Finding Peace

I had a nasty thing happen at work today.

It angered me, then upset me, then kicked me when I was down. My only hope this afternoon was finding a peaceful state where I could be distracted enough to forget about it and then content enough not to care. And when days are warm and evenings are dark and cool, or on days like today when I want to get in my car and drive away from it all, I find peace here:

Peace like the last salsa of the season...

(um, remind me in a future post to share my dad's famous salsa recipe which will kick your ass, it's so good)



Peace like enough to share with good friends!



Peace like sorting dry heirloom beans,



that will simmer on your stove for dinner



Peace like heaps of tortillas and avocado that go perfectly with the beans and salsa you just made.



Peace in beer.



No, wait, even better--peace in familiar beer, when you know what the first swig will feel like.




Peace like when you make oatmeal coconut almond cookies or breakfast rice pudding...




...and then your whole house smells sweet and cozy.



Peace like curling up with a kitty!




Peace like sitting still long enough to work on a new silk winter pullover.

Peace in crime drama tv shows that make me yell at the television.

And the ultimate reward:


Man that hits the spot.


And maybe, just maybe, peace will be enough to make you go back to work and face it all tomorrow.

Flashback

When I was a kid accompanying my mom on grocery shopping trips, I would make a beeline for the produce section, grab a bunch of scallions, press the cold white ends up to my nose and sniff. Luckily, my mom usually purchased scallions, so it's not like I was sticking them up my nose and then putting them back. Stay with me, this story leads to something appetizing, I promise...I just have this specific memory attached to scallions and their mild warm oniony smell. So you can imagine my delight when my friend and fellow garden enthusiast Albert Kuo told me that if you stick green onions in the earth they will grow and you can cut them like chives. Um, how did I not know about this brilliant scheme sooner?

Which brings me to another childhood legend:
Grandma Evelyn's macaroni salad.
That's right, boofs, you know what I'm talkin' about.

Man, it was so simple, so classic. So not the gloppy elmer's glue concoction that passes in grocery stores for macaroni salad. I'm making this batch with really bright flavors--scallion, celery, red jalapeno...

...chives, of course, 'cause they go in everything.

Childhood me was too busy scarfing it with beans and vignadiles at family picnics to notice how she dressed it so I'm going with salt, pepper, a little oil, vinegar, scant spoon of mayo...



Just like Grandma used to make! When I was invited to my friend's annual pumpkin carving party and bbq, there was only one side dish that would do. How good will this be later with grilled chicken and cold beer? I mean, who could resist?

Early Fall Harvest

Northern California (at least the SF area) has a weird growing season compared to the rest of the nation. Summers are cold, September and October are hot, and we can have gardens all winter. Basically, as with politics and everything else, we make our own rules. But enough talk. I'm on the verge of yanking up my summer garden and putting in plants for winter. Thus I'm eating up everything left out there:

I had great success with Japanese eggplant and cucumbers...limited success with tomatoes, cherry or otherwise. What's in this colander was everything I got this summer. Believe me, I am going to savor every last bite, so help me. My mom & sister came over for lunch and we broiled slices of those little eggplants to go in roast chicken gyros. YUM.

And then there are my jalapeno plants. This was kind of an experiment because I've never successfully grown peppers before. These plants LOVE my new place--I can't pick the peppers fast enough.

My theory? These plants (and the eggplants too) really benefited from being planted with my new favorite thing ever, African blue basil. Unlike other basils, it's an annual, so you leave the blue blossoms on instead of furiously pinching them off. Flavor wise, it's a little sharper than the Italian sweet basil most are used to. It's closer in flavor to a spicy Thai basil. But best of all, honeybees go bananas for the flowers on this plant--every time I went out to the garden it was a bee party, I swear. And if honeybees come for the basil, maybe they'll stay for a taste of everything else and pollinate my whole garden.


So, what do you do with the jalapeno plant that keeps on giving? Um, what don't you do! Apparently jalapeno goes with everything.

Salsa fresca.
Mexican rice.
Whole beans.
Scrambled egg with goat cheese.
Asian-style sauteed eggplant.
Veggie chili.
Tortilla soup.
Give them away to fellow spicy food enthusiasts.
Have your dad throw them on the grill. Or shoot, grill 'em yourself. I just happen to have a dad who loves hot food and grilling things.