no regrets...

[my dream of composing a new post every day this week did not go quite as planned. oh well... life goes on.]

we live with two cats. i would not go so far as to claim them as property, as i feel more owned than owning on an average day. still, they are my two best girls, and they seem to be of the firm opinion that my balcony garden is their private space.

Baby Bear is content to lay in the fresh air, watching the wildlife flutter by...

... but i am certain that Mama Kitty hears the voice of David Attenborough narrating her adventures. "here we see the elder majestic hunter using the natural foliage for cover as she lays in wait for her prey". it sounds far better than "she is napping between the celery and the beans, waiting to scare off any pigeons that land on the rail". if only i could convince her to show the same territorial spirit where the squirrels are concerned.

we started the balcony garden project with zero objectives in mind, other than to add some element of amusement to the mundanity of everyday life. the potato plants are still lush and green, while the eggplant leaves are approaching the size of dinner plates.

however, we have seen very little by way of produce thus far. unless, of course, you count the many zucchini blossoms. the zukes were starting to show signs of powdery mildew, so we decided to cut out the plants before it had a chance to spread. this is literally the last of this year's squash blossom harvest. so much sadness.

on the up side, we have been eating lots of yummy herb-flavored things. in addition to the odd sprig of thyme, oregano, or rosemary tossed into a sauce, i have been thinning out the Genovese Basil, which is a great excuse for making pesto (a pasta-sauce/sandwich-spread/salad-dressing that, in my humble opinion, deserves its own tier on the food pyramid)...

...and deadheading the Thai Basil, the flowers of which will be added to a delicious coconut milk curry in the next day or two.

the weather has been all over the place this summer, going from a steaming thirty-something degrees (C) one day to the low-teens the next. the plants would practically double in size on the hotter days, then show zero sign of growth when the temperature drops off. i am used to growing vegetables in the middle of Brooklyn, NYC, which is its own micro-zone that is usually several degrees warmer than the surrounding region. getting used to the conditions in Montreal has proven to be the biggest challenge of this adventure. while i have no regrets about the time (or money) invested thus far, i was beginning to question whether i wanted to do it again next year.


then the beans began to flower...

and, before i knew it, the first pods started to appear.

and, yes, they do turn that beautiful, deep-purple color as the beans grow (sadly, the color disappears when they are cooked). so, now i am already looking forward to next summer, which is the best possible outcome of any adventure.

oh, about that Berry Minty Lemon Sorbet i mentioned last time around? a day or two ago, i was stumbling groggily toward the bedroom for a mid-afternoon nap, when i heard the voice of my favorite animator echoing down the hall. "if you want to take a picture of that sorbet, you better do it now, 'cause it will probably be gone by the time you wake up". pretty much.

in-house insanity...

[apologies to all three of my regular readers for the un-planned, un-announced absence while i pondered the state of humanity. conclusion? not good. however, in the ongoing effort to post weekly, i will (attempt to) make up for the skipped entries over the next few (or several) days.]


i always joked that a deep-fryer would be the single worst gadget to have in-house. it is an open invitation to insanity of the worst kind. sure, you may start off with the usual things (assorted chicken parts, deconstructed potatoes, etc.), then you start tossing small pieces of bread into hot oil (because owning a deep-fryer is sure to spawn an intense fondness for freshly-made croutons on everything from salads to bowls of cereal), and before you know it, you are on the slippery slope to deep-fried double-chocolate brownie donuts. so, nope... no deep-fryers for me. we did, however, take the path of (slightly) less insanity and purchase an ice cream/sorbet maker. i had an ice cream maker back in my salad days, but i mostly used that to freeze Jello (sounds crazy, but make a pack of jello, skip the fridge, and process it in an ice cream maker for a yummy treat with a satiny-smooth texture). this time around, i wanted something a bit more grown up for the inaugural batch. behold... mango, cardamom, ginger sorbet!!! exactly!

i tend to use brown sugar for every thing, but i decided (after much deliberation) to get some white sugar for this adventure, thus embarking on my own slippery slope. i made a stock solution of simple syrup (equal parts sugar and water) infused with some cardamom pods and a few slices of ginger (not pictured)

while the syrup cooled, i blended the flesh of three ripe mangoes along with some mango juice (it was actually a blend of mango, orange, and white grape juices, if you want to get technical). the resulting puree was very smooth, but i strained it for good measure, grated in a bit of lemon zest, then sweetened it to taste with the syrup, chilled the mixture, and processed it in the machine according the to manufacturer's instructions. the worst part is the wait. it only took about twenty minutes to get to the soft-serve stage in the machine, but you are instructed to transfer it to a storage container and place it in the freezer to complete the firming-up process. i admit to being a bit impatient, but my favorite animator was like a kid waiting to open gifts on Christmas morning. some hours later, we had sorbet. yay!!!

i had some right out of the freezer...

but he comes from a place i like to call Absurdia, so he waited until it got melty (his word, not mine) before diving in.

the verdict: so very good. i especially like that i can adjust the sweetness level to suit my own taste (as i tend to like things on the less-sweet side), and the flavorants added depth without overshadowing the natural goodness of the mango.

i already had plans for the next batch, so i grabbed some fresh mint, scrunched the leaves in my hand to facilitate maximum flavor release, and added it to the remaining ginger-cardamom syrup.

i transferred the whole thing to a container (actually, a recycled pasta sauce jar that had been thoroughly washed and sterilized in boiling water, if you want to get technical) with the intention of keeping it in the fridge until i was ready for the next run.... which turned out to be the very next day.

hopefully i will remember to take a photo or two of the berry minty lemon sorbet before it is all gone, and i am already envisioning an ice cream adventure that involves coconut milk, fresh cherries... and a super-hot oven!!! what could possibly go wrong?

i need to be stopped...

i am enterprising on a new obsession, but it requires a bit of history to explain. last year, we were inundated with beets from the summer/fall CSA farmshare, so i had to find many ways to use them before they went off. problem was, i am the only person around here who likes beets, and then, only once in a very blue moon. i was able to put the leafy tops to use as "sauteed greens" (and they really are quite tasty as such), but there was no amount of magic that would make the bulbous roots any more appealing to my favorite animator. enter pickled beets.

i did not want to buy a bunch of canning equipment (canner, jars, rubberized gripper thingy for moving hot jars) just to produce a few quarts of pickles. luckily, there is a lazy approach to doing everything. i purchased a few large jars of the type that are usually used to display dry goods (pasta, beans, that sort of nonsense), and i skipped the hot water bath used in canning and settled for fuss-free refrigerator pickles. i boiled, peeled and sliced the beets, then layered them with sliced onions, a few sprigs of fresh herbs, and some pickling spices. i made a hot solution of vinegar, water, and salt, filled the jars with the mixture, and left them to cool to room temperature before placing the jars in the fridge. after several days, i speared a slice on a fork and presented it to my favorite animator for tasting. (once we got past the many goofy faces of protest) he nibbled the very edge of the disc, chewed a few times, then opened wide and grabbed the rest of the slice from the fork. yep... he was hooked.

fast-forward to the present, and he has already put in a request for pickled beets for the upcoming season. naturally, i see this as an opportunity to delve deeper into the world of canning (and as an excuse to buy some proper equipment). unfortunately, attempting to learn more about preserving and storing food is like throwing yourself down a rabbit hole and emerging in Prepperland. i have absolutely nothing against being prepared for emergencies—some of my favorite people have basements that look like supermarket aisles—but the SHTF rhetoric tends to inspire overzealousness (bordering on straight-up insanity) in individuals who seem more than willing to press the self-destruct button, just to put their "plan" to the test. seriously, it is scary at times. one minute you are reading a relatively sane post about food preservation, and a minute later, you are eyeball-deep in comments about chemtrails, mind control, and every manner of global conspiracy. i just want to eat tasty pickles and maybe make some jam. i am not stockpiling for World War III.

so, there i was, weeping for the future of humanity, while browsing for books on Amazon and simultaneously cycling through many tabs opened to assorted food storage websites, when it hit me: i need to be stopped. i tend to preface every new activity with tons of research, which (inevitably) leads to the need to purchase ALL the equipment, because that is how my brand of OCD works. it would be acceptable (or even useful) if i had an acre or two worth of produce to 'put up' for the winter, but i am likely going to buy a couple bags of  beets and amuse myself for an evening turning them into pickles. period. this does not require collecting more junk equipment in my already crowded kitchen cupboards. beyond that, i blinked for a minute and found myself looking at vacuum sealers. makes sense. if you are gonna go, may as well go all the way, right? seriously... i need to be stopped.

elsewhere, i am gearing up for marathon amounts of summer reading. as a general rule, i pick a theme (or author) and roll with that for the season. i decided to take a break from cozy-mysteries, and try a bit of fantasy for a change. i started reading Raymond E. Feist back in high school, and i always intended to read the rest of the Riftwar cycle, so i am returning to the very beginning with the Magician novel(s).

i am also drooling over Making, a new-to-the-market, multi-craftual magazine.
 

the first issue has a "flora" theme, while the second issue (due out later this year) will have a "fauna" theme.

there are recipes, line drawings (of the 'adult coloring book' variety), and assorted craft projects, including beading, embroidery, and these super-cute sewn/quilted coasters.

however, Making is first and foremost a knitting magazine. the Editor (and resident Photographer) is knitwear designer Carrie Bostick Hoge. i love the simplicity of her garments, several of which are on my must-knit-before-i-die list [notably, the Shoals Tank, Maeve shrug, Maude cardi, and Portland Pullover]. while the magazine features projects from several designers, i found myself swooning over one by CBH herself. there i was, perusing the preview images, when i came across the Branches & Buds Pullover, and i gasped audibly. it is even more charming in hard-copy. i need this sweater in my life!

we found this vintage copy of the Better Homes & Gardens Sewing Book at the used bookstore, and it was a must-have for my craft library. it was originally published in the nineteen hundred and sixties (that does sound ancient), but it is a timeless reference of basic and advanced techniques that should come in very handy.

then, just as i pulled the last book from the pile and started snapping away, my camera lost power. some may say the battery went dead, but i have read enough of this book to recognize the first stages of an assault. clearly, the garden gnomes do not want me to share this truth with the rest of the world. seems i may need to reconsider the prepper lifestyle after all.

on a parting note, i was sorting through a batch of photos earlier today, when my attention was drawn to an odd repetitive noise. it stopped after a second or two, so i returned to sorting... and there it was again, a noise coming from outside, but in decidedly close proximity. this was the point when i tossed aside the librarian glasses, grabbed the nearest cat (that being the little grey one, as the other one was too busy napping to get involved), and bolted toward the balcony. a tiny head popped up among the greenery, and i responded by shoving the cat through the door, in the general direction of the trespasser. then my cat, my bestest best girl, sat down on her haunches and proceeded to lick herself thoroughly, while the squirrel looked on with curiosity from the railing. having concluded that my cats are completely useless, i was forced to resort to harsher methods. why was i squirting hot sauce on the balcony and sprinkling chili powder on soil, you ask? chemical warfare, i reply. wish me luck.

(at least) a million bucks...

yes, this is technically last week's post. in my defense, i had absolutely nothing positive to say last week, and this was not the appropriate forum for airing that diatribe. that being said, short(ish) post today. the feels-like temperature is rapidly approaching 'surface of the sun' hotness, which is only made worse by any physical activity beyond the necessary intake of breath. good times. did i mention that we have no AC (and i keep vetoing every suggestion of buying one)? good times indeed.

so, there i was this morning, staring acrophobia in the face just long enough to water the plants, when i discovered something wondrous and new. if a giant meteor fell through the sky at that moment, totally obliterating our little rock, i would have gone out feeling like i accomplished the most awesome thing in the entire history of mankind. ladies and gentlemen, that is a zucchini growing in a plastic bucket on my tiny balcony. thank you. thank you very much. no, please... hold the applause.

i worked at a botanic(al) garden for years, where i was paid to teach outdoor vegetable gardening classes, so i recognize the absurdity of my excitement over this non-event. it is just a zucchini. it is not even some tricky variety that requires around-the-clock chanting in some obscure language in order to grow in this climate. say it with me, people: it is just a zucchini! however, after collecting so many male blossoms over the past several weeks that i eventually gave up and left them to wilt on the plants, i took a peek under a leaf today, and there was one girl waiting to greet me. forget The $64 Tomato. this zuke is worth at least a million bucks... at least!

on the other side of life, my favorite animator has hung out the 'gone fishing' sign on the in-home studio, so we are in chilling-extra-hard mode for the next month... or two (... or possibly three). of course, there is a heatwave blanketing the area, and they are predicting all sorts of record highs for this summer, so i anticipate that a large chunk of that time will be spent doing nothing at all. bliss. beyond that, we still need to paint our place (a task that was supposed to be completed when we moved last year), and we have a writing project that has been put on hold for far too long, so hopefully we will accomplish something productive during the downtime. or, maybe we will spend most of it visiting the many fabric shops around town (because, after watching marathon amounts of The Great British Sewing Bee, he has decided that i really need to teach him how to sew... seriously). until then, i am going to refill my glass, add a few ice cubes to the cats' water bowl, and maybe grab a spoonful (or two) of ice cream... solely to keep my core temperature in check, of course. best heatwave ever!

stara...

we have arrived, once again, at that very distressing time of year when i start hearing voices calling to me from the corner of the room. "is it house elves or poltergeists", you ask? "far worse... it is a box of watercolor supplies", i reply.

despite last summer's vow to disband the Wednesday Watercolor Society, i have decided to return for more ego-crushing fun—though i should admit that i did the painting on a Wednesday, thereby breaking the one rule of that most noble organization. 

while i stress the fact that i am aware that i have less-than-zero skill at painting (or drawing, or even the fine art of paint-by-numbers), i was not disgusted by this latest effort, which is highly unusual given my usual performance. i would go so far as to suggest that i have shown some (microscopically marginal) improvement since the previous attempt. i was so pleased not-disappointed with the latest result that i grabbed more paper and gave it another try. i will spare you the horror of gazing upon the whole thing, but i did rather like the look of that section of sky. the artist-in-residence kept checking on my progress and he even commented that it was "a really good sky". as in life,  you have to celebrate the small victories. 

not wanting to pack away the brushes on such a low note, i cut a postcard-sized piece of paper and did a quick sketch of some birches. okay, so it is still not particularly good, but birches are awesome. small victories. 

my favorite animator has promised to join me at the next Society meeting. we have already settled on the theme of flowers, as i currently have a heap of mixed blossoms for inspiration. i especially liked the look of the colored orchids, so i separated them from the crowd and took many photos for future reference.  

so very pretty. 

on a tangentially-related note, i had another birthday this past week, sparking someone's insistence on calling me stara ("old woman" in Croatian). there was cake—red velvet to be precise—but no candles, because i do not need a massive fire hazard to remind me of my ever-advancing ancientness. [total aside, it is really hard to take a picture when you have a camera in one hand and a you are trying to balance a towering slice of cake with the other hand.]

since i was already biting the proverbial bullet wheat-wise, we decided to go all in and get dinner from our fave Italian restaurant in the neighborhood. for once i remembered to take antihistamines before coming into contact with the forbidden grain, so this year's celebration was free of regret, and a fantastic meal was enjoyed by all. 

in other news, there was finally a glimmer of hope when i spotted tiny girl zukes attached to some of the flower buds. i was feeling mighty proud of myself, while he was busy planning future meals... then the overnight temperature plunged down to the mid-single-digits (which is like mid-to-low 40's, for my fellow Americans). since then, it has been chilly, blustery, and mostly-overcast. i hope it warms up again for the sake of the plants, but, i would be very okay with a chilly summer. now, i am going to make a cup of tea, climb under a warm blanket, and resume my marathon-watching of the Great British Bakeoff. i am still working on season one. no spoilers, please.