I must admit that there is a part of me who longs for the simplicity of living off the earthly fruits earned through painstaking labor. I get this from my father, a meticulous gardener who beat out all of the old aunties with his prized scorching hot peppers. He is a magisterial man who would never throw a good fish back into the sea. Once, he gave me a three-foot bass that he fished out of Narragansett Bay. Ruefully, I accepted this gift, knowing I would have no place to store a fish of this size. At the time my friend was living in a vegetarian co-op. I convinced him to let me store it in their extra fridge, with the intention of inviting the whole neighborhood over for a fish fry. Well, I lost my nerve. The poor fish remained there until the vegetarians discovered it one day and got pissed, threatening homelessness upon my loyal friend. Oh well, sweet dreams are made of these.
While I plan out my adulthood garden in my mind, I have my weekly farm share as my muse.
I opened my box up today to discover a beautiful arrangement deserving of a moment in time before I chop and shred and eat it to pieces. Already in the two weeks since I've had it I've tried two new vegetables I've never eaten-kohlrabi and broccoli rabe.
Last week I whipped up this quiche with organic spinach, pancetta, and mozzarella cheese.
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