fruit this fall!
Sometimes neglect yields great surprises. My garden is my sanctuary and I feel very disconnected when I am not able to spend time weeding and cultivating. These times when I feel so overwhelmed by life, my friend Mother Nature steps in as if to say, “I’ve taken care of your garden for you so you can catch your breath.” This seems to be a frequent occurrence in my land of fruits and vegetables.
Handfuls of mini, almost wild-like strawberries suddenly propagated prolifically in their fertile home.
The month of March entered and left so quickly that when I finally took time yesterday to purge the lettuce gone to seed, I was able to take a closer look at the activity. It was as if a magic spell was cast upon my garden and my fairy godmother left behind a few things to surprise me.
A layer of gravel lays between my raised garden beds. It’s not unusual for random weeds to pop up and survive in this bone dry rocky dirt. Over the weeks, I watched as unusual “weeds” randomly sprouted. I did not pull them out, thinking they might be dandelions. Yesterday their identity was revealed – they are Italian Chicory from last winter’s garden. How amazing that they rooted themselves in gravel, amid serious neglect and are now growing tall dark green stems! Even though I am surprised, these guys found a place to camp that mirrors their native southern Italy with its dry, arid weather. This was one of my favorite plants last year as it finished off its cycle with profuse periwinkle blue blossoms that continued to bloom into May. These squatters can stay as long as they like.
I would never have guessed that Italian Chicory could survive in a land of gravel.
The leaves of my hidden beets are so pretty, I admired them, (and ate their leafy green tops all winter) longer than I should have. As I finally plucked them from the earth, they emerged as veggies on steroids, at least twice their normal size. Lesson learned. These will be pickling beets – ginger pickled – to be enjoyed for weeks to come.
Heirloom beets with an attitude!
As I made my way to the back fence to check on my grapes, all I could do was gasp. My severe pruning last fall paid off and now the vines are reaching over the fence. The best surprise – teeny, tiny clusters of lime green infant grapes clinging to the tendrils! It was as if they grew a foot overnight. Summer fruits awaits.
I love the delicious green grape leaves that will soon decorate the length of my fence.
It’s time to plant tomatoes and I am in love once again! Thank you my gardening fairy godmother for continuing to keep me dazzled and inspired.
“However many years she lived, Mary always felt that ‘she should never forget that first morning when her garden began to grow’.” ― Frances Hodgson Burnett, The Secret Garden
What does our moon and my garden have in common? A lot it seems due to a recent enlightenment. One of my goals this year is to improve my gardening skills. I’ve been a hit or miss gardener the last couple of years. What I mean is that I plant seeds and seedlings in the spring and winter when I have a free weekend and good weather. Most of my plantings have been successful but a few of my major and much anticipated veggies have been thwarted and delivered less than spectacular results. For instance last year my tomatoes were non-existent and my beets struggled. I could not figure out what had gone wrong except for our excessively hot summer. A recent gift of a calendar that utilizes the moon cycles to determine the best times to plant is my new guide. Did I plant my tomatoes in a “no plant” moon cycle? Here’s how it works.
When a moon is “waxing” or growing, it is signaling a time to plant and grow. A “waning” moon tells us to slow down and let the energy of our garden go underground. This is a time of maintenance and in certain quarters of this waning moon, a time to plant root (underground) vegetables like potatoes, turnips, beets, onions and garlic.
Healthy broccoli. I looked back on when they were planted and the timing was right!
There’s a bit more to this than meets the eye. Each waxing or waning moon has “quarters” to decide in which week to plant or weed. My calendar specifies these days as well as times to fertilize and prune trees. Although, to you nay-sayers, this might seem a bit far-fetched, I urge you to consult with the Farmer’s Almanac which has been around since 1792, and is calculated based on ancient Greek celestial events and weather. The 2015 Farmer’s Almanac coincides with my calendar exactly!
These are the healthiest and most beautiful beet greens I have ever grown. Just had to share.
I’ll chart and post my successes or failures for this year and at the end of 2015 will evaluate the validity of this method of gardening. For now, it just seems like the right thing to do and a lot of fun too!
May your garden grow with abundance!
Love, Mary
P.S. Many garden stores carry moon cycle planting calendars that are specific to your location. The Farmer’s Almanac is also a great resource.
What is it that is so romantic about summer? Is it the long hours of sunlight, its warm breezes persuading us to linger a little longer to drink in the day? Is it the fond memory and sentimentality stirred up of childhood vacations and days out of school spelled “PLAY” all day? Or is it simply a dreamy time of gazing at the setting sun and slowing life down for a while. I decided to share this Midsummer romance by having a summer solstice party.
Nicole and Laurette pick ripe boysenberries to add color and flavor to their favorite cocktail.Berries ended up in wine, champagne Trains and just for fun- to eat!Laurette approves of my newly planted grapes which are producing in spades! I didn’t realize it but they must be champagne grapes. Even better.
The Summer Solstice is always a special day for me. It signifies the longest hours of daylight and the launch of the warm days of summer. I chose to celebrate this day with a gathering of friends for a potluck of favorite summer dishes.
A feast for the gods.Watermelon alla Maria. Recipe to follow.
The response was overwhelming! Creative and complementary dishes were packed like sardines on my dining table, each vying for attention. I couldn’t have planned a better menu!
This front dish was a tangerine-basil pasta and chicken. Bellissimo!Homemade ice cream and gelato topped off the evening. The hit was a fresh black cherry cheesecake flavor. Second place-Vietnamese coffee ice cream with cardamom – silky and taste-tingling!
There were divine recipes I had never tasted, all made with love. I realized what incredible friends I have. I am grateful for this diverse and inspiring group of people who give my life meaning and depth. When in doubt, throw a party. It will set your summer in motion and bring laughter, love and balance back into your life.
My dear girlfriends bonding over good food and wine.Jenn, the mixologist, makes killer “Trains,” a mix of champagne, Saint Germain and sparkling water. Her cocktails were the hit of the evening!It was smiles and laughter all night. My best friends Jenny and Alan truly helped me bring in the summer vibe.
One of the recipes I made and loved was so simple yet delicious. Here it is:
Warm or cold pea soup topped with shredded mint and served with a glass of cold Pinot Grigio. It is delicious with a splash of lemon or herb olive oil!
As I contemplate this story, a wasp hovers in front of my eyes and harmonies of chickadees fill the airwaves in stereo. My garden once again kidnaps my weekend. The whispering warm breeze, swaying palm trees, fluorescent geraniums and darting hummingbirds contribute to a feeling of intoxication in my own personal paradise. A cricket suddenly chimes in to serenade me, adding to this fairy tale.
Dancing color.The Chickadees have invaded and I love it!My faithful companion stands guard and loves the birds.
In this simplistic of moments, I dream of a fresh green pea soup, infused with mint and embellished with crème fraîche. I actually leave my garden writing post to make it and I am back outside with a glass of wine half and hour later!
It is so easy to make either as a starter or main dish. Here’s how to do it with very little dishes – my favorite way!
My secret – a handheld Cuisinart blender.The handheld purees in minutes. Way easier and less clean up than the food processor in my opinion.
The cicoria edible plant, gone to seed, produces these lovely purple flowers. I have not removed them yet as they are so dainty and sweet.
The Ops Twins (see April 2013 “The Beet Goes On”story), goddesses of agriculture, united again to trim, weed and dismember parts of my garden in need of refreshing. This year my niece Maya joined in to help celebrate Mother’s Day and to lend a hand.
A trio of generations gathers to celebrate Mom and our friendships.
I selfishly hang onto over-grown, gone to seed and wilting plants from my winter garden. I love the height and depth of colors the favas, kales and Italian greens grow into. They are a focal point in my yard, always happy with the cooler weather, requiring little attention except for the oohs and ah’s I deliver to them daily. Yes, I play favorites and my winter garden is my favorite child. So, I procrastinate, as long as possible, adding these spent greens to my compost pile.
I dug up this giant Rapa Toscana root. Does anyone know if you can eat this? Speak now or forever hold your peace!
A farmer’s best friend. These worms will keep my soil healthy for the tomatoes.
Something I did yesterday was to uproot the many volunteer tomatoes that have dug themselves into my gravel, and replant them with the other free spirits that sprouted up about two months ago in my strawberry box. It’s my experiment. All my tomatoes this year will be a surprise as to variety. Kind of like not knowing if it’s a boy or a girl.
I fashioned a tepee of old trellises to stake up my volunteer tomatoes. I think it’s awesome!
My box of flowering and consequently bitter greens is now vacant, awaiting another weekend inspiration. What to plant this spring? Most likely grilling veggies, as they seem to be my summer dinner – so simple and fresh.
This Italian cicoria or chicory, is a sculptural work of art and my favorite plant this year. Its elegance dances a tangled tango.
As I clear out and make space for new, I own this change and am re-energized at the prospect of vine-ripe tomatoes, long, skinny, deep purple Japanese eggplant, peppers of all colors, sweet and of fire, and who knows what else?
Feeling the warm dirt caress my fingers, as I dig holes for new seeds and plants, gives me a rush of joy and fills my happy heart with hope for abundance. What foods, ideas or dreams will you plant for yourself this week?
The Buddleia, or butterfly bush, is doing its job, attracting butterflies and hummingbirds galore. Since these guys are short season bloomers, I had to share their heartbeat.
Leave room in your garden for the fairies to dance.
“I came to love my rows, my beans, though so many more than I wanted. They attached me to the earth, and so I got strength like Antæus. But why should I raise them? Only Heaven knows.” Henry David Thoreau
Macchismo Favas.
Hearty Fava beans. Grown for over 6,000 years, its peasant roots are now emerging as a new food trend. Each spring, Italians patiently wait for the grass-green pods to become elongated, filled with thumbnail sized beans. In Puglia last April, I noticed the variety of ways favas were incorporated into so many local dishes, especially when they are in season, which is right now.
Robust favas grown from seeds I purchased in Tuscany. They are producing heavily at the moment and are my garden showstopper. Anyone have an extra pair of hands to help shuck the pods?
In Italy, favas dot pastas, soak up spicy olive oil for a salad, are smashed on top of crostini and pureed for a coulis to cuddle fish or seafood. Their bright green brilliance is appetizing and their taste is even better.
Freshly unzipped and shucked favas. Next they are blanched for 30 seconds, then plunged into an ice bath. The work begins now. I remove the tough outer skin and discard it, revealing the gorgeous green tender morsel inside. 1 pound of whole fava beans equals about 1 cup of shelled beans.
The beans have a soft sweetness that almost melts in your mouth. I had heard of favas before but not attempted to prepare them because of the hype about how time-consuming they were. I assure you, they are well worth the sacrifice of time. You will be rewarded with a new taste, a gorgeous color addition to your recipes and a powerhouse of protein-rich nutrition.
A simple flavorful salad of sliced fresh fennel, favas, minced dill and lemon olive oil or lemon vinaigrette. Decorated with the nasturtiums that are taking over my garden! Refreshing!
A bed of my garden greens, favas tossed with mint and a hint of olive oil, a few mozzarella balls then drizzled with fig balsamic vinegar. Bellissimo!
This just in: While shopping at Trader Joe’s last weekend, the demo featured pasta salad with fava beans, imported from Italy and in the frozen section! Fresh is always best so check your local farmer’s market first.
I’d love to hear from you fava lovers. How do you use them in your favorite dishes?
Contact me for tips on growing favas from seed. They require a mild climate because they are planted in October/November and harvested in late March to April. My story “Garden RX” has photos of the established plants and their height.
For more information on favas, check out this fabulous website:http://www.delallo.com/articles/fava-beans-green-protein
And Spring arose on the garden fair, Â Like the Spirit of Love felt everywhere:Â
And each flower and herb on Earth’s dark breast rose from the dreams of its wintery rest.    Percy Bysshe Shelley
March 20, 2014 at 9:57am PST, the sun will cross the celestial equator traveling from south to north thus ushering in the Spring Equinox, from the Latin words aequus (equal) and nox (night). Welcome Spring! It’s time to celebrate!
Blossoming Clivia grace my yard but for such a short time.
The dawn of spring gently awakens the youth in all of us. There is a connection of light and hope and newness. A chance to push through and move forward as a seed emerges from the earth. Spring’s visual display of determination reveals tiny souls to the world growing into certainty. A metaphor for life.
My hibernating Paradiso Fig finally is leafing!
Spring and the Equinox are two of the most powerful times of the year. A time for rebirth, celebrations, movement and progress.
Delicate budding apple blossoms.
A newly planted Muscat grape vine shows off her healthy, shiny just opened leaves.
At this time of year, I celebrate Mother Nature and her inspiration. She is a display of life and giving everyday. I see hope through the tiny green nubs poking out from frail and barren branches. She shows joy through her vibrant palette of colors dancing across my yard.
My Mom’s apricot tree with buds emerging from a winter’s sleep.
She is a ballerina beginning her dance.
Seedlings appear out of nowhere, like the dense purple lavender and matching Salvia flowers that magically have taken root in random vacant spots. They surprise me with their strength and hardiness. It’s a willingness to continue and not give up.
A bee tickles the lavender, teasing out the sweet nectar.
My garden is singing, the melody of its movement beckons me to notice every new life form. Bees, hummingbirds and worms work synergistically to pollinate and aerate to keep life balanced.
I hope this bee makes some great lavender honey somewhere!
The sweet and equally tart Meyer lemons and juicy, fragrant oranges sharing their abundance with me are the overture for springtime. It’s almost time to think of summer veggies, but for now I will remain in the present, observing the evolution of winter morphing into spring and the realization that life marches forward.
A Reed Avocado in full bloom. I wish for avocados this year!
Each year at this time I write down the dreams and wishes I am planting and hope come to fruition. It can be as simple as anticipating a new bud on my avocado tree making its way to maturity or a more ambitious vision like adventurous travel, abundance in all forms, opportunity, or love. In reviewing my past writings, it amazes me how many of these manifestations have come true. It really is a time to express what you would like to create in your life.
Magenta geraniums that are almost blinding.
“Can words describe the fragrance of the very breath of spring?” Neltje Blanchan
Flourishing favas before the squall that knocked them off their feet.
Last evening I returned home from a stormy (for San Diego standards) day to discover my precious fava beans completely toppled over from the heavy winds. My first reaction was “is there a trauma doctor in the house?!” I have been babying these beans, planting them from seeds and watching them flourish far beyond my expectations.
Fallen angels.
Tiny green fingerling beans are even starting to lengthen and grow from their sweet white flower petals.
This little one is well on its way.
I quickly decided not to give up on them. I would resuscitate them! Delving through my drawers to find something to tie them to the wooden braces already in the beds, I found an ace bandage. Stretchy and soft, I cut it into quarters lengthwise then cut 15 inch pieces. In the rain with darkness closing in, I carefully gathered up sections of the tall stalks and attached them to the posts as gently as possible. By the time I finished, they were again standing tall, although many of their delicate stalks had snapped. When the weather clears, I will add more posts and re-tie the favas to give them more breathing room but for now they are out of the ICU.
Successful surgery. Patients are doing well.
A kiss to make it better.
My Italian garden will survive. The good news is that my chicory, Cimi di Rapa, a kind of Italian broccoli and Rapa Toscana are all healthy, thriving and getting ready for an Italian festa using all these veggies I planted from seeds I purchased in Italy. This is the greatest reward of gardening. Bringing a bit of ciao back home.
Chicory or Cicoria whose celery/fennel stalks are a springtime staple in Italy.
Cima di Rapa, bottom, romaine, left and kale on the right. A salad a day keeps the doctor away!
Garden freshness, just picked and ready for a dinner creation.
Fall is a season of contrasts. Besides the obvious color change of leaves, there is a distinct softness in the air, a kind of fuzzy morning haze, with warm afternoons, cool evenings and if you’re lucky and the skies are clear, a chance of a green flash over the ocean with the setting sun. I love this time to reflect on what has grown, in my life and my garden, and the sweet anticipation of what’s to come.
My garden also is a contrast of various stages of growth. The Angel Pomegranate tree I planted last summer has gifted me five garnet red beauties. It has doubled in size and I imagine will continue to multiply its harvest next year. The Meyer Lemon is heavy with green fruit that is beginning to turn yellow for a most likely January crop. My raised bed gardens are filling up with young plants. I started chicory, kale, lettuce and beets from seeds. It’s so interesting to be able to identify the plants when they are so tiny!
Baby kale just learning its identity.
Romaine lettuce – very assertive.
Although not yet recognizable, these will be transformed into red and golden beets. So lovely.
Fava Beans started from seedlings. The anchor of my Italian garden.
Speaking of Italy, in a few days I embark on another adventure, this time to Tuscany. I’m staying on an agritourisimo (farm) for two weeks and immersing myself into the country lifestyle. This is the beginning of the olive harvest season and I am hoping to learn the craft of making olive oil with my farm family. Tune in for recipes I gather as I meet and cook with the locals and savor the foods of the season. The ancient cultures have so much wisdom to impart. I’ll keep my eyes, ears and heart open to learn from them as well as continue my search for Black Madonnas. Let the journey begin!
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Every person has their own garden. A garden of wishes they hope to grow into fruition. When we are young, we plant many seeds of all the things we hope to accomplish in life. As we age and have watched those seeds become living dreams, some happy and healthy, some are weeds that need to be sorted through and recycled. Some become overgrown and litter our mind. I love to weed. It gives me time to deeply contemplate what needs more attention and what needs less. As I loosen the invaders with my fingers and tug gently to release their roots, it is a form of catharsis for me. It’s like clearing my mind at the same time as cleaning up my yard. I can see things more clearly. The trees, flowers and bushes now can shine and be a focal point, their once tag-along side kicks removed. The mind relaxes; the body aches a bit but feels stronger for it. There is almost nothing I’d rather do on a sunny weekend than trim and prune and weed my yard.I am making it more beautiful and hospitable for the birds and butterflies and bees that call my garden home. How we tend and care for our “gardens” reflect how we live our lives. Infuse a little love in everything you do and watch what happens!!
One of the many hummingbirds that delight in the abundance of Salvia in my yard.
I’d love to step into Op’s shoes, or whatever goddesses wear on their feet. While perusing websites relating to my upcoming trip to Italy, I came upon a dictionary of goddesses. This one caught my attention. Ops, rumored to be married to Saturn, is “an agricultural goddess of abundance personifying the earth’s riches.”*
Ops is the Goddess of the Harvest and Abundance
Today my mom and I were the Ops twins; she cleaning up my raised beds and harvesting beets, Swiss chard, peas and red cabbage and moi; filling holes dug by my dogs, planting a new baby bay laurel tree, staking up my berry vines and eternally weeding.
Finally ready to harvest after 5 1/2 months of TLC.
My Ops Twin – Mom
Giggling and chatting away like two teenagers who just love spending time together, the work energized our souls. The golden warmth of the sun embraced my body, almost magically pulling me closer to the earth. I was the goddess of agriculture if only for a moment. It felt really good.
These brilliant chard stems were too gorgeous not to share.
In honor of my beet harvest, I decided to make something out of my comfort zone. My neighbor, Ione, makes delicious pickled beets. In fact, she is the pickling queen, using vinegar for everything from octopus to fava beans.
Roasted in foil at 400 degrees for about an hour.
I asked for her recipe. Roast, peel, then slice or cube the beets, she replied. Top with balsamic vinegar, a bay leaf and a sprinkling of peppercorns. That’s it! Marinate a few hours or a few days. I marinated one batch with a traditional red balsamic vinegar and one with a white balsamic vinegar from The San Felipe Olive Oil Company who makes thick and delicious vinegars. It has a slight sweetness that I think marries well with the sugar in the beets.
The transition to spring nudges me to do things that I have had on a procrastination list – cleaning out closets, purging my computer of used emails, exercising regularly and last but not least, preparing my raised beds for summer veggies.
A clean slate with which to paint a new picture.
Why are we such creatures of habit when it comes to “spring” cleaning? What prompts us to create space especially this time of year? To me, transition is a form of new creation, a fresh outlook, and in my garden, a literal new viewpoint of colors and textures. My juvenile pomegranate tree has transitioned from a spindle of naked branches to an explosion of vibrant green leaves and sunset buds soon to become my favorite leather skinned fruits.
Summer will tease charming blossoms into autumn fruit.
Such delicate beauty!
The aromatic sweet peas that have lit up two areas of my yard with cotton candy pinks, snow whites and deep velvet purples are slowly saying goodbye, much to my dismay. It’s like a good friend who is going on a long vacation. I know they will be back next year but miss them already.
Each petal has a transitional color.
How much prettier can these pinks get? Everyday I am grateful and amazed. They are glorious!!!!
The last of my lettuce is in my refrigerator, ready to share with friends. I am grateful for such an abundant harvest that kept me fed and healthy for months. As I cleaned up the last of the broccoli, I noticed that my beets are finally ready to be released from their slumber.
New beets so sweet. Don’t forget the green tops which are just as delectable.
Spring revealed! Beautiful fraise, so tiny and fragrant with the scent of French woods.
So, as nature is constantly transitioning, every day, every minute, I am learning to do the same. Little, incremental changes, that mimic nature’s rhythm, help us shift into the new, opening up space for creative forces to take hold. What will you shift today?
Most of you know the three things I love most (besides my dogs!). They are gardening, travel, food and cooking. I’ve decided to pull these passions together to change the flavor of my blog slightly. Because it is creating such joy in my life, I will bring my garden more into focus, sharing with you its beauty and bounty. Its influence on me is changing my life in tiny increments. Each new sprout, flower of budding fruit and even weed give pause for admiration and awe. To be able to harvest, daily if I wish, and eat this freshness of nature, is teaching me to appreciate life’s abundance.
” Let your life lightly dance on the edges of time like dew on the tip of a leaf.” Tagore
Swiss Chard, Lactino Kale & Italian Kale – all cozy cousins!
My seeds of Italian Kale, Lactino Kale and Swiss Chard are presently producing in abundance. Every night, in order to honor their appearance, I come home and must devise a way to cook these bold greens. Here are two recipes I created. They are both delicious, filled with nutrients and gorgeous on the plate.
Stir in the kale and garlic and cook over medium. Kale will wilt slightly but you don’t need to overcook. If the pan seems dry, add about ¼ cup of warm water.
Stir in the fennel and let it heat through.
Serve as a side dish or you could mound it over brown rice – yum.
Drizzle with walnut oil to finish the flavor. A sprinkling of Fleur de Sel would also be nice!
Add some butter to the pan, heat to medium high and when hot, pour in the egg. Rotate the pan, lifting the cooked parts of the eggs to let the uncooked portion run underneath and cook. Put a lid on the pan for 2 minutes to finish cooking.
Unmold the omelet onto a plate. Â Sprinkle with cheese if you like. Pile the kale in the middle, sprinkle the basil on top. Voila! This is really tasty.
Be creative! Add Herbs de Provence to the eggs. Add onions or shallots or green onions. The world is your oyster.
My hope is that you will be inspired to plant, even the tiniest garden or even just a few seeds and see how they influence your life. Planting seeds of goodness – isn’t that what it’s all about?
My baby Meyer Lemon planted last May. Star is her guardian!
When I think of lemons, this folk tune often sings in my head, “Lemon tree very pretty, and the lemon flower is sweet, but the fruit of the poor lemon is impossible to eat.”* The author, of this song, Jose Carlos Burle, must never have tasted a Meyer lemon or he wouldn’t have written this song!
My Mom’s Eureka tree – the Mother Lode!
Lemons are so happy. Their cheery yellow color radiate love, a freshness and an eagerness to be utilized to the fullest. This means the zest AND the fruit. I cannot bear to juice a lemon without first removing its fragrant and flowery rind or zest. For me, this is the flavor, and, hence from which all delicious tartness is born. The Meyer lemon, less acid, more mandarin-scented and thinner-skinned, than its brighter yellow-colored cousins, makes it the perfect flavor for desserts. Its mellow tang shines in vinaigrettes and desserts.
More orange-yellow colored Meyer is in the back and Eureka is in the forefront.
Lemons are as dear to me as chocolate. Their flavor absolutely makes a bold and intense statement. So pucker up!
Here are a few of my favorite ways to celebrate lemon season.
I love the simplicity of this vinaigrette. The lemon gracefully enhances the lettuce leaves. Feel free to embellish it with capers, fresh herbs or olives. I tossed it with warm vegetable ravioli (butternut squash would be good) and was delighted with the taste. Also I can envision this dressing a niçoise salad, or any tuna salad. Feel free to adjust seasonings, amount of lemon juice or oil.
Whisk the lemon juice and zest into the Dijon mustard. Slowly add the oil, whisking constantly until the vinaigrette fuses together. Add salt to taste. Adjust the amount of oil if it is too tangy for your taste.
2 Tbls. finely chopped parsley, basil, dill, mint, etc.
1 tsp. finely chopped shallot or garlic
Instructions
Combine all ingredients. It is easiest accomplished with a food processor.
Spoon butter onto a piece of plastic wrap or waxed paper. Shape the butter into a log and roll it up in the wrap. Freeze until firm. To use, slice off discs and use as added flavor on top of chicken or fish, vegetables, pasta or rice.
I experimented with a few ways to “candy” lemon peel. I must say, it is not as easy as it sounds! My favorite way to create the peel I used for the tarts was to use very thin yellow-only julienne skins, simmered in a sugar syrup, then dipped in sugar. If you would like the recipe, I recommend the one from Epicurious at the bottom of this blog.
In a food processor combine the flour, salt, and powdered sugar. Pulse until blended.
Add the butter. Pulse again just until butter and flour form small peas.
Mix cold water and egg yolk. Add to mixture. If you live in a dry climate or if the weather is very warm, you will probably need the extra 4th tablespoon of water.
Pulse just until combined.
Form into a ball. Wrap in plastic wrap and refrigerate at least an hour to rest the dough.
Roll dough to 1/4” thickness. Depending upon the size of tart mold you are using cut out rounds of dough and place in molds. Refrigerate or freeze.
I prefer these sweet little tart molds. They have such character!
Lemon Filling: (caution! This is an adapted recipe from a French version so don’t be intimidated by the gram measures)
Mix together powdered sugar and lemon juice. Whisk in eggs. Stir in cooled clarified butter.
Cook over low to medium heat for about 20 minutes or until lemon coats the back of a spoon.
Pour into a bowl and cover with plastic wrap. Refrigerate.
210 grams or 1 Âľ cups of powdered sugar
2 lemons juice and zest
5 eggs
3/8 cup clarified butter
Mix together powdered sugar and lemon juice. Whisk in eggs. Stir in cooled clarified butter.
Cook over low to medium heat for about 20 minutes or until lemon coats the back of a spoon.
Pour into a bowl and cover with plastic wrap. Refrigerate.
Zesty lemon just waiting to be savored.
To make the tarts:
Carefully fill the cold tart shells about Âľ full with the lemon filling.
Bake in a 375 degree oven for about 15-20 minutes or until the shells brown and the filling is bubbly.
Le tart citron. Almost too pretty to eat!
Let cool. Filling will “settle” meaning it ends up sinking a bit in the shell. Don’t worry. It will still taste fabulous. Either top with a candied lemon slice or pipe a bit of lemon mousse on top. For the mousse, I just add a little of the lemon crème to whipped cream and fold gently. Pipe mousse on top of the tart and garnish with slivered candied lemon peel, candied violets or mint leaves. I love these tarts for a refreshing springtime dessert or any season for that matter. They are a delightful treat for baby or bridal showers or for an afternoon tea party.
100 things to do with a Meyer Lemon from the LA Times: Hhttp://www.latimes.com/features/la-fo-meyerlemons16jan16,0,5003872.storyere are a few more sites for ideas with Meyer (or any variety of) lemons:
My favorite recipe for candied lemons: http://www.epicurious.com/recipes/food/views/Candied-Lemon-Peels-232352
 A good story on Meyer Lemons from NPR:http://www.npr.org/templates/story/story.php?storyId=100778147
How to make clarified butter from Joy the Baker: http://www.joyofbaking.com/ClarifiedButter.html
Living in southern California has its perks and one of them is being able to grow vegetables and fruits year round. My summer garden produced less than an abundance of tomatoes, probably due to the unusual heat, and the zucchini took over. I much prefer my winter garden that is thriving in the cool weather. Bunches of soft and ruffly butter lettuce flourishing in shades of eggplant and emerald, co-mingling with stately romaine which ranges from soft grassy greens to more pronounced pea greens.
Dense ruffles of Butterhead “Marvel of Four Seasons”
The oak leaf lettuce, their tender fingers of olive fusing to deep wine, is almost hidden underneath the large, sculpted circles of nasturtium leaves.
An umbrella of Nasturtiums pushed aside to reveal delicate and tender Oak Leaf Blend.
At every glance, my eyes engage in the vibrant colors and I am grateful these greens have chosen to share their beauty with me.
Often times I just use salad greens without cooking them. The food heats and wilts the greens and infuses them with the dominant flavor.
Lemon risotto warming two varieties of freshly picked baby “Nero Toscana” kale, “Red Winter” kale and “Ruby Red” swiss chard greens.
Fresh greens topped with winter pears and a drizzle of homemade balsamic glaze. Delectable!
The options are infinite! Be creative. Love the diversity of baby greens and let your imagination run free.
Am I tempting you to plant your own winter garden? It’s not too late! It really is easy. You can even use one large pot if you have limited space. Visit your local nursery or farmer’s market for starters or start seeds in a sunny window indoors before transplanting in outside beds or pots. I’d love to see how your garden grows. Please share yours with me!
