(no subject)

[mrissa]

I just got back from Byerly's for the second time in two days. And we got Simon Delivers yesterday morning. This is an extremely bad habit I have.

"We're a yeast packet short," I said, and markgritter started laughing: "A yeast packet short of a full batch?" "Yes." "You'd better not tell the neighbors." "Dear, I think they know."

So anyway, now the yeast is activating, so I can make the double batch of rosemary buns, so that nobody cries. (I imagined telling Mike, "Other people got rosemary buns, but there weren't enough for you." Let's go with no on that one, shall we? So I went to Byerly's, because there's no sense to making a single batch now and another single batch soon.) I've already made the chili, and I've made banana bread (a double batch again, and again: "Mike, I made banana bread, but I gave it to other people, so you don't get any"; and besides, we had 6 brown bananas instead of 3). It is an extremely domestic day. I think that pounding the rosemary bun dough will give me the last little bit of energy I need to finish this short story, and it's reading pretty clean right now, so that's good. Maybe 300 words left. Surely I can write 300 words.

Also we have strawberries to clean and avocadoes to slice (because I bought some at Byerly's that will be edible today and not merely in several days like the Simon Delivers ones). Also I think I can make pear crisp without putting anything in it Pamela can't have. I'm pretty sure I can. Crisps are easy, right? You just cut stuff up and then throw more stuff on top of them and then you bake them and then they are good. That is my current theory of crisp, and I've done it with apples and and with rhubarb and with berries of various kinds, and you know what I want now? Peach crisp. I desperately want it to be peach season. I've never had peach crisp, I don't think, but I know what it ought to taste like, and I think we can get there from here.

And tomorrow we will have bratwurst on the grill, and it will not be as good as the tomato basil sausages they don't make any more, but it will still be good. And also we will have salads, and I love salads even when they have nasty tail-end-of-winter lettuce and tomatoes, although I will love them lots more when the tomatoes are fresh. Ohhhh, and then there will be heirloom tomatoes with fresh mozzarella and basil and just a tiny drizzle of balsamic vinegar and salt and pepper, and something that simple has no business being that good, but it is.

What are you eating this weekend? Are you looking forward to any food "season"?

Comments

[merriehaskell.livejournal.com]

I am, as ever, ready for strawberry season, not that it will do me any good because I don't grow strawberries or know anyone who does (that doesn't live 3 hours away, but at least they'll send me jam at some point).

And then raspberry season. We live a mile away from a raspberry farm.

And rhubarb season (that I have in the backyard). And asparagus season. And I'm ready for new potatoes (also in the backyard; I'll be planting this weekend, in fact).

And now I want peach cobbler--but not crisp. Crisp is for apples, in my world. I don't want anything to mess with the texture of my peaches.

[mrissa.livejournal.com]

It is asparagus season, or nearly so. Asparagus is a spring vegetable. And as such it goes very well with artichoke hearts and red peppers and tomatoes and basmati in my Spring Dammit Hotdish.

I don't see how crisp would mess with the texture of your peaches more than cobbler. The main difference is that the topping junk is doughier with cobbler.

[mkille.livejournal.com]

Asparagus season is at Mother's Day. So Laura keeps assuring me, when I say, "Oh no, did we miss asparagus season?"

Where I live is famous for its asparagus. Apparently in England it used to be known as "Hadley grass" (that's what They Say around here anyway), Hadley being the next town north.