Death by fruit

"Honey, what the...? How much fruit is this?"

"Uh, about 60 pounds," I replied, sheepishly happy.

****

In no real way have I "taken it easy" this week. That was my personal dictate, and I have failed. That said, I've had a ball. 

Said ball culminated with a spontaneous pilgrimage to Larriland Farm yesterday. It's a fantastic, sprawling, organic/IPM (integrated pest management) farm in Woodbine, MD, which is about an hour from NW DC. 

Each day, Larriland posts what you can pick that day, and yesterday's options just got me too excited to stay home: Shiro plums, peaches, blackberries...

Unlike my maiden voyage last year (which resulted in A Case for Thorns, a post that was so popular I felt like a real blogger!) for which I planned not at all and thus ended up out at Larriland with dirty teeth, a desperate need for the bathroom and gas, and no food, I this year took the time to ready myself: water, snacks, full gas tank, walked and fed pets.

First to the peach fields for a quick-and-easy 22 pounds. The birds chirped, the bugs buzzed, and I had visions of peach jam, peach pie and brandied peaches floating through my head. Cute kids wove through and around the grove, blissed out as I was. Except for that crying baby. Grr, crying baby. I jest. A bit.

People- seriously(!) on the iPhone camera. Impressive. #nofilter

"Girl, you are rocking this trip!" I told myself as I paid for the peaches and headed to the plum orchard.

Peaches! #nofilter

Once amidst the plum trees, I felt a sting of disappointment: where are they? But then I remembered that not looking up and under is a rookie mistake, and so I did. Shiros everywhere! 

That yellow-flesh varietal is one of my favorite for jam-making. So, as you probably suspect, I picked and picked and picked and then threw in some little purple ones too: Methleys (not my favorite) or Rosas? Not sure but lovely.

Plums! #nofilter

Back to the cashier. New box. On to blackberries and to beat my sixteen-pound pick of last year. Why beat 16 pounds? Well, because Jack's very favorite jam is blackberry and what I made from the non-eaten berries from 2014 didn't last us past this January. This year? 21 pounds.

Blackberries or caviar? #nofilter

I fully intended to go home after blackberries, but the cashier said that raspberry picking was actually pretty good and since I was all the way out in Woodbine, I decided to forge ahead because y'all, I am not lying, little is more magnificent than homemade raspberry jam.

Quick handful of almonds, bunch of water, burst of AC and to the raspberry patch. At this point, many hours in, I was really starting to tire. It was hot, not a cloud in the sky. Gorgeous day but now 1:45, I thought, "Girl, almonds aren't lunch but raspberry jam." Easy calculus and so I fetched another box.

Raspberry plants are thorny, dense and underwhelming from an aesthetic perspective. But the "up and under" mantra will repay you in spades, so I jumped right in. Bees and other beneficial bugs were everywhere but I just said, "Thanks, bugs" and we respected each other's personal space. 

That's the great thing about being in nature when no one has tried to kill anything. You see what a beautiful balance is struck when Earth is left to her own devices. You realize that we needn't fear buzzing, flying, leggy things. Spending time outside is one of the greatest educations, in my opinion; one of the greatest ways to inspire a deep wonder and appreciation for our world. Get out there, get dirty, pay close attention, sweat, give thanks.

Lucky me, both red and black raspberries were there for the taking, and take I did. Just about four pounds but enough for 6 pints of jam or so. (I know because I made some at 9pm last night out of wild-eyed fear that my beautiful, delicate bounty would go bad). 

****

Once home, I quickly moved everything inside, ran to pick the boys up from camp, told them they could be as lazy as they wanted to until bedtime, let them eat as many blackberries as they wanted and got to work making jam and a pie and dinner for everyone.

grilled peaches with mint, olive oil, grilled bread and either homemade ricotta (left) or mozzarella (right)

After dinner and the raspberry jam, I said, "T, put a fork in me. I'm done!" and went to bed.

A dinner fit for a running girl?

Shoot y'all, I hope so.

Training for September's half-marathon during the summer is not as basic as I thought it'd be.

For one, it's hot as balls out there.
For two, it's humid as balls out there.
For three, I prefer to run out there.

And so you see part of the problem.

Additionally, I am an underperforming self-hydrater during the best of times, and downing large amounts of protein isn't my go-to meal. When I was pregnant with Jack, my doctor repeatedly said to me, "You must eat more protein." So I found the love for a white bean chicken chili and proceeded to eat family-sized portions as often as I could.

I eat a great, well-balanced, healthy diet, but yesterday, a friend said, "Remember, you also need protein." Same song, second verse déjà vu, and I soon found myself at the market buying steaks. They hit the spot and made for a good excuse to pop the cork on a beautiful Grgich Zinfandel we've been tending.

pan-seared filet mignon with roasted cherries

I also roasted some purple potatoes and made Heidi Swanson's Pan-Fried Giant White Beans with Kale, a recipe I'd had saved in my "To Try" pile forever. Fortunately, I'd put some dried butter beans on to soak the night before and so was ready. 

pan-friend giant white beans with kale

Do y'all eat butter beans? They are a huge lima and have a pale, creamy hue. I grew up eating them on a regular basis and love their velvety texture and bigness. I bring bags of dried butter beans back from Lake Charles. Though I'm certain I could find them here, it makes me happy to eat Camellia brand beans because they're a Louisiana company. 

Camellia butter beans

Get some. Take a big handful and let them run through your fingers. They are like the smoothest pebbles at the beach, sanded away to baby's-butt-soft over the years. I love it!

I feel good today and am drinking water like it's my job. Stubborn is as stubborn does, but I'm trying.

Pesto, handpies, and a great margarita

It has been a damn good week of eating. Summer produce can make meals both simpler and more delicious, and I am extremely appreciative of that seasonal gift.

Because mint is an herb I can grow successfully -unlike basil and rosemary, both of which seem like herbs that black-thumbed idiots can grow; what does that make me? hmm..- and I love its clean, bright flavor, I use it regularly in favorites like my mint pistachio pesto.

Earlier this week, I oven-roasted some beautiful halibut and then spooned the mint pesto atop the filet while still warm. C'est magnifique!

oven-roasted halibut with mint pistachio pesto

The tomato salad came the night after the halibut when I went against my better judgment and bought some fresh sockeye salmon. It was so stunningly just-from-the-sea that I was certain this filet would be the one to change my mind.

It did not.

Sockeye is too flat and too dense for my liking. Thank goodness for the luscious toms.

collard and chorizo handpies (pre-bake)

And the next night came collard and chorizo handpies which are always a treat. And later, a grilled pizza.

This afternoon, at a first grade swim party, my good friend, M, brought me a huge, fragrant bunch of basil from her yard. She is not a black-thumbed herb idiot, and I am often the lucky recipient of her success.

It was very hot today but because I'd bought more than a few flowers at the big annuals sale at the nursery yesterday and so needed to go gang-busters in my garden after the swim party, I decided, as I walked up the stairs sweaty and muddy and mosquito bitten and whooped after planting, that we'd be having pasta with fresh basil pesto tonight.

happy Em

But first a shower. And then a margarita made with my favorite new strawberry and meyer lemon shrub* from Shrub & Co. And then a Harry Potter #7 read-aloud and then the pasta -bucatini- with fresh basil pesto, hold the garlic and pine nuts tonight to keep things light, and chopped tomatoes.

And now to bed. YAY!

*What is a shrub? A shrub is a marvelous concoction crafted from fruit, sugar and vinegar. It's yet another method of preservation though for a very different application than say, jam or pickles. Shrubs are used in cocktails (or mocktails) and provide both sweetness and tang. Shrub & Co makes outstanding shrubs: Blood Orange Cardamom and Strawberry & Meyer Lemon are two of my favorites.