For a girl who hated melted cheese in most forms, it surprised everyone when I turned into a mac and cheese hound in college. This particularly decadent effort includes a cream so thick it had turned to butter in the bottle, three kinds of cheese - cheddar, feta and pecorino romano - sundried tomatoes, shredded greens and sauteed mushrooms. Baked in my trusty cast iron, of course.
My father hates beets, but he enjoyed the purplish carrots in this pile of roasted veg from the summer. The carrots, I am sure, came from the eccentric gardener a few miles down the road who runs a plumbing parts store out of the back of his mother's house. He grows the sweetest tomatoes I've ever had. And, when he's in a good mood, he lets me harvest carrots.
An early-summer study in simplicity - the fava beans were an experiment, to see what I could pull off. I don't recommend making fava beans alone. There's simply too much labor involved to only serve one person. One requires at least one admirer. The bread is pumpernickel, from the bakery. The egg, from my egg lady at the market - the one who sells goat meat and asks me about my knee. The beets and favas came straight from the farm box that gets delivered once a week in the summer.
No comments:
Post a Comment