Summer Saturday

Another gorgeous day today, although if the temperature of the sun early this morning is an indication, the heat and humidity will return for a few days. It's only the middle of August, after all.

The big excitement here this morning is the discovery that the tomato plants are big enough to support birds (kind of like that business w/ the mustard seed from the lectionary a couple of Sunday's ago). Three or four birds were perched in the vines (although they may have had a little support from the wire frames). It looked like they were nibbling at the flowers--or maybe bugs--not the tomatoes themselves. I don't mind. Given the number of tomatoes already ripening, I'm willing to share a few with other of God's creatures.

But here's the thing. Two of the birds were bright yellow! Honest. They looked like yellow sparrows. Now I don't know 'nothing 'bout no birds. I can recognize a sparrow, a mourning dove, a cardinal, a blue jay, a crow, a sea gull and a parrot in a cage. After that, things get pretty dodgy. Anybody out there know anything about yellow birds in Illinois? Please share.  I tried to take a picture, but the zoom on my little digital camera isn't good enough, and I couldn't get close enough before they flew away.  I hope they come back though. If nothing else, they're pretty.

Meanwhile, back in the kitchen, I was channeling Mom, who I know is up in heaven laughing herself silly watching me and remembering the summers I made her life a misery and a burden because I had to stay inside and help "put up" fruit and veggies instead of going outside to play. This morning, I froze some sweet corn and a few whole tomatoes.

The tomatoes are an experiment. I just scalded and peeled them and stuck them in Seal-a-Meal bags. No salt, no pepper, no nuttin'. But they should be good for adding to soups, stews and sauces come winter. We'll see. BTW, if Mom had had a Seal-a-Meal and a freezer, I might not have been such a whiner. (Well, maybe.) The vacuum-packing thing is way easier than those day-long bouts in a steamy kitchen sterilizing jars.

Oh, and I harvested my first two heirlooms this morning. They were hiding down under the vines and the super-tall basil plants.  The species is Black Krim. Here's what the little plastic tab (which I remembered to save, for once) says about them.

"They originate from the island of Krim in the Black Sea. They have a dark brown-red color on the outside and a blackish-red meat on the inside. They have a rich, sweet flavor with just a hint of saltiness."

The tab goes on to say they are good to eat in all the usual places--salads, sandwiches, soups, sauces, etc.  They are 75 days to maturity, do well in hot weather and need a tomato tower or staking for support. (They've got that right.)

Here's are pictures of my first two. The skins cracked,  but I think that's because they were on the vine a bit too long. I haven't tasted them yet, but I'll let you know.

Next project is by way of paying for the sin of neglecting the herb garden. If you don't cut basil back regularly, the plants get tall and leggy, with tough stems and smaller leaves. I know that, but I always get distracted, and end up with a bunch of plants in just that condition. So this morning I cut back all the basil down to where the more tender stems are.

Not a waste. The taste is still fine. So I'm trimming all the leaves off, discarding the stems and ramping up to make enough pesto to season pasta for a small third-world nation. It also freezes well, although it's a bit hard to preserve that gorgeous bright green fresh color. I may also vacuum-seal some of the leaves by themselves and see what happens with them.

Now one last thing on a completely different note before I get back to kitchen matters.

I make it a matter of policy to stay away from politics here at TCH. The subject raises too many hackles, and there's too much of it going around elsewhere, especially in election years. Besides, I always remember a quotation from Edward R. Morrow: "Just because your voice reaches around the world, it doesn't mean you know anymore than the guy at the other end of the bar." I'm not any better informed or wiser than the rest of you (and possibly considerably less so), so what's the point?

But every now and then things just get so silly and over the top that I can't keep my mouth shut any more. Right now, there's a notion floating around the Internet and in those viral emails that people forward automatically without thinking too hard about what they're doing to the effect that Barack Obama is the Antichrist. (Just type "Obama, Antichrist" in Google and see what you get.)

Now there are plenty of good reasons not to vote for Barack Obama for president.  Ditto, John McCain (who, for the record, I don't think is the Antichrist either). But being the Antichrist? Come on!

Please. We're better than that. We're smarter than that. And, in the spirit of Edward R. Morrow, it's not just me saying so. If you need more reassurance on this issue than just your own common sense, go here. 

Comments

[Jennifer]

Hey Nancy. I have a bumber crop of bushy basil this year. Do you know to pinch off the flower stems at the top of the plant stalks as they appear? If you do that, the plants get bushier, not taller.

I am jealous that you had tomatoes to freeze. We have a bumper crop of green tomatoes. Only a bunch of pear tomatoes, a few romas and two beefstake have turned in our garden. (They have been yummy! I just want more.)