It’s the last day of summer, but already feels like fall here in Toronto, with overnight temperatures down to 10C/about 50F. But there are still valiant brilliant nasturtiums asserting themselves, the rudbeckia flowers on their tall stems are an intense yellow, and the anemones glow white as they come into bloom.
I ate two small red cherry tomatoes from the garden yesterday, the last for this year. And I did a little pruning, cutting back the over-enthusiastic shoots on the wild rose. It’s loaded with hips that I should pick and freeze, but likely won’t get to before I leave tomorrow for Tbilisi. My to-do list is still too long.
the wild rose bush with its rosehips and rusting leaves; a close-up of the hips
I’m feeling the weight of the season, as I wrote in last week’s post. Memories of last autumn hover and linger - flashes of scenes, feelings of desolation and loss - that stop me in my tracks and bring me to tears.
This house is where we lived that time so intensely a year ago. It’s disorienting to be leaving this place of memory for a few weeks, yet it also feels right to be moving forward into travel and fresh horizons. Part of living with grief is learning to wear it with ease as life goes on. And I know that I owe it to Tashi to try to carry all this lightly, as he would.
impossibly perfect dahlias at Footsteps Farm’s display, Trinity-Bellwoods Market
A small story: Last Saturday I’d been at a Sacred Harp afternoon singing at the TRANZAC and needed to rush home. In my haste and distraction I failed to clip my bicycle pannier on properly when I left. When I got home the pannier was gone. I hadn’t noticed it fall off. I retraced my route and some minutes into it came on a young woman standing by the street holding my pannier. She had found it, had looked in and opened my Sacred Harp book with my name and phone number in the front, and had tried to phone me. Big thanks to Geraldine, my Good Samaritan. This may seem a small event, but in the moment it was mighty. Note to self: Often the universe is kind and things work out nicely; remember these in the times when they go badly.
rudbekhia in the garden still tall, and in reflection
KITCHEN EXPLORATIONS with talk of tomatoes, leftover corn on the cob, plus vegetable cooking and wonderful potatoes
The pleasures of perfect tomatoes and peaches are about to come to an end. I am still eating them every chance I get. And blueberries.
perfect at any time of day
Sliced yellow tomatoes that look like peach slices at first glance are a pleasurable jolt to the eye as well as a treat. And there have been enough tomatoes that I’ve even cooked a few, despite thinking that their perfection should be tasted raw and un-messed-with.
tomato masquerading as peach, with St Albert cheese and brioche toast
The other day I needed to get supper made early before I headed out to an evening singing. There were some small zucchini and a handful of fresh tender young broccoli, so I made a vegetable “sauce” for pasta with those plus tomatoes. I started with plenty of garlic in oil over a medium heat (after popping mustard seeds in the oil and then adding fennel seeds). I added chopped broccoli and a little salt and stirred. Then the sliced zucchini and a chile pepper went in, with a dollop of sho koji liquid (now available in grocery stores) and a little water. I raised the heat to bring it to a boil and covered it with a lid. Several minutes later I added the chopped tomato. It all cooked to tender in ten to fifteen minutes, an excellent summer sauce for pasta, seasoned with plenty of grated pecorino. The leftovers were delicious next day topped with two fried eggs.
early in the process: the tomatoes just added so that it can all cook together to tenderness
A few days ago I boiled some summer potatoes that I’d bought from John and Inge at Wychwood Market. The skins are very fine and the potatoes delicious and tender-textured. John says they’ll be around for another couple of weeks. By the time I get back he’ll have a very nice winter potato called Superior. But it’s hard to beat the delicacy and good flavour of the summer ones. They cook quickly in boiling salted water (I start them in cold water, bring it to a boil, then add salt and stalks of mint) and don’t need to be peeled. I like to lift them out and into a wide bowl, then lightly press down with a large spoon to smoosh them a little flat, before adding dollops of butter and a little salt. The potato makes a wonderful succulent base for any kind of sauce (the vegetable sauce above, for example).
I’ve been using leftover grilled or boiled corn, stashed in a bag in the refrigerator, as an ingredient in vegetable dishes. It’s so handy to be able to cut the kernels from the cob and include them. As the summer potatoes were cooking I fried corn kernels in olive oil with plenty of garlic and a chopped chile, then added chopped new broccoli (I could have used chopped flat beans instead). It made an excellent sauce for the bed of potatoes.
the potato topped with the corn-broccoli combo, alongside a generous helping of tomato salad (made with thinly sliced cipollini onion and a generous drizzle of olive oil)
By the time I get home in October we’ll be well into fall vegetables. The weekend was chilly and so last night Dawnthebaker made supper for a crowd, with contributions from guests. Her starting ingredients were sitting in a box on her dining table when I dropped by for coffee yesterday morning, a foreglimpse of fall flavours.
what would you make with this box of vegetables? And the fire pit
She roasted the peppers and made a combo with chopped hazelnuts; perhaps roasted cauliflower and celery were in there too, I don’t remember. The cabbage was cut into wedges, oven roasted until touched with plenty of colour, then dressed with plenty of dill and dollops of yogurt. The little squash were sliced and roasted giving sweet nuggets to drag through the aioli… You get the idea. Vegetable heaven. We ate outside with the first fire-pit of the season reminding us of colder days to come.
in the meantime, a last glimpse of summer: fried eggs over leftovers, topped with yellow tomato
A BOOK NOTE:
I am late to the party but finally last week read Benjamin Labatut’s remarkable book (translated from the Spanish) When we Cease to Understand the World. Highly recommended. Big thanks to the Toronto Public Library, a treasure house with very kind staff.
