There’s a low-hanging cherry tree in the neighborhood. Eily’s been visiting it in between service berry picking. We made muffins with the harvest.
I’ve befriended tomatoes this past weekend. I admit i didn’t have much of a choice….if i didn’t, the fruit flies would have.
There are two boxes of san marzanos and granaderos waiting to be canned in the front hall, those rippened are filling up cookie sheets ready to be oven-roasted and the yellow and orange cherries are being brought in from the garden to soften in the fruit bowl.
I took one of these and topped a baguette and a slice of sauvagine and thanked the hot weather that finally came round.
But fresh is still best. Pinky-red rather than orange and heavily creased and folded like a true heirloom. Sliced and nestled together on sourdough.
Quite possibly the best tomato we’ve ever grown.
Our dill pickles just might be the prize of the fruit cellar. I restocked them yesterday, finishing the three jars that didn’t seal this morning, including the one that burst midway through, spewing a fountain of boiling pickling water across the kitchen. Yikes!
Soak cucumbers overnight in ice water. Drain and pat dry. Fill 1 Litre sterilized jars with a grapeleaf, a sprig of dill and a clove of garlic. Stuff in cucumbers. Boil the following and pour on top:
12 cups water
4 cups white vinegar
2/3 cup pickling salt
(This amount of liquid should be enough for 8 jars.)
Seal and process for 5 minutes.
After an overwhelming weekend, our kitchen (and ourselves) needed a little recovery. So i got to work. Sometimes it’s the best kind of therapy.
I turned the pile of tomatoes into salsa. The sovereign coronation grapes into pungent juice. The shriveled eggplant into baked perfection. And the softening barlett pears into sweet sorbet.