if dragons were a thing...

there is a strange game of sorts that is played out every morning in our home. it is sorta like a staring contest... but with cats. the loser is the one who gets the most annoyed by one (or more) cats walking back and forth across their head, so they "tap out" by getting out of bed to feed the furry nuisance. what does the winner get, you ask? they get to smile and carry on sleeping.

he was up late last night finishing off an animatic, while i was getting mildly-drunk on sparkly cider and calling it an early night, so i abandoned any hope of sleeping in late, and climbed out of bed shortly after five to begin the day's duty of lavishing adulation on our furry threesome.

this was followed by the ritual that everyone (including the cats) has come to look forward to at the start of each day: the opening of the doors to this year's balcony garden project. it is—sans doute—the best one yet.

i usually try to document each year's garden, but... you know. we had skipped the usual trip to the nursery to select plants, because... you know... so we ended up purchasing plants online from Urban Seedling. this is a (new to us) nursery located among the riverside parks on Montreal's south shore, where we sometimes go to waste a few leisurely Summer hours, back before... well, you know.

enthusiasm was (understandably) almost non-existent in the middle of Spring, so we selected just the bare minimum assortment of plants, figuring we could use the leftover space for the grill. when the seedlings arrived just in time for planting outdoors, we wondered if we should have ordered a few more.

boy, were we ever wrong! you can barely walk around out there.

here you see Mama Kitty in repose below the thumbelina zinnias. she enjoys a post-breakfast nap among the plants... until it starts to get too hot, then she retreats to the barely air-conditioned living/dining room, where she will spend the rest of the day in adoration of the animator while he works. me? jealous? perish the thought!

Baby Bear was indoors taking a post-breakfast nap, after which she usually returns to the food area to make a second breakfast of any bits that were left over by the other two. is a Hobbit Cat a thing?

meanwhile, the Little One was visibly annoyed with me for disturbing her while she hunted for bugs behind a pot of herbs. good times.

the pot contains mojito mint, Thai basil, and holy basil (which smells very much like a well-ripened blue cheese). we have been using the basils in cooking, and most of the mint will end up being dried for making mid-Winter cups of herbal tea.

the terracotta pot of rosemary, thyme, and oregano will become a houseplant once the season is through. until then, we take snips of the fresh herbs to make delicious food.

it is a criminal offense to have a garden without tomatoes, so we planted a trio this year. we selected a large, medium, and small tomato to encourage a bit of variety in how we use them. the first of the (large) Cherokee purple will be ready to harvest once it turns... you know... purple.

ditto for the (small) black cherry.

the (medium) Montreal tasty are showing the first blush of red. this is a locally-developed variety that is good for slicing or canning.

there is also a Georgia flame pepper somewhere out there, but that has been overtaken by the golden scallopini squash.

there are also strawberry plants scattered throughout the space, but we have harvested very few strawberries thus far. we bought three varieties of strawberries from the pop-up outdoor garden center at our local market... the morning after a late-season frost hit the area. they were so badly damaged by the cold, that we did not expect most of them to survive. but, survive they did.

the frost came days after we planted the garden, and we were afraid that most of the plants would be destroyed. our options were to either haul multiple ten-gallon pots of soil indoors for a couple days until the cold spell passed, or to try to shelter them from the cold... without throwing both our backs out in the process. so, we came up with the brilliant idea of tenting a recycling bag over each pot to form a min-greenhouse of sorts.

it worked, and our plants were saved. then they started to grow, and grow... and GROWWWWW! now, you practically need a machete to get through there come watering time. what a difference a couple months make!

in this lush, jungle-like setting lives the star of this year's balcony garden project. do you see it there in the back corner, threatening to overtake the whole space?

this is the (near-mythical) dragon's egg cucumber. the variety is native to Croatia... which was all he needed to hear. he has already recommended this plant for his (very Croatian) parents' backyard garden next year.

this was the only plant that had taken any damage from the frost.

luckily, it quickly recovered... then it began to spread everywhere. when the cucumbers mature, you can see just how the plant got its name.

him: wow! it really looks just like a dragon egg.
me: i realize that you are an artist, so you have a colorful imagination—which i totally respect and appreciate and stuff—but it pains me to have to be the one to remind you that dragons don't exist. 
him: yeh, but that's what the eggs would look like.
me: how can you determine what the egg would look like... of a non-existent thing?
him: because they'd be shaped like that, with that light-green color. that's exactly what a dragon egg would look like.
me: yeh... if dragons were a thing.

then he muttered something about "you Science people", while shaking his head in pity at my adherence to a crazy little thing called Reality. this, ladies and gentlemen, is my life. every. single. day.

i will give him full credit for the two important things that went into making this the best balcony garden project yet. firstly, he convinced me to incorporate lots more color into the mini-landscape. you will have already seen the spray of zinnias, yellow gem marigolds, and snapdragons...

[random aside: i love zinnias. they always remind me of the flowers in my (maternal) grandmother's front yard back in the Caribbean. there is a picture somewhere of my cousin and i standing in that garden as little kids, with the flowers almost over our heads.]

there is also a pot of nasturtiums, snapdragons, orange gem marigolds, and pansies.

and a firecracker marigold, which is about three feet tall...

and produces the most beautiful, large flowers.

given our limited growing space, i tend toward wanting few (or none at all) purely decorative things. however, given the number of curious pollinators visiting our tiny garden, the flowers seem to be working their magic. plus, some of the nasturtium leaves and flowers occasionally make their way into a salad, so this flowering plant is definitely not a waste of space.

the second (and most important) change was that we covered the whole balcony in bird netting.

this one was entirely his doing. in fact, he had ordered the netting before trying to sell me on the idea. we tied the netting to a long bamboo pole which was secured over the balcony doors, and draped the netting over the whole balcony. we positioned a few bamboo poles along the railing to keep the netting elevated above our heads, and we finished by tying the netting off at multiple points along the railing to keep the edges in place

i remained wholly skeptical... until a day or two later, when i realize that we did not have to take turns waking up before sunrise to be on squirrel-watch. in fact, it has proven to be the single greatest deterrent to the scourge that is squirrels in the Summertime. the netting is too flimsy for climbing on, so the closest they can get to destroying the plants is by crawling along the railing, and reaching through the mesh.

so, yeh... it works!

naturally, i got to listen to him continuously reminding me about this one time he was right—and i was wrong—about a thing. then he ruined said victory by following it up with some highly-comical amateur plumbing... which i will save for another day.

Jultember: Mother Nature's candid camera...

[random aside: i am drinking ginger ale out of a wine glass, because i am fancy like that.]

with my favorite animator out of town, i have been forced to spend more time on the balcony than i am used to, as he handles most of the day-to-day care of the outdoor plants. why is that, you ask? because vertigo, i respond. pretty much.

i was harvesting some tomatoes this morning, when i noticed that the lemon balm had gotten a bit out of control again, so i decided to do another round of thinning it out so it does not overcrowd the peppers. problem was, that container is at the far corner of the balcony, meaning that i had to take more than one large step out of the door to reach it.

so, there i was, in full-blown panic mode, when i noticed some guy out on his balcony about half a block away, and he was leaning on the railing with what i presumed to be his phone in hand, looking in my direction. so now there would be an audience for when the panic peaks and i manage to injure myself in the resulting dis-orientation overload... and it would probably end up on You Tube.

his presence there only served to increase the panic i was already experiencing, so i hurriedly collected the lemon balm and double-checked that i had closed the anti-squirrel cages around the tomato plants before taking the few steps that would bring me back to the safety of the doors. naturally, he was still watching.

i wanted to wave hello at this point with a tomato in one hand and a bouquet of lemon balm in the other, but that would be a violation of my introverted curmudgeon code. so i just sat down in the doorway and took stock of my morning's harvest while waiting for that feeling like i was on three roller-coasters at once to go away.

vertigo is one of those things that you have to experience to be able to fully understand it. even then, it does not make sense. no exaggeration... i used to have to get rescued from not-tall trees all the time back when i was a very young lunatic. similarly, i used to sit on the park swing and rock back and forth a bit, but my feet never left the ground. even now there is a firm understanding in place in our home that should there ever be an emergency that requires us to exit via the fire escape, he will have to clobber me over the head till i black out, then drag/carry/shove me to safety, because there is no universe in which i am ever setting foot out on that contraption.

why then am i living four-and-a-half floors above ground level, you ask? because i like the view, i respond. seriously, we are at canopy-level with the big  trees, and it is breathtaking most days. there is an almost-forgotten world of activity in a treetop, and it is right there at eye-level. you could be standing there, sipping a hot beverage, and a hawk would go flying by so close that you feel like you could almost reach out and touch its wings... though i do not recommend giving that a try. and, while i genuinely wish the squirrels would stop invading my space, there is so much humor and even the occasional touch of awe to be found in their antics up in the treetops.

have you ever observed a squirrel as it prepares for a rainstorm? i have. they chomp through the end portion of small branches, then drag the tuft of leaves back to their nest-hole where they lay one tuft on top of another until they have a thick enough layer to keep out the rain... kinda like layering palm leaves atop a small hut. problem is, squirrels are just possibly the most inefficient builders in existence, and they usually end up dropping the vast majority of the leafy branches, which go sailing to the ground. it is like watching Mother Nature's candid camera when they are in storm-prep mode. if you ever walk or drive down a tree-lined street and see the leafy-ends of lots of branches strewn about on the ground, just know that there is a squirrel somewhere up above your head trying desperately to storm-proof.

i should add a bit of a post-script regarding my tomatoes yesterday. i think i may have started something. i was describing the process to my mom as i was making it, so she decided to make it with her tomatoes. then i showed the photos to my favorite animator (who is still at his parent's place), so he gave it a go today with some of the tomatoes from their garden. it was a hit all around.

guess where this little guy is gonna end up...!

Jultember: when Summer's gone...

our household has become utterly addicted to the taste of lemon balm. we have been including it all of our usual summery beverages. from iced tea, to lemonade, to ginger beer (a wholly non-alcoholic Caribbean concoction we make by the gallons at this time of year), a dash of fresh lemon balm seems to elevate the mundane to magnificent.

the plant is so easy to grow. i tucked a bit of it in with the peppers, and that was all the help it needed from me. lemon balm is a member of the mint family—which means that its natural tendency is weed-like overgrowth—so it is highly advisable to corral it in some sort of container (unless you want your garden overrun with the stuff). this makes it a perfect candidate for the balcony garden project.

and it tastes great as a hot or cold beverage, so i will definitely have to dry some of it in the coming weeks to save for when Summer's gone.

my conscience got the best of me...

no, that is not the tropical conservatory at the botanical garden. it is my living room. allow me to explain.

we have arrived at mid-October and the first real taste of Autumn weather in Montreal. there is a frost advisory in place for the overnight hours, a gentle reminder that Winter is almost here. i spent the entire afternoon nestled under a blanket on my comfy sofa while the cats took turns keeping me company (the grey one is napping next to me as i type). we have returned the living room to Winter-setting, which basically means rearranging the furniture so that said sofa is once again tucked into the corner near the wall-of-glass. the view is warm and sunshiney by day...

and the sunsets are spectacular (even when it is overcast and raining lightly, like today).

Winter tends to arrive early in these parts, so we packed up the balcony garden a couple weeks ago and put most of the gear into "storage" (a.k.a., the back of the hall closet). there was one large pot full of herbs and another one that contained some almost-mature peppers that we brought indoors to join the jungle of houseplants already occupying the living room. i had merely hoped that the move would slow down their inevitable decline, but they seem to be absolutely thriving in the new digs.
 

my favorite animator was ready to abandon the wilted trough of cutting celery (the parsley-looking stuff up against the glass door), but i took pity on it and brought it indoors. not only did it recover, the plants are doing better than when they were outdoors.  we cut quite a bit of it yesterday to add to a pot of soup, and i predict lots more tasty meals featuring super-locally-sourced herby things.

then there was the lone container of nasturtiums, hanging on for dear life in the advancing cold.

i was saving all the edible things, and while nasturtiums totally qualify as such, we never eat them. i grow them entirely because they look like wee little umbrellas for gnomes. my garden... my irrational rules.

i could not bring myself to uproot the plant during the clean-up, so we left it to the mercy of Nature. problem is, the thing refuses to die... and it keeps putting out flowers!

i sat there this afternoon, studying the plant through the glass, realizing that it would likely succumb to tonight's promised frost, when my conscience got the best of me. besides... floor space is so overrated.

champagne wishes and parmesan dreams...

no exaggeration... this is the single tastiet meal i have had in a very long time.

it all began when i plucked a leaf from a basil plant....

then realized that i have way more of the stuff than i can use.

i took this as a sign from the cosmos that it was time to make more pesto, so i snipped a healthy bouquet of the fragrant leaves, and headed for the kitchen.

it takes very little to make a pesto. purists may scoff at the suggestion, but it really is a "use what you got" sort of recipe. the classic formula consists of basil, olive oil, parmesan cheese, garlic, salt, pepper, and a dash of pine nuts. i buy pine nuts maybe once every two or three years, but i almost always have walnuts on hand, so... walnuts it is! note, i did not bother to crush the peppercorns or the coarse sea salt (the pinkish stuff next to the peppercorns). life is too short.

i did, however, take a minute to faux-blanch the basil leaves, as it helps to preserve that beautiful green color. this step required a container of ice water, a kettle of hot water, and a heat-proof container.

the whole process took about a minute flat.

spread out the basil on the paper towel...

and give it a roll and a light squeeze to soak up all the water.

then toss all the ingredients into a blender, along with a very healthy drizzle of olive oil. do peel the garlic, but the blender will do the rest of the work. ditto for the parmesan, which i broke into small chunks, but i skipped the grater.

all it takes is a few pulses in the blender...

and a quick transfer to a clean jar. worry not. the stuff left on the sides and bottom of the blender will be put to use in a minute.

air is the enemy of pesto, as it will turn the whole mixture to a muddy brown. the blanching slows down that process, but you still want to add a thin layer of olive oil to the top of the pesto and keep it capped and refrigerated. use fresh pesto within one to three weeks, or it can be frozen and stored for several months. pro tip: pour it into an ice tray, then store the frozen cubes in a freezer bag, and you have handy portions of pesto to add directly to hot pasta.

at this point, add a splash more olive oil to the blender, just enough to mobilize the residual pesto, and pour it over some pieces of chicken (i used boneless, skinless thighs), along with a dash of salt and pepper.

give it a mix to coat the chicken...

then the container of chicken and the jar of pesto are ready for the fridge.

here you can clearly see the oil layer on the pesto. i tend to add a splash more olive oil to the jar after every withdrawal to keep that layer intact.

some few/several hours later, put a grill pan on medium heat and open a bottle of white wine. i happen to have a bottle of bubbly on hand, so that i what i am using. i will not go so far as to actually call this stuff champagne, as it is an incredibly affordable (cheap!) sparkling white wine bottled right here in Quebec. you can buy it—along with a decent assortment of other affordable wines—at your local dépanneur (which is Montreal for bodega... which is New York City for convenience store). seriously, any white wine will do, and i suspect beer would work equally fine.

add the chicken pieces to the heated pan, and cook undisturbed for approximately eight to ten minutes (depending on size and thickness). this is a good time to grab a glass and have a splash of that affordable champagne sparkling white wine.

flip the chicken, and wait another eight to ten minutes...

then pour in some of the bubbly.

i did not measure, but there was about a cup and a half of wine added to the pan. the objective is to have enough liquid for about five mins of cooking.

it looks pretty yummy at this point, but we need to finish cooking the chicken and reduce the wine to make the tastiest sauce imaginable.

you can either stick it into a hot oven, or cover the pan and finish cooking on the stove. it was not worth the trouble to heat the oven, so i covered it with foil and left it on simmer for about five minutes (peering in once or twice to make sure the wine had not evaporated completely and adding a small splash as needed).

when the chicken is ready to go, grab that jar of pesto from the fridge...

and add a dollop to the reduced wine sauce.

swirl/tilt the pan to combine, and spoon the heavenly nectar over the pieces of chicken.

then grab a plate and enjoy!

for the most enjoyment possible, serve with pasta tossed with even more pesto. you will thank me in the morning.