Relishings

IN MY BIG BACKYARD : : Hurricane Changes

We are battening down the hatches preparing for some weather. Shoring up the windows and our hearts in anticipation for big changes.

Stay safe dear readers and happy weekend. 

Problems with Hurricanes
by Victor Hernández Cruz
A campesino looked at the air And told me: With hurricanes it's not the wind or the noise or the water. I'll tell you he said: it's the mangoes, avocados Green plantains and bananas flying into town like projectiles. How would your family feel if they had to tell The generations that you got killed by a flying Banana. Death by drowning has honor If the wind picked you up and slammed you Against a mountain boulder This would not carry shame But to suffer a mango smashing Your skull or a plantain hitting your Temple at 70 miles per hour is the ultimate disgrace. The campesino takes off his hat— As a sign of respect toward the fury of the wind And says: Don't worry about the noise Don't worry about the water Don't worry about the wind— If you are going out beware of mangoes And all such beautiful sweet things.

 

IN MY BIG BACKYARD : : Summer Yellow

Saving up these fine warm shades for January reflections.

 

IN MY KITCHEN : : Grow. Cook. Eat. Come. Go...

Last night our lives were filled with talk of visas and peaches.

Welcome home and farewell dinners punctuated packing and canning. I forgo weeding for the taste of fresh picked melon. If I worry what it looks like I will miss the sweetness. I am thankful for the garden that grounds me, otherwise I would be at the mercy of short choppy sentences. 

There is a change in the air so thick it lights up the sky. 

 

Peach BBQ Sauce from My Father's Daughter

Melon Cucumber Salsa

• ½ melon
• 1 cucumber
• 1 small onion
• 1 small Serrano chile 
• 1 tsp. fresh ginger, chopped
• 1 tbs fresh mint or cilantro – of combination of the two
• 1 lime juiced
• Salt and pepper to taste

 

1. Peel melon and cut into a fine dice. If large cucumbers with tough skins peel cucumbers. Scoop out the seeds. Chop fine. Dice the onion, chile pepper and herbs.

2. Mix melon, onion, cucumber, chile pepper, ginger and herbs together. Season with lime juice, salt and pepper.

 

Peach Crumble

For the Filling

• 3 pounds peaches, halved, pitted, and cut into 1/2-inch slices (8 cups)
• Juice of a lemon

• For The Crumble:

  • 1/3 cup packed light-brown sugar
  • 1/3 cup all-purpose flour (spooned and leveled)
  • 1/3 cup old-fashioned rolled oats
  • 6 tablespoons (3/4 stick) cold unsalted butter, cut into small pieces

Directions

1. Preheat oven to 375. Make filling: In a large bowl, toss together peaches and juice of one lemon. Make crumble: In a small bowl, combine brown sugar, flour, and oats; using your hands, work in butter until large clumps form.

2. Transfer peach filling to pie plate, then sprinkle crumble evenly over top. Place crumble on a rimmed baking sheet and bake until juices are bubbling and topping is golden, 1 hour to 1 hour 15 minutes. Let cool on a wire rack 1 1/2 hours before serving.

We are spinning toward September like a burst of cattail seeds in an afternoon breeze.

 

 

IN My Big Backyard : : Our local neighborhood restaurant

Happy Weekend all! 

IN My Garden : : August! Keeping up and putting up

 

My August garden is WILD. Screaming with life. After a week on the high seas and a week of rain it has been a while since I have had a full day of tending and I daresay it shows. 

But as Deb Soule, herbalist and wise woman once told me, "weeds are great for pollinators"; sage advice that I have run with over the years. Lots of bees and such in the garden right now, and I am loving the way the goldfinches go right for the sunflowers cutting out the middle man.

And what is growing out there despite my recent benign neglect?

It has been an epic year for onions, greens, carrots, and zuchinni (although I grow many varieties zucchetta rampicante trombonino is my favorite-it really does taste Italian!)

We've had bumper crops of wild blackberries, basil, cucumbers, and tomatillos...jam, pesto, pickles, and salsa verde! 

 

Cabbage, tomatoes, peppers, corn, and...peaches are just coming into their own.

And still we plant while all the lovely ladies wear flowers in their hair!

It is hard to keep up with all the harvesting, but with only a couple more months left before the frost comes, keeping up is my middle name. Where has the summer gone?

 

 

 

 

IN MY BIG BACKYARD : : Summer cruising - leg two

 

I have a secret.

The second leg of the cruise was just Walter and I. Alone together. And I would be holding back if I didn't tell you that there was an ounce of sadness in this sail. But there was also a tenderness there. It had been too long since I really listened to the beauty in my husband's guitar and voice. It shocked me some. It was healing. We tossed around a ten year plan. We cut down the safety netting. We laughed a lot. There was freedom reborn. 

Day Five : Rockport Harbor

Where we rowed in for oysters and a fancy drink (ginger infused vodka with lemon rosemary syrup) and thus the nasty tides that make the harbor roll were oblivious to us until the early morning. 

Day Six: North Haven the other side

When we are cruising there is always a day that I want to jump ship. Leave. Pea soup fog, rain, lightening, big swells, diesel, I am miserable, happy neither up or down. It is like morning sickness all over again. I curse the day I met my husband who is in his element. Never EVER again. And I am not proud of my state, me raised by the sea tough New Englander, but it is undeniable. 

I surrender. I surrender all of it to the fore berth in a fetal position. I just let my body roll with the waves until it is over. 

And when it was over, I climb on deck and pick up the mooring because it was time. We rowed to shore to one of the best meals I have had all summer at the Nebo Lodge and slept in a snug harbor on flat water.

Stonington, Deer Isle

When we are cruising there is always a day when every penny pinched, every weekend painting, every moment spent messing with the electrical wires or the engine dissolves into a great big grin. It is good when these days come at the end of the week. 

We are hitting 7 knots in a warm wind going down Eggemoggin Reach and Walter is laughing out loud. I love everything: the sun, the seals, the owners who do not develop their island gems, the blue sea, empty beaches, but especially I love my husband's joy. I want to tell everyone to come here now.

Day Seven: Buck's Harbor (of One Morning In Maine fame). Still no shower.

We pull up the mooring at 7:30 as the sun is beginning to go down, pretty boats galore. It was a very good day. 

Day Eight: An island off Deer Isle. No power, but dear friends, good food, and fireworks. Always a sanctuary. 

The perfect ending, now home.

 

 

IN MY BIG BACKYARD : : Summer cruising - leg one

I awoke this morning to the sound of swimming in the pond. No fog horns, a dog on my feet, a bed. We are back on the hard after a week at sea. It is good to be home. Really. I do feel the serious grown up month of September closing in, but for now I am excited for a shower. 

The cabin floor is a mess, the head is always an event, we never got to varnish the toe rails this spring, but she has beautiful lines. At some point you just have to say "good enough" and get out of the backyard. 

Day one : Christmas Cove, South Bristol

Day two: Port Clyde

Henry rowed all the way in for breakfast muffins. Sold out. 

Day Three: North Haven

Daily cold water plunge. Smores. 

Day Four: Rockland

Arriving just in time for the Lobster Festival. Grand culture shock.

Tune in tomorrow for the second leg of the journey, sponsored by Dramamine.

IN MY KITCHEN : : A Rainy Sunday

~~ Sweet and Savory Zuchinni Bread on Kaitlyn Duggan's Pottery

~~ Granola from Heidi Swanson's Super Natural Everyday

~~ Yogurt Recipe from Soulemama

~~ Dilly Beans from my new favorite canning recipe source, Canning For A New Generation by Liana Krissoff

I am packing up for a little vacation. I will see you back here in a week or so with tall tales of the high seas. Enjoy the summer bounty! Love, Wendy

IN MY KITCHEN : : A Little bit of India and beyond

 

 

I have recently been labeled a "power user" at my local library. Although I wear this badge with pride, there are some books that I would just as soon keep, thank you very much. At Home with Madhur Jaffrey is one of those books. Easy, fresh, delicious food that is a perfect match for my garden this time of year. I am prying my fingers off this gem of a cookbook as we speak (it's more than a little overdue!). Enjoy. 

 

 

Cucumber Salad, North Indian Style

• 3 cups cucumbers sliced
• 1/4 teaspoon salt
• freshly ground pepper
• 1/4 teaspoon ground cayenne pepper
• 1-2 teaspoons fresh lemon juice
• 8-10 fresh mint leaves chopped

Toss ingredients and adjust seasonings as needed.

Peach Salad

• 2 ripe peaches, peeled, pitted, and cut into about 10 slices each
• 1/4 teaspoons salt
• freshly round pepper
• 1/2 teaspoon ground roasted cumin seeds
• 1/8 teaspoon cayenne pepper
• 2 teaspoons sugar
• 2 teaspoons lemon juice
• 2 teaspoons finely chopped cilantro

Just before eating, put all ingredients into a bowl and toss

Serve with Tandoori Chicken or Salmon

Happy Weekend all! 

 

 

 

 

IN MY GARDEN: : Snow, bee balm, and artichokes

  

 I have found myself with a few days alone. It doesn't happen often and I am not completely alone, but enough that I can touch the quiet and hear the space. No one is waiting for me. It is special time, not to be wasted. I have clothes to cut and sew, foods to can, vegetables to plant, work to do, yoga, reading. I make lists, lots of lists. 

 

 

I go out to the garden which I have been avoiding since yesterday when the hail came. A snow pile in August that arrived amidst an 80 degree afternoon and some clouds. Cra-zy. The fig tree has toppled but can be saved. A zucchini bush has collapsed (I am secretly pleased). The rest is just wildness. The bee balm is softly buzzing. The artichokes are a miracle. I check for the alien and dreaded Tomato Hornworm. No one is waiting. 

I know where the first blackberries ripen down the hill by the pond and find myself there with a handful. No one is waiting. The field is freshly mowed, there is a breeze, the path has soft moss. I wander. 

In the clearing the old apple tree has lots of fruit after a hard spring prune. The graft we made has taken well. I understand how children get lost in the woods. No mushrooms, but so many birds. I follow them. A birch has fallen, a pine is charred. 

Up through the field I end up back in the garden. The sky has darkened. I have left the door wide open. No one is waiting. For me.