Sungolds and their kin: summer stars

I wait all year for these!

Easy breezy herb garden pasta

As you might definitely know by now, I am forever trying to grow as much food as possible in our extremely shady back yard. Spend time trying to keep birds, squirrels and snails at bay organically while coaxing even a small handful of strawberries from a garden spot under a large tree, and you'll never balk at farmers market prices again. Suffice it to say I've mostly given up on plants beyond the trusty basics: greens of all stripes, container tomatoes and herbs. That said, a sage plant I planted a couple years back has decided it loves the shady spot under the tree and has grown into a sizeable bush pregnant with velvety, finger-length leaves. I love sage but don't use it enough. One of my favorite applications is sage butter tossed with pumpkin ravioli though that's most often a go-to meal for one when T is away because he finds pumpkin too earthily sweet to truly enjoy. But sage in large-scale use?

My good friend, M, has a terrifically sunny spot in her yard and is awash in herbs as I write. She recently made my mint-pistachio pesto and later asked about my sage-walnut pesto. Her question and subsequent making of that pesto jogged my memory in the best way: why wasn't I making sage pesto right now?

Last night, I did. And it was scrumptious. Simple, bright, unexpected. And a great way to use a delicate yet assertively flavored plant that's rarely forefront in people's minds. Try it soon; you'll love it too!

Willy? Filming pie-making

On the way to camp this morning, Ol said I should get pregnant again. I let him know that he and Jack were perfect and enough for me, and there would be no more babies coming our way. "Mommy, how do babies get made?"

"Well, Oliver, men make something called 'sperm..."

Jack: "OLIVER, it comes from your PENIS!"

"and, ladies are born with many eggs, and when the two meet, a baby is formed."

"Where does the baby live in the mommy?"

Thinking this all stemmed from our recent viewing of The Adventures of Milo and Otis in which, you might recall from a recent post about said viewing, cat and dog babies are born in a seriously graphic way, I answered very earnestly:

"In the uterus which is a really neat and strong muscle that houses the baby."

"How does the baby get out?"

"The neat and strong uterus pushes the baby out when it's time."

"Well, I want a little baby named Willy."

People, this is not where I thought this story was going. Who is Willy? Why is that the preferred name? And why did I go on and on about uteri when ultimately Oliver just wanted to let me know he wanted a baby named Willy to join the fold?

In hysterics, I left them at camp and scurried home to scour my kitchen and organize -read: throw the bag of hamburger buns into my Tupperware cabinet and relocate the toasted to the basement- because foodie friend C and I were to soon demo the My Lil' Pie Maker for the local news. Now, the incredibly beautiful anchor is our friend and knows how much we like to cook, so we did have that in, but we were SO excited, and yes, you'll be able to see us on the 5:00 news next Tuesday night. I will share the exact details when I know them.

It was great fun, and although I do not recommend the My Lil' Pie Maker for a whole host of reasons (watch the news to find out), filming was a blast.

You know that piece of pizza I felt so smug to have squirreled away last night? Yeah, joke's on me because I just went to get it for a snack and damn if hubs hadn't eaten it earlier. Grr, hubs, grr.