June 26

7 a.m. was grey and cool, so I brought my morning out on the porch: scale, bowl, plastic ziplock bag full of different flours, Brita, starter, salt. Amidst the briney wind and painters glancing up at me in my linen apron (courtesy Maya and Rebecca), I watered Talia’s tomato plants and kneaded bread dough on the painted white table we haven’t quite managed to fix yet. It works; the wobbles are part of the joy. Our very own porch table, complete with (albeit dying) flowers in its center. 

The porch has been the lasting victory of the summer so far (lasting, as opposed to my growing-food-from-seed project, which was a victory up until I decided to repot my miniature seedlings - barely half an inch - in a fit of gardening enthusiasm and they promptly perished. One parsley sprout remains, feebly determined in its too-big pot, too little sun, too much water. Sigh.). The porch feels like a Sukkah; a place to sit, a place to lounge; decidedly comfortable and with immediate access to the kitchen.  

And the kitchen- I'll tell you, if the satisfaction of breads and soups in the winter was good, the glory of summer produce (thank you community supported agriculture!) is exceptionally good. Our fridge has been overrun by greens - who's even heard of escarole?! - we can't eat fast enough, though Eli has promised, as a part of his roommate duties, to consume ungodly amounts of salad this summer. The garlic scapes have been the greatest pleasure, though Talia's absence has slowed our production of pesto; today I will attempt to imitate her pesto prowess. Stand by for results. 

Other things on the agenda for Shabbat cooking: CSA-beet tart (the vision is rosemary-roasted beets on a feta-scattered bed of Trader Joe's GF pizza dough), creamy, herby salmon (dill-mayo, perhaps? or a creamy tomato something for a more unctuous hit), and a salad the size of Jupiter. There are greens to eat!!