bounty

For most of the spring, we ate lettuce. I love farm lettuce—devoured right there in the field, crispy and sweet off the stock; or drizzled with a little olive oil and balsamic; or wilted with pasta. But we ate a lot of lettuce. 

Now that it's July, though, the farm is starting to kind of explode with a bounty that makes me feel a little frantic. Pick! Eat! Pickle! Experiment! The bounty also makes me feel deliciously happy and summery--the first night we strolled the farm in this new season of plenty (more than a few weeks ago now), I almost cried. We stumbled back to the farmhouse trying to juggle fennel, broccoli, turnips, peas, beets, and more lettuce, hungry for our veggie feast even after our cherry, raspberry, and blueberry appetizers out in the fields. We've roasted, sautéed, and pickled the beets and radishes; diced the fennel in salads; roasted the broccoli with just a sprinkle of salt and pepper; folded roast  turnips into enchiladas; and crunched peas plain. 

Our herb garden keeps on chugging along too; last weekend, I spiced some canned tomato sauce with fresh-chopped rosemary and oregano for a pizza that (topped with fresh chèvre that our new goat-dairy-owning friends gave Tim after he spent a day working with them) was fairly revolutionary.  

The bounty is ever-changing, and we're already saying goodbye to peas (although I really feel like I was just getting to know them, to enjoy the juicy bursts of shell peas in pasta, to savor the crunch of snap peas sautéed in butter and mint) and hello to summer squash. We celebrated the first zucchini last weekend shaved and smeared with an easy almond-parmesan pesto, and the first yellow summer squash today sliced thin and dressed up with chopped basil and mint. 

One of the interns just put up a CARROTS sign out on the road and I hear rumors that the first tomatoes will blaze onto the dinner (and lunch and breakfast) scene in two weeks. 

I think the richness of this season is compounded by the waiting of spring--the rain, the watching of things growing, the eating of kale and lettuce, the dreaming of summer. Remind me of this next winter!