pirates, peach pizza, and pickles

how to start a saturday:

#1 wake up naturally, sans alarm--always a good thing!

#2 savor a Caffe Trieste cappuccino

#3 slowly stroll to the ferry building

#4 rest on an old railroad tie and nibble on a Frog Hollow petite pizza (peach, ricotta, and bacon) while watching the Jug Town Pirates do their thing

#5 go home with a mound of sweet Rainier cherries, two stems of lemon verbena (not sure what I'm doing with these yet--any suggestions?), and homemade pickle ingredients (mixed bunch of carrots, Armenian cucumbers, and a big fat beautiful red onion)

sweet & simple cucumber recipe from mom

once i ran out and purchased the ingredients, i was able to quickly and easily prepare this recipe and mom was correct, i couldn't stop eating it - yum!

excerpt from an email from my mom:

My favorite way to eat them now is sliced into a pretty Chinese bowl with a bit of thinly sliced scallion, a tablespoon or more of rice wine vinegar (the seasoned one because it is sweet and salty), a drop or two of toasted sesame oil, a sprinkling of black and white sesame seeds, and a few grinds of black pepper. So delicious... You can't stop eating it.

cool as a cucumber

my first homegrown cucumber was cool, crisp, sweet, and oh-so-attractive (see above). this cucumber traveled a long hard road before making it to my cutting board today. at times i wasn't sure my sad little plants would ever bear fruit. the first problem was the pair of blue jays that would swoop down onto the bed and try to take the little seedlings away with them. chris and i fixed that problem with some bamboo, twine, and a little bird netting. but there were more bumps in the road...the seedlings were refusing to grow up, they were so very small for what seemed an eternity, then they looked a bit yellow, then a bit limp. i remained patient and optimistic as i watered them regularly, added some more compost around the base of the plants, and crossed my fingers. the cucumber vines are now bright green and sprawling. and today, hiding beneath some of those bright green (and prickly) leaves, i uncovered this little gem - fantasic!

when i recall the backyard vegetable garden of my childhood i think of our little cucumbers and the pickles my mom made with them. i'll definitely follow in mom's footsteps and be experimenting with some cucumber pickles of my own, but i must wait until i have more than one small cucumber. my time will come, soon i'm sure.

the cucumber is one of my favorite vegetables. it's VERY versatile, eaten in many cultures, and it tastes great without any prep - just slice and eat...done. i have always thought of the cucumber as a vegetable, but since it has an enclosed seed and develops from a flower, it is technically a fruit. as i understand, the term "vegetable" is not scientific and the usage of the word is subjective, so, for now, i'll continue to think of these green little guys as veggies.

i'll leave you with a lovely poem that i found today. it was written by a girl named Alysha. it seems there was a poetry competition and the children were asked to write a poem about a vegetable. Alysha, who must also think of the cucumber as a veggie, responded with this poem. you can read more vegetable poems writtem by children here:
poetry zone

Cool Cucumber
by Alysha Bhatti (aged 8)

Cucumber with noodles
Pizza or rice.
Even on its own
Cucumber tastes nice.

Cucumber in chutney
With yogurt and spice
Diced or grated
Or in a slice.

Cucumber with prawn
Cucumber with fish
Cucumber is the king
Of every salad dish.

Cucumber for hunger,
Cucumber for thirst
In this competition
Cucumber comes first.

but i thought you loved my dirty roots...

As I looked at my meticulously groomed carrots resting in their sterilized pint Ball jar, anticipating the day they'd become pickles, I paused to consider what I'd been up to all afternoon. If my favorite root vegetables are those freshly pulled from their beds and covered with dirt, why was I spending my entire afternoon scrubbing, peeling, and trimming one bunch of Peter Martinelli's carrots to create a single jar of pickled carrots? Why didn't I just skip the prep work and drizzle the carrots with olive oil and roast them or simply rinse them off and eat them fresh and unadorned?

Instead I found the preparation of this sole jar of pickled carrots profoundly fulfilling. Now this wasn't my first foray into pickling, just my first jar of pickles using produce from the recently-back-in-action Point Reyes Farmers Market. I'd experimented with cucumbers, green beans, and other carrot varieties. I'd searched for and tried using an assortment of sizes and types of jars: Ball, Kerr, and a even a French wire-clamp jar with a rubber ring (these canning vessels are classic examples of the type of nostalgic domestic objects to which I'm forever attracted). Lastly, I read recipes from a diverse array of cultures before writing and then attempting a few of my own.

Once I decided what this particular pickling project would entail, the carrot preparation mentioned earlier began. Next, I selected whole spices from my Morton & Bassett collection, chosen specifically for my pickling experiments, and crushed most of the spices with my thumb to release their flavor, some required the strength of the bottom of a stainless steel measuring cup, and one spice, star anise, was too pretty to crush and was added fully intact. The smell of the apple cider vinegar, water, sugar, and crushed spices simmering on the stove was fantastic (Chris disagreed, but I loved it!). The photograph above is of the full jar as it cooled to room temperature.

My choice of attempting to make yet another labor intensive jar of pickled carrots versus biting into a fresh carrot much closer to its original and well-loved dirty root stage isn't much of a stretch when I consider other aspects of my life. How did a hyper-driven corporate recruiter with her favorite phrase "make dust or eat dust" posted prominently on the front of her computer abandon that world completely and pursue a Master of Fine Arts degree? The same way a proud urbanite committed to the contemporary art world and public transportation moved to a small rural town (pop. 350), bought a car, and became dedicated to growing fruit, vegetables, and caring for two boxes of composting worms.

These are just a few of the disparate experiences that have somehow become stitched together to create the person I am today. There is some part of me, sometimes a very small part, that has a soft spot for just about everything in my past.

Sometimes I miss the clear and quantifiable way I was rewarded in the corporate world. Calculating my value is much more complicated now and often leaves me feeling a bit unsettled. I was spoiled by my city apartment's proximity to delicious Indian, Japanese, and Vietnamese restaurants (just to name a few of my wide array of gastronomic choices). Guilty trips to H&M for $3 earrings or $5 sunglasses and those fabulous evenings having drinks in swanky bars with my girlfriends...sigh. Oh city life...

But now I make homemade lemonade with the lemons and mint that grow right outside my front door. I walk 5 steps out my back door and savor what seems like an endless supply of raspberries and blackberries. And then there is the gratification of digging my hands into the dirt with my neighbor to uncover a family of little potatoes and watching my peas' tiny tendrils hold on tightly as they climb higher and higher up my fence. The peaceful nights, quiet with the only exception being the sound of a lonely owl softly hooting every now and then...glorious. Oh the country life...

I love it all, but for now I focus on the moment and patiently await my first bite into one of my crisp pickled carrots.