For levity, food

What a week. What a sad, troubling week. America, there is work to be done. 

I'm tired and soon to bed, but y'all, I cannot even handle the beauty and flavor of summer produce. It just doesn't get better than this. And my garden this year? In a yard that actually receives all-day sun? Well, it's a winning combo.

Every day I pick handfuls of fresh tomatoes and herbs and yesterday plucked some zucchini blossoms and a dainty eggplant for a grilled pizza. 

Little makes me feel as warm and full as eating tomatoes still warm from the sun. This salad that I made up last summer is a great way to use some -and also summer peaches- and is as good as I remembered. 

Who said okra? My okra plants are thriving but are not yet ready to feed me the amount I want, so I supplemented today with these beauties. I cannot even talk about how much I love smothered okra nor about just how much of it I can eat at any one sitting. #havemercy #watchout 

I might eat your face if it were in this pot!

bacon + okra = win

And then there's this guy, just livin' the life.

I hope you're well. Remember, it is so tremendous to read, educate ourselves, and use our voices to stand up for what's right. Have a good conversation, challenge a friend or colleague, hold others in the light!

Okra, plums, ricotta, bacon, wild children

The boys and I returned to the Dupont farmers market yesterday for the first time in way too long. I don't think I've ever missed so many summer Sundays there. They sampled everything and enjoyed a Pleasant Pops fix while I ate three, hot-off-the-press market tacos from Chaia. These were, and always are, spectacular; an amazing, satisfying breakfast to be sure.

the market taco trio from Chaia: carrots, mushrooms, okra/corn

We returned home laden with bags: Italian plums; okra; tomatillos; tomatoes; rhubarb; and extra popsicles for the freezer. Last night, to top some steaks, I made a roasted tomatillo, sweet pepper and habanero salsa, and today, I've stewed up ricotta and smothered okra and will soon make a plum tart.

Isn't everything gorgeous?

Italian prune and president plums

smothered okra

This morning, Ol returned home from a terrific slumber party in typical fashion: wild-eyed, over-tired, Tasmanian devil'ish. He and Jack proceeded to beat the tar out of each other for hours on end -happily for the most part- before crashing at 3pm. It will be so great for them to get back to school and a routine. I'm looking forward to it too.

Baseball season picked up again today, and Jack looked so handsome in his new white pants: he's a twig of epic proportion, and I adore him. He and Tom's dad are flying to Colorado tomorrow for a hiking trip up Mt. Ebert, "the tallest 14er" as I've just learned. 

Off to eat. Hope you are all well and enjoying this last day of August.

huh?

Caramelized fennel, leek and orange; the farro again; jury duty

Friends, I do not want to go to jury duty tomorrow. I simply don't. I love to vote, am committed to community involvement and so forth and so on, but jury duty does not float my boat. In the least. Ah well. I did a great deal of cooking today which was a lovely way to spend much of Monday: smothered okra for lunch; caramelized fennel, leek and orange; the fab farro salad again... I also seem to have the dessert-craving tapeworm again so sprung for a jelly-filled, powdered-sugar-dusted beignet at Whole Foods, the best of their bakery goods (in the context of those that are good because many are not). It was, as always, fantastic.

Nanny and Mom often made smothered okra when I was growing up. I am an enormous, enthusiastic fan of okra except in gumbo where I truly believe it has no place. #honesty

Anyway, smothered okra is one of those crazy-simple, crazy-good comforting home foods that makes me happy. I hadn't thought about it in ages, but when I took the boys to Louisiana in August, Mom had just made a huge batch with a bushel of Louisiana longhorn okra some friends had grown and given her. I swear I ate 90% of the batch and have been craving more ever since.

Today at the market, I saw some decent okra. At $6 a pound I didn't get more than would feed me, but it made such a sublime lunch. I sat in silence, on a stool at my counter, breathing in the scent of long- and slowly-cooked okra in bacon fat. I wondered why on earth I gave up bacon for so long. I marveled anew at how good something with two ingredients -three if you count salt- can be. And I thought of home.