What Does Love Want

We joined the unnamed university’s farm share program this year. The fee was like a giant blue iceberg floating downstream in my checking account, tearing Buick-size holes in my meager budget and drowning the helpless monthly expenses trapped in steerage. This tragedy turns to triumph – if you can call a constant feeling of narrow escape and panic at the sound of running water triumphant – when we eat or preserve every bite of our share – or it will be. I’ll let you know if that happens. This is good for our diets and good for my brain, but this is work.

The camera adds 10 lbs. to a light dinner.

Three weeks ago, the share included 12 enormous squash. I was unprepared to deal with 12 squash of several varieties and sort of fell face-first into my cookbooks. Did you know that people jar different kinds of squash? They do. Did you know our government discourages home canners from home canning squash? It does. So I ignored the government, jarred zucchini with tomatoes and gave away several pile of squash. Siobhan made purees. Anya and Corinne wielded summer squashes like clubs. Trout’s boyfriend thought the bag of squash hooked on the doorknob was a bomb. Pete asked what I wanted for dinner tonight and I said, “Surprise me with squash soup.”

Pete’s Squash Soup

2 12″ yellow summer squash, peeled and seeded
1 garlic clove, chopped
1 medium onion, diced
corn from 2 raw ears
1 medium hot pepper, seeded and diced
24 oz. chicken stock
olive oil
herbes de Provence
basil
salt & pepper
generous dollops of plain yogurt

Heat soup pot, sweat vegetables in olive oil. Add chicken stock, bring to a boil, reduce to simmer and cook until squash is tender. Puree! Season with herbs to your taste, add dollops of yogurt and serve with homemade whole wheat bread, butter and your homemade apple butter. Dude, freeze some for winter and write Pete a fan letter. He will not reject you!

My favorite summer breakfast is Pete's kryptonite.

A zillion years ago, we were all broke and a housemate turned me on to refrigerator pickles. I’d make a batch and when the cucumbers ran out, the brine was still fine so all I had to do was peel and slice cucumbers and onions and toss them in. The next morning, the pickles were ready again. Two pieces of wheat toast, some cream cheese and that was breakfast. For years, I kept a quart container in the fridge all summer. A couple of years ago, the recipe suddenly left my brain. I’d make up a brine and the pickles would turn out salty. Frankly, I was perturbed. I had to find the former housemate and on Friday, I did.

Tata: You know how I’ve been whining that my pickles kept turning out salty?
Siobhan: You’ve been remarkably tedious on this point, yes.
Tata: Yeah, that’s especially funny since there’s no salt in the recipe.

It’s refreshing, filling, delicious and cheap. You should eat this.

2 responses to “What Does Love Want

  1. I wish you had a farmer’s market as good as the one here in Minneapolis. I paid five dollars for more than six and a half pounds of green zucchini yesterday at the farmer’s market, a buck for a huge bunch of basil that will become a pesto sauce tonight and get poured over goat cheese tortellini, three dollars for four enormous green bell peppers, and two dollars for three heads of garlic that is exceptionally fresh (not like that dried out stuff in the supermarkets).

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