“Do you also hurry, half-dressed and barefoot, into the garden,
and softly,
and exclaiming of their dearness,
fill your arms with the white and pink flowers,
with their honeyed heaviness, their lush trembling,
their eagerness
to be wild and perfect for a moment, before they are
nothing, forever?”
— From “Peonies” by Mary Oliver
Via The Improvised Life:
“Food that is made with love is good. Food that is not made with love is not good.”
— Maurizio Negrini, third generation baker
“artisan baker” from Una Morera on Vimeo.
It rained for almost an entire week. As soon as the sun arrived, we were out in the garden catching up on planting seeds, transplanting seedlings, potting up container plants, and harvesting a bevy of greens. Here’s the second planting of radishes, cheerfully pushing themselves up out of the ground.
We lost some of the basil — what the cold didn’t kill off was damaged by the week’s damp conditions. We found these replacement seedlings at the farmers’ market, and hope they’ll soon catch up.
This gathering of salad greens included tatsoi thinnings.
Asparagus nestled alongside French Breakfast radishes — we’re averaging a handful of asparagus every other day.
A bouquet of cooking greens — spring raab, chard and kales.
This Spring Raab from High Mowing Seeds is another cime di rapa, or broccoli raab, and seems more bolt resistant than the Quarantina planted alongside. This is the first time we’ve been able to get some well-developed flowering heads.
The season’s first harvest of Rainbow Mix Chard will go into Ricotta Gnocchi.
The Red Russian and Siberian kales are now producing steadily. We keep a container of kale salad in the fridge to add to sandwiches, quesadillas, and grain salads.
Seeing Fun Jen grown by Daphne’s Harvest Monday crew convinced us to try it this year. Next to the arugula, it’s been our favorite thing to snack on in the garden — a crispy, crunchy texture with a sweet bite. We look to it to provide salad greens into the heat of summer. What’s your favorite way to use it?
We’ve no shortage of greens, but made a trip to the Gateway Farmers’ Market in York this weekend to supplement what’s in the garden: beets and tomatoes from Riverside Farm; field strawberries from River Lily Farm; cilantro from Moondance Farm; and tucked underneath it all, fresh pasta from Valicenti Organico.
A version of this post also appears at Seacoast Eat Local.
Among our dwindling freezer stores are jars of roasted cherry tomatoes saved just for this moment in time. We’re still between seasons as far as growing goes, and remain dependent on stocks of food put up the previous year. While this recipe for Spaghetti al Pesto Trapanese calls for ripe tomatoes, substituting a jar or two of roasted cherry tomatoes, now defrosted, satisfies our cravings for something fresh and bright. Timed to coincide with the basil now getting established in the garden, a couple of just-plucked leaves coax the tomatoes into showing off their juicy best.
Do remember to try this recipe again once we’re in the heat of summer, and the tomatoes are in their abundant glory. Simply pile the ingredients in a blender or food processor, where a few turns will reduce it all into an uncooked sauce, and toss with some just-cooked spaghetti. Consider dinner made, relax and toast the day as the light fades into evening.
This is a reprise of this recipe, requested by many at last Sunday’s potluck dinner. When using frozen roasted cherry tomatoes, substitute a pint jar (a little less than 2 cups) of them in place of the fresh. Recipes for the other two pestos from the dinner are also available: Walnut Sage Pesto, Garlic Scape Pesto. As for the name, it refers to Trapani, a city in Sicily, a region also known for its almonds.
Spaghetti al Pesto Trapanese
¾ to 1 pound (about 2½ cups) ripe cherry tomatoes, rinsed and pat dry
12 large fresh basil leaves, rinsed and pat dry
1 large garlic clove, crushed and peeled
⅓ cup whole almonds, lightly toasted
¼ teaspoon red chili flakes, or to taste
½ teaspoon sea salt
½ cup extra virgin olive oil
1 pound spaghetti
½ cup grated Parmesan
– Using a blender or food processor, add tomatoes, basil, garlic clove, almonds, chili flakes and salt. Blend for a minute or more, until finely pureed. Scrape down bowl and blend again if any large bits remain.
– With machine running, pour in olive oil in a steady stream, emulsifying puree into a thick pesto. Taste and adjust seasonings. If using within a couple of hours, leave pesto at room temperature. Otherwise, pesto can be refrigerated 2 to 3 days; let it return to room temperature before cooking the pasta.
– Place pesto in serving bowl. Cook pasta in salted, boiling water until al dente or just done. Drain pasta and add to serving bowl containing pesto. Toss quickly to coat pasta with tomato pesto. Add grated parmesan and toss again. Serve immediately while still warm.
Recipe adapted from “Lidia’s Italy” by Lidia Bastianich.
Local ingredients: Cherry tomatoes, basil and garlic from the garden.
Thanks to all who joined us for “Pasta by Hand: A Lesson in Slow Food” last Sunday, hosted by Slow Food Seacoast. We began by making the dough, mixing semolina flour and water, using the “fontana” or fountain method (above).
Once the dough was kneaded and the wine opened, the class was ready to move onto forming it into the different pasta shapes. We started with cappelletti mesicani, or Mexican hats or sombreros. Our friend, John, has renamed this unusual shape after Pinocchio, making for a more fitting description.
Next, we made cavatelli, or little shells. Depending on the hand of the pasta maker, it can be thick or thin, short or long…
…or even ridged, much like gnocchi. These look ready for a sumptuous sauce.
Lastly, we tackled orecchiette, or little ears. The class mastered these, as well as the other shapes, with ease.
In all, it was a perfect way to spend a rainy afternoon. To complete the lesson, we ended the day with a pasta banquet shared among new friends and old.
“We will come to see that preserving a food tradition, renewing a rare breed, and even just sharing a meal together can all be profound political acts — and that, in the end, good protest can start with a pot of good pasta.”
— Josh Viertel, Slow Food USA
Many thanks to John Forti for sharing his photographs with us. To see more from the day, visit Slow Food Seacoast on Facebook.
A Nor’easter has blown in, ripping the leaves right off the trees.
It came in Saturday, continued on through Sunday, and doesn’t look to ease up for another couple of days.
After which, there’s sure to be a mess of soggy debris to contend with.
We didn’t know what to expect when we checked on the vegetable garden, but things look like they’re hanging in there.
Including the newly transplanted tomatoes — still standing, if a little disheveled.
Three inches of rain recorded for Saturday and Sunday, and another two since then.
It’s much too wet out to linger — a quick harvest of asparagus, green onions and garlic chives to make dinner with, and some rhubarb stalks for a batch of scones.
Diary of a Tomato 