2Amy's fava bean crostini

It is another stunner out there today, so after putting up the jam, I headed out; an appointment here, some window-shopping there, and then the realization that I was damn hungry. I was about a mile from 2Amy's, home of the best pizza in DC by a mile and my beloved fava bean crostini, a seasonal item that I stalk when the time is right and which inspired my own version of it (posted in recipes; delish). A quick call to Darlene, she of the delightful pink-streaked hair for you DC-area folks who might recognize and/or know her too, and I found that today's special app #3 IS this fab treat of a dish. I ordered that for me and some meatballs for the boys' dinner (you've never seen kids gorge on meatballs until you see them with a plate of 2A's polpette. It is truly a sight to behold so my little guys will get to indulge tonight. I just took these crostini down in about 30 seconds. Awesome.

Just look at those shavings of Parm, glistening with olive oil, speckled with Maldon. Feast your eyes on the fava bean purée, the grilled bread, the ridiculously good amalgam of flavors this dish is! Mamma mia.

I am about to scurry back out to pick up Ol but simply must share my complete belief in the power of looking in on your kids as they sleep as a way to alleviate any stress and/or irritation you may have acquired during the bath- and bedtime routine. I do this each night because the boys are so dear when they're beset with slumber. They don't talk or emit any foul noise. They are just perfect, and I always find that seeing them in such a sweet state helps refill my reservoir. Observe little O from last night.

Right?! ADORABLE.

Ping, ping...

Boo on this picture's glare, but you still get the sense of what a beauty this jam is. Just look at that hunk of strawberry! Is your mouth watering as you look at the ruby-red rhubarby-strawberry'y syrup? This recipe, by Melissa Clark inspired by Christine Ferber, is fab. Overnight, strawberry and rhubarb chunks macerate in sugar, lemon juice and their own delicious juices and after many gooey hours, you cook it all down and can it. Spring.has.sprung. (Though I did use rhubarb I'd carefully put aside in my chest freezer; it's all coming!).

Monday

What a nice day. I swear, y'all, the weather makes such a difference. To me, and to everyone else. People are nicer, calmer, they're smiling, bodies relaxed. I sure am, mine sure is. I had a few hours alone with each of my  little boys, a rare treat, time that is special not least because it's easier and also a bit of time for me too. A huge vat of strawberries, rhubarb and lemon is macerating now; an absolutely wonderful jam, I'll put it up tomorrow. I putzed in the garden and gleaned great joy from each and every perennial rebirth I saw. Perennials are like the Post Office in the best of times; no matter the weather, they're coming back. Perhaps slowly, perhaps even late, but steadily and consistently with little attrition. Despite the fact that everyone but me can grow both rhubarb (a perennial; so hearty it's sometimes considered a weed) and basil (an annual that I only ever hear is SO easy to grow but at which I fail most every year), I am otherwise a perennial-grower success story and cheer each plant on as if it's another of my children. The lilies have emerged like proud soldiers at attention, the marjoram and sage never really went away. The Astilbe bat their leafy eyelashes in a shy yet flirty way; the fern's fiddleheads consider unfurling. Hello, Columbine shoots, welcome back Bleeding Hearts. As if old friends have returned, another year advanced in age, experience and comfort, I welcome them all, happily envisioning the festive scene in my yard days, weeks, months from now.

T and I dined al fresco tonight, a meatless picnic dinner that was an acknowledgment of today's blogger movement against hunger in America (use what you have rather than buy new and risk waste), and, thusly, a terrific opportunity to clean out the fridge and freezer. The evening was gorgeous, the dinner perfect in its casual, tasty mien.