Greens

Summer heat has arrived, and our organic kitchen garden is exploding with edibles. Mind you, that's only because I water it every other day. We've had no moisture in the past six weeks, and precious little for the past ten months. In fact, our county has just officially slipped into severe drought status. Oh, for rain!

Still, we've got an abundance of greens and herbs. So I've been making pesto. Basil pesto last Friday, chervil pesto Sunday, and tonight, arugula pesto. Pesto is the simplest way I know of to preserve fresh herbs and their burst of flavor (and vitamins) for later use. I fill cup-sized jars with it and either put them in the fridge for use in the next few weeks, or freeze them. In winter, we use pesto as a sandwich spread (it's much healthier than mayo or butter), a sauce for rice, pasta, or simply steamed vegetables, and an addition to savory muffins and other baked goods.

Pesto

Pesto is ridiculously easy to make if you have a food processor or blender (you can also pound it in a mortar and pestle). Plant a few pots of leafy herbs (like parsley, basil, chervil, or cilantro) and you are set to harvest your own pesto makings, a truly satisfying enterprise.

The basic recipe for pesto is simple:

2 cups of fresh herbs (wash and trim tough stems and browned leaves)
2 – 4 cloves of garlic
1/4 cup hard, aged cheese (Parmesan, Asiago, Manchego–any kind you like)
1/4 cup nuts (traditionally, pine nuts, but I go for more local nuts, including pecans, walnuts and pepitas, pumpkin seeds)
1/4 – 1/2 cup good olive oil (I use organic oil; more makes thinner pesto, less makes thicker pesto)

Experimenting with different herbs and different kinds of nuts and cheese is fun, and gives you a sense of the flavor variations possible in this most versatile way to preserve summer's garden herbs for now or for months later.

Arugula

This morning I noticed that the arugula, which does not like heat, was bolting. So I thinned it out, harvesting about a half-pound of fresh green leaves and flower buds. Hence tonight's pesto-making.

That's the arugula, a peppery green, in the photo above, washed and about to be stored in the fridge in a clean, dampened kitchen towel to keep it moist. (I don't use paper towels much anymore; cloth towels work just as well in most instances and they're much more sustainable since you can reuse them over and over again.) Arugula is in the mustard family, along with broccoli, kale, cabbage, cauliflower, mizuna, and, of course, mustard greens.

Here's my recipe for arugula pesto, a wonderfully green and peppery sauce or spread (that's my arugula pesto in the photo near the beginning of the post):

Susan's arugula pesto

2 cups arugula leaves, stems, and flower buds
½ cup spinach leaves (to lend its fresh green color to the pesto)
2 cloves garlic
½ cup Manchego or other hard, aged cheese, cut into one-inch chunks
½ cup pecans
½ cup olive oil

Ingredients

Wash the arugula, pat or spin dry, and cut out any coarse stems. Whirl garlic cloves in food processor until minced. Add nuts and cheese, and pulse until the mixture looks like a coarse meal. Add arugula and spinach and process while slowly pouring in olive oil. Makes about 1 cup and a half of pesto, a generous amount for pasta for four people. Enjoy!

*****

On a personal note, I have to say that preserving the harvest from our kitchen garden, something I have always found very satisfying, is bittersweet this summer. As I label jars of pesto and put them in the freezer, I wonder if Richard will be with me to savor them on his lunchtime sandwiches come winter. It's a punch-in-the-gut reminder that we never know what's ahead, even though we often live as if our lives were infinite. Richard's brain cancer is teaching us to savor each moment, because it's what we have.

I'm not freezing all the pesto. We ate some on tortilla chips before tonight's dinner, because it was fresh and we were together to enjoy it.

Last night we had friends over for dinner for the first time in, well, months. It was a lovely sign that we're recovering some normal in this journey with Richard's brain cancer, or if not normal (whatever that means in these days of nuclear disaster in Japan and bloody revolution in Libya), at least the ordinary pleasures of cooking together.

The latter is no small thing. As I began prep cooking late in the afternoon while Richard napped, I tried to remember the last time Richard's brain was up for the task of collaborating on a meal. I couldn't. I'm guessing sometime before my mom's downhill slide around the holidays.

But last night, he was on task. He checked the barbecue and cleaned off the grill, made the guacamole , and grilled the lovely whole salmon filet I had scored on sale at the grocery store (wild Alaskan salmon, thank you very much, caught in FAO Area 67).

I made the quinoa salad, picked fresh greens from the garden for garnish, prepared and baked the apple-nectarine crisp, and plated the meals. (They were pretty, as in the photo below.)

Plate

Here's the menu, which uses as many local foods as possible:

Almost-Spring Dinner (in honor of John and SueEllen's visit)

Organic yellow corn tortilla chips with freshly-made guacamole (the chips are from Colorado, the rest, no)
Grilled salmon brushed with blood-orange-infused organic California olive oil (nothing local there, but quite yummy!)
Quinoa Loves Lemon salad with fresh spinach and chervil garnish (all local but the olives)
Whole wheat boule (fresh-baked at Salida Bread Company from local organic wheat)
Apple & Nectarine Crisp with vanilla and lemon ice cream (the crisp is all-local, the ice cream not at all)

Quinoaclose

Quinoa Loves Lemon Salad
1 clove garlic, minced
1 T olive oil
1 cup rinsed quinoa (I substituted a third-cup of bulgur for a third-cup of the quinoa just for variety)
juice of one small Meyer lemon (about 1.5 T), in this case from our own dwarf tree
2 cups water
pinch salt
1/2 cup chopped broccoli, steamed
1/2 cup Greek or Spanish mixed olives, pitted
1 T lemon-infused olive oil
greens to garnish (I picked spinach and chervil out of our winter greens bed–sweet and fresh!)

Mince garlic and sauté in olive oil until just beginning to brow. Stir in quinoa (and bulgur, if substituting) and saute for two to three minutes. Add lemon juice, salt and water and bring to a boil, then simmer for 15 minutes or until water is absorbed. While grain is still warm, stir in broccoli, olives, and olive oil. Mound atop fresh greens. Delicious warm or chilled. (Makes 4-6 servings.)

Fruitcrisp

Nectarine & Apple Crisp
1 quart frozen nectarine slices (I freeze them ripe with a dash of citric acid and sugar to preserve their color)
6 apples (I used last fall's local Sungolds–they're a mite withered, but they still have great flavor)
1 T apple brandy
3/4 cup whole wheat flour
2 T oat bran
1/2 cup sugar
1/4 cup roasted pecans
1 tsp ground ginger
1 tsp ground cinnamon
1 stick (8 T) unsalted butter (chilled or frozen)

Heat oven to 375 degrees. Core apples and chop into one-inch chunks. Spread evenly into a 6- by 10-inch glass or ceramic baking pan. Top with nectarine slices (I like to arrange them prettily as in the photo above, even though they disappear under the crisp topping), sprinkle with apple brandy and set aside. Put flour, oat bran, sugar, pecans and spices into food processor and whirl to combine. Cut butter into chunks, add to food processor and pulse until butter-flour mixture is the texture of coarse cornmeal. Pour mixture over fruit, level out, and tap pan a few times to settle. Put pan in oven and bake for 55 minutes or until crisp top is browned slightly. Cool before serving with ice cream. (Makes 6-8 servings.)

Crispwicecream

Delicious food, much of it local and organic, good friends, wonderful conversation–all in all, a great evening. Best of all though, was the sweet realization that Richard and I can collaborate in the kitchen again. An absolutely ordinary miracle!