I had no idea what to expect when I was doing this. I think I had 5 of these particular plants and they had the blight (the other potatoes did not have it). So against my better judgment I cut them off as the google instructs and waited the requisite 2 weeks.
OMG!! This was as gratifying as it was easy. It turns out that Ann White was right about something for a change.
Tomato. Just the one. This is an aberation, my sister gave me this plant, a red zebra, for my birthday and it’s the only plant in my garden that looks like it’s going to produce anything. And there won’t be another red tomato for weeks it appears to me.
The tomato, like all first tomatoes, as well as first pancakes and waffles, was not-so-much. But it was something anyway and I was thrilled to have it.
Giant beans. Greek beans. I’m sure everyone remembers when I had the giant beans at the Greek restaurant in Frankfurt. I didn’t either until I was scrolling through some recipe by my friend Akis and I saw this recipe and was immediately reminded of their fabulousness. Strangely this coincided with an invitation to a friend’s for dinner, a sort of pot luck, and our hostess is Greek. So, bang, Greek beans.
Akis is a YouTube chef and I like what he does. Everything he makes is the easiest, the best and the sexiest, (his words not mine) and I do like his food, and Greek food in general. This recipe though was way too complicated I thought. These beans should be very simple and the recipe is very complicated. I added the lemon zest he calls for against my better judgment and I should have listened to my better judgment. It didn’t add “brightness” it added sourness.
Nonetheless, I arrived at the party and my hostess took the beans from me and when dinner rolled around she refused to put them out saying she was keeping them for herself. Aside from tasting them when I made them, I didn’t get to eat them. Still, I was flattered, I guess.
I had one of my book clubs (you’d think I was constantly reading but I am not) and I was to bring “finger food.” Since I had pastry dough leftover from my 4th of July pie, empanadas or something like them came to mind. A couple cans of mushrooms, some caramelized onions and shredded cheese and boom! empanadas.
They were pretty good considering, well, canned mushrooms and leftover dough.
You know when you buy something simply because you like the jar? Probably you don’t. But I certainly do. I needed salsa and saw my go-to brand but this handsome bottle flashed before my eyes and since, like a crow, I am attracted to shiny objects, I bought it.
The salsa wasn’t half bad and now I have a new bottle for some damn thing or other.
I have fond memories of this pie even though somehow I am unable to adequately reproduce it. My eldest grandniece was just old enough to be enthusiastically begging me for more the first time I made it and I cherish a sweet memory of her pleading with her mother for another piece with me gleefully telling my niece ‘yes, yes of course you can have more’ while her mother gave me the evil eye.
My punishment is that I have been unable to recreate it despite following the recipe exactly. The batter or filling or binder or whatever it is, just does not coalesce. It looked fine when it was baked and it tasted delicious but remained liquid-y when I sliced it. I solved that by putting a dollop of strawberry ice cream on each piece so no one really knew what the hell they were eating.