Sunday, June 7, 2009

At last a weekend without rain - sunny and hot. Yesterday I got out to the garden early, harvested French Breakfast radishes and three heads of gorgeous, burgundy-leafed lettuce. I made up a bag of each for Scot, our mailman, a willing taster for anything I bake - I leave samples in the mailbox. He rang the bell and asked for ideas for the radishes, and I recommended spreading sweet, unsalted butter on thin slices of dark bread, and alternating bites of the bread and radishes. My pal. I weeded all morning, cut some roses and peonies from the lush garden which rain seems not to have harmed and Rachel, my daughter, called asking if I'd make pizza for dinner. An hour later she called again to say my grandson and his girlfriend wanted to come too, so that night I made two pizzas - I'd make the dough earlier and refrigerated it. The first pie was simply pained with olive oil, topped with thin slices of mozzarella and chevre and some grated Italian fontina, sprinkled it lightly with oregano and baked. Meanwhile I tossed some exquisite baby arugula I'd purchased from a local farmer with lemon juice and olive oil to put atop the slices. The next pie was topped with thin slices of red and yellow pepper and red onion and a few minutes before finishing I added a handful of butterflied shrimp and some roasted garlic slices. Too wonderful, not a crumb left. I hope the weather forecast is wrong, I find working in the garden an incredible stress reducer. Now, I'm going to settle down with a wonderful book, "Words In Air", the letters of Robert Lowell and Elizabeth Bishop.

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