Gazpacho (tomatoes from Drumlin Farm, MA; red pepper from Dick’s Market Garden, MA; onion from Great Oak Farm, MA; cucumber from Bart’s Farm; red wine vinegar from Chicama Vineyards, MA)
Garlic bread (garlic from Drumlin Farm, MA; whole wheat flour from Wood Prairie Farm, ME)
Kids had jelly sandwiches on wheat bread (blueberry/blackberry jelly from Bonnie’s, MA)
Kale chips (kale from Drumlin Farm, MA)
Pears (Autumn Hills Orchard, MA)
Raspberries (Brigham Farm, MA)
Salad with blue cheese and currant tomatoes (lettuce from Drumlin Farm, MA; cheese from Great Hill Blue, MA; tomatoes from Blue Heron Organic Farm, MA)
Corn on the cob (Brigham Farm, MA)
Summer succotash (edamame from Drumlin Farm, MA; corn from Brigham Farm, MA)
Plum cake with maple ice cream (prune plums from Autumn Hills Orchard, MA; maple sugar from Warren Farm & Sugar House; cream and milk from Whittier Farms, MA; eggs from Chip-in Farm, MA)
Notes: The Toddler was feeling the effects of the cold I so generously gave him, so he ended up taking a long nap in the morning. The Preschooler and I spent the time outside in the shade shelling soybeans from the bundle of edamame branches we got from Drumlin’s farmshare. I snapped the pods off of the stems and sliced them open with a fingernail while he nudged the beans into a bowl. Or the grass. Wherever they happened to land.
We talked about many things, and he was surprisingly focused on the task at hand. He wasn’t at all discouraged by how long it takes to get even a handful of beans. He seemed to understand that some things just take time. It was a nice day, and he wasn’t in imminent danger of being tackled by his pouncing brother, so he didn’t care. He just kept shelling.
When the Toddler woke up happy and refreshed, I sensed this day was some kind of Yankee swap gift. Enjoy it while you can. So, we all spent part of a lazy afternoon at Brigham Farm nibbling raspberries and playing on their old swing set, and at the Blue Heron Organic Farm.
The Toddler was in hot pursuit of the chickens as they pecked at the festive fall compost.
That’s when I spied a quart of tomatoes the size of currants (they were conveniently not in the compost). You know how I am with tomatoes, but how many seeds can a tomato that size possibly have? The correct answer is: not many. And so, after sampling one and getting a pop without the horrible eruption of seedy tomato innards, I was sold. I brought them home and scattered them into a salad, and have been snacking on the remainder ever since.
It was a good day.