Summer tomatoes are one of my most serious and favorite obsessions. I like to eat them plain, as I would an apple; on a BLT; on white bread with mayo and salt a la the ultimate Southern tomato sandwich; with pretty much any cheese; in a tart; on a pizza; or as the star of a good salad. Such was my lunch today, and boy was it superb. I was making a batch of Peach Pie Jam (of the gods) so needed a quick, simple, forgiving meal. Oh, shite, gotta get Jack to camp. More later. Voila!
I must say the first of my farmers market chickens was put to good use this afternoon: soup. I love the idea of chicken soup when sick because in addition to its purported healing powers, it also helps keep you hydrated. I struggle to do so on the best of days and when I'm feeling under the weather find my resolve to down those eight glasses weaker still. I didn't have any celery but leeks, spring onions, roasted garlic and carrots sufficed nicely as my base. Salt, pepper, bay leaves, and lemon, thyme, cinnamon, a touch of nutmeg and a late addition of wide egg noodles rounded things out. The noodles alone scream "comfort's a'coming" and when in a good soup, well, I feel pretty satisfied.
One of the unspoken truths for many of us in the midst of young motherhood is this: on your birthday and Mother's Day, you really just want to be alone, or with your adult friends or your partner. As opposed to: with your kids.
Today, I am 37, and though I got to sleep in the basement last night, this morning has been little more than meltdown mayhem. As such, I don't consider my special day to really start until both boys are at school. When I can actually think, take a deep breath, uncrimp my body, put myself first.
I can't wait.
I'm seeing some friends this morning and then indulging in a looong massage. As quickly after school pick-ups as possible, I'm going to leave the kids with a babysitter and go get a pedicure. I intend to actually read some of my book today. I want to have some time to work up a recipe I've been pondering.
I can't wait.