Garden

I'm almost to the point of never wanting to see another tomato. I can scarcely believe that I will ever pine for one again. (But talk to me in March.) We were supposed to get our first freeze last night, so the house is piled high with delicate herbs and tomatoes, both ripe and not, snatched before Jack Frost could claim them. I have made countless batches of sauce to freeze; I have dried cherry tomatoes to store in oil; I have dehdyrated and ground slices into a powder for seasoning salt and butter; there is a giant stash of spicy tomato fruit leather, and two dozen jars of spicy tomato jam aka nectar of the gods. There is such an over-abundance of food in the house at this moment, and it occurs to me I haven't really been sharing with you much about what I've been cooking. (I document some of it on Instagram; come visit @laurasilverman)

By the way, the Nikon was having some issues and had to be sent back to the manufacturer (now the only place allowed to do repairs!) so I apologize for the less-than-adequate iphone photos which will persist for god knows how long. I trust you will bear with me in my quest to defy perfectionism and simply soldier on...
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So many people say they feel better in the summer—the fresh air, the sunshine, the long days. I get it, I really do, but fall will forever be my favorite season. We're not quite there yet, though as I write this I am sitting in front of our first fire of the season. Yes, it was that chilly this morning. G and I did the switcheroo, where we move the dining table to the far side of the room and the couch back in front of the fireplace. Kitten is having a long bath in front of the blazing hearth and I am warming my toes from a safe distance.

Another harbinger of fall is the Romano bean, a long meaty pole bean that arrives along with the last of the summer tomatoes (of which we have multiple trays lining the kitchen counter). River Brook Farm, where we supplement our own crops, grows these green ones and also a lovely pale yellow variety called Marvel of Venice. These are Italian beans in the grandest tradition and they are so easy to prepare in the simple Tuscan style. I make a meal of them and, if you eat crusty bread, a big rustic slab would be the ideal complement.
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September has arrived and with it that bittersweet feeling full of nostalgia for the sweetness of summer, charged with anticipation for the fresh start that is fall. How I've missed you! This post will probably be a bit longer than usual because, in my month off, I have stored up so much to tell you.

I had many plans for the month of August, a long list of projects and goals. I wanted to make natural dyes. I was going to send out a survey to my readers. I had every intention of uploading all the content for the launch of my redesigned professional website. And guess what I did? None of that. Instead, I coped with having 5 herpes outbreaks in 6 weeks: a glaring sign from my body that all is not right. But your life is so perfect! you say. Country living, fresh food, walks in the woods—what could possibly be wrong? Actually, I am grateful for this wakeup call. I have clearly been pushing myself too hard, not taking the time to nurture myself and not really listening to my inner voice. You know the one. It tells us when we have reached our limit, when it is time for change.
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As I prepare to leave you for a month (my last post until after Labor Day will be on Friday), I realize I have shared very little of this summer's garden. I've spent so many back-breaking hours weeding it, and almost as much time picking off the great variety of insect predators that seem to be assigned to each tender vegetable and herb, that I haven't had much occasion to just wander through with my camera. It's bigger and more bodacious than ever. My favorite thing is to take friends on a smelling tour: lovage, anise hyssop, four kinds of mint, wild bergamot, sage, lavender, roses, chamomile, lemon verbena...it massages the senses. But wait. That might be my second favorite. Because what I like best is eating our bounty straight from the ground, still cool from the earth and vibrating with sunshine. And doing things to it first in my kitchen.
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In the midst of all the glories of summer—the deliciously cool mornings, the lingering evening light, the sound of the crickets, the smell of crushed tomato leaves, the feel of bare toes in prickly grass—life continues to have its challenges. For me, that means too much work tethering me to my desk and a wrenching sense of always feeling caught between what I want to do and what I have to do. Sometimes, those two things overlap but I often feel like there are simply not enough hours in the day. August is just around the corner though and that means a break from my blog. (I'll miss you!!) This year, I'm going to experiment with going dark on Facebook for the month as well.

I'm also trying something else that's new: when I wake up, instead of immediately obsessing about everything I have to get done that day, I take a little time to just lie there and review everything for which I can be grateful. Yes, I count my blessings. Inevitably, it begins with the man asleep a few inches away, whose love and support never fail me. Sometimes, I let my mind roam into the scary places and, even there, if I stay anchored, I can tap into the strength and the resolve to push through. I am no Pollyanna, believe me, but this little ritual really helps me start the day with optimism and joy in my heart. As for how I reward myself at the end of the day, the photo above should give you a clue.
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Inspired by this lovely post and remembering my own successful version from years past, I decided that a dozen small, fragrant yellow peaches gently poached in white wine with Thai basil would be the perfect finish to a meal of this grilled chicken. Nothing could be simpler. Or more coolly satisfying on a sweltering summer night. Or more seductive, slipping down your throat with a little sweet syrup. Drop in a few fresh raspberries and top with a dollop of whipped cream, though this comes dangerously close to gilding the lily.
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It's Friday and I promised you a cocktail. But in rebooting my computer, my last two weeks' worth of photos somehow disappeared, so I can't tell you about the wildberry gin I have been infusing. Long exhale. Mopping of brow. It's too hot to despair. The perfect solution? Exhorting you to make one of my all-time favorite summer cocktails: the Lovage You Long Time. You can do it! You can do it!

Don't got no lovage? Try infusing the simple syrup with a combination of celery leaves and stalks instead. The rest is just fresh lemon juice, Hendrick's gin, celery bitters and plenty of ice. A couple of these and the living will, indeed, be easy.
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Last year, we took some wild garlic plants from a friend's land and planted them in our garden. They emerged, thrived and grew tall this season, producing those elegant, winding scapes that are the flower stalks of hardneck garlic plants. Instead of actually producing flowers, they eventually form small bulblets that can be planted to grow more garlic—or eaten as is, or used to infuse vinegar. That's what I did today, tossing a generous handful into a jar of organic white vinegar. I'll let it cool its heels in the pantry for a few weeks, then strain out and discard the garlic and use the vinegar for salad dressing. No vampires in this house.
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I love eating out because creative chefs often inspire me to try new things at home. I think most home cooks feel the same way as you can see  by a feature of Melissa Clark's column on the Times' blog called Restaurant Takeaway, and something similar in Bon Appétit, known as The Takeaway. Who doesn't want to recreate those bold, compelling dishes that haunt us after we've dined out somewhere special? And when it's a relatively simple technique or combination of flavors you can copy, so much the better. That's the case with this mouthwatering fresh salad that pops up as a special at ABC Kitchen in Manhattan, where chef Dan Kruger is known for healthy seasonal cooking that drives people wild.

Don't worry about having to slavishly copy every last detail of a recipe. Here, it's the combination of fresh herbs, toasted pistachios and savory green olives in the dressing that makes this salad so addictive. At the restaurant, they lavish this mix on a whole gorgeous head of butter lettuce, but anything crisp and green will do.
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Today is the summer solstice and I can almost feel the earth tilting toward the sun. It is a time to be outside, to lift our faces to the sky, to bask in the longest light of the year. And, while we're at it, to always, always wear protection—melanoma is on the rise and the FDA has recently released new guidelines for wearing sunscreen. Most important is to choose "broad spectrum" coverage that protects against both UVA and UVB rays; to apply it every day, even if you're not going outside (UVA rays penetrate glass); and to reapply it every 80 minutes. Not so poetic perhaps, but then neither is cancer.

This month has whizzed by in a blur of work, but I have a renewed focus on dedicating time to my well-being. This has meant doing more yoga, riding my bike, hiking and even playing around with my hula hoop (highly recommended). I've also spent time in the garden, where weeding and picking pests off the plants give me a strangely wonderful satisfaction. Everything has exploded because of the rain and I love all the birds that come to visit this time of year.
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