Tuesday, June 23, 2009
not found in nature
Behold, the first snap peas of the season! They join the strawberries, spinach and lettuce in produce we've harvested so far.
This year you have to walk through the vegetable garden to get in the house. We moved it so it could get more sun and so we wouldn't have to walk so far (20 feet) to weed and harvest. The old garden was a symphony of weeds, but this one just begs to be doodled in. So far so good.
We're glad of the snap peas because most of the garden is just toying with us. We have corn, squash, tomato, tomatillos, eggplant - all gorgeous, but ages away from maturity. The eggplant is actually not gorgeous. It is disgruntled and cold and would like to be flown to Italy, please.
We don't grow enough to sustain us completely. Our garden is more symbolic, like the Queen of England. It has no real power, but it looks darn good and does wonders for public opinion. That's the part I'm banking on.
I need public opinion help because I have something to confess. All this talk of garden produce and fresh eggs? It's sometimes eclipsed by a jar of salsa con queso.
There, I've said it. I have a salsa con queso problem.
A week or so ago I was at the grocery store and spotted some. I could not resist its charm, so into the cart it went. When I got home, the house was full of people, none of whom know about the queso, all of whom probably think I eat nothing but spelt and dark, leafy greens. So I did what any poser would do. I put the jar in my purse and smuggled it into the house. When no one was looking, I put it in a cupboard behind a jar of homemade applesauce.
A few days later, I was working late and suddenly remembered my stash. No one was awake. No one would know. I dove in. Ah, the spicy, gluey, goodness! This happened a few times over several days. Once I thought there was less in the jar than I had left, but what could I do? Ask around to see if someone had found the jar of salsa con queso in the back of the fridge? Risk giving myself away completely?
Tonight there will be another clandestine meeting. I will need to bring a spatula, because our little fling is nearly over. I will go back to leafy greens. I will maybe make some cookies. I will try to be the person I pretend to be. At least for a little while.