Summer

Summer is here and our bar-b-que is cleaned and ready to roll. I love summer grilling. Not just the food and the luscious flavors that come off the grill, but the whole idea of being outside. The bikes get used more, the art supplies emerge from the garage, and the use of “screens” becomes almost non-existent(the key word here is, “almost”).

Last weekend I had returned from the farmers market with enough produce to feed my entire neighborhood.  As the red, green, purple, yellow, and orange vegetables stared me in the face, I instantly knew what I wanted to do.  

I grabbed the eggplant, zucchini, purple onion, orange pepper, and a few tomatoes, sliced them and rubbed them with a bit of olive oil and red wine vinegar.  Tossed them in a bowl with Celtic sea salt and some fresh ground pepper.

The grilled ratatouille was eaten, outside, as the rest of the meal was cooking on the grill.  The kids took a few bites, shot a few baskets, then came back for more. 

The conditions had to be perfect. We knew there was a ton of honey in the hive. June is the time to harvest, and it was already July. I recently had an unpleasant encounter with the bees when a photographer came to take some pictures of me, my garden, my birds and my bees. (It was late in the afternoon, I was nervous and, was he wearing after-shave? I’m not sure what set the bees off, but they got so feisty. The photographer was stung three times and a persistent bug managed its way into my hood and sent me running and yelping!) So, how to get back to the pleasant calm that husband Martin and I had on our April visit? 

Advice from fellow beekeeping friend Ilse, who tends bees and chickens at Sky Farm Red was taken: “Visit the bees between 12 and two, be super clean with no scent and freshly laundered bee suits.”

An offer of help from Bee Buddy Bruno was accepted.

So on a recent sunny day, we suited up, sipped our pre-hive-tending-calming beer and went for it.

There are few things that taste more like summer than watermelon. I still see such a vivid picture in my mind of my mother's first homegrown watermelon. She stood so proud, holding the melon by the end of the vine, like it was a prize that she'd won. Deciding whether it made a "thump" or a "thud" would make or break what seemed like the longest wait on earth for a slice of juicy watermelon.

These days, we've had a feast of watermelon with almost every meal - perfectly accommodated by natures rhythm to give something so juicy during this heat. Isn't that amazing? Our needs can always been met by what the soil gives us. I can still feel the sun in my skin long after I come inside and begin to cook dinner, so I look for something to deeply cool me from within.

Like my mother's precious watermelon, my prize grows on our fig tree. Each morning we check on the ripeness of the largest fruits that still hang from the branches. We enjoy the slow harvest that gives just a fig or two a day, the perfect slightly sweet snack.

Brisket is such a versatile meat. I like it best, slow cooked. I make it in the winter time, slow roasted with red wine, orange marmalade, orange zest, garlic and dried herbs. Yet, in the summer and fall months I like to make it BBQ style and serve it on delicious french bread with a side of Asian Cole Slaw.

The recipe calls for jarred BBQ sauce. Yet over the past few years I have really become even more conscious of what I am feeding my family. I have never bought a jarred salad dressing (even in college). Two reasons why: 1) they taste lousy and 2) there are way too many things in the ingredients list that I can’t pronounce.

And if I can’t pronounce it, I am not going to eat it. I have come to the conclusion that BBQ sauce is no different. I have decided to make my own. I make a big batch of it and use it for grilling, marinating, roasting and my kids like to dip their oven baked chicken nuggets in it.