There are a handful of recipes I wait to prepare each summer. I just think it's better that way. A whole three quarters of the year spent deprived of grilled pineapples and suddenly I'm in heaven, transported by caramelized tropical fruit. I know that the benefit of being alive in the post-industrial age means I have access to all these summer ingredients in wintertime, but there's something seasonally rhythmic that makes sense to me. Winter soups, stews, biscuits, comfort food nourish my cold body and soul. These summer recipes are packed full of easily-digested nutrients that fuel my long runs and hydrate me when it's thirty degrees in the backyard shade.
So we've been all up in our basil plants, harvesting and consuming within an hour of each other. Today's concoction was green dressing over quinoa pasta salad, all fresh ingredients. Abby and I bought cherry tomatoes and cucumbers at the farmer's stand down the street. Our own tomatoes are a bunch of plump, fist-sized green orbs on the cusp of turning red. Yesterday we ate those delicious, pictured pineapples and peppers diced into a salsa with fresh cilantro, onions and lime juice squeezed by Abby's little hands.
When we aren't gorging on fresh produce, we are walking. Walking to the park, to the store and, in some cases, on our fat bare feet across the kitchen floor. Summer is motoring along (both the baby and the season).
We're putting good things in our bodies and I am seeing some amazing, creative things spewing forth from my girls' minds. Robin comes up with some pretty sweet song and dance numbers, Hailey gets her dolls involved in some very crazy scenarios, Summer has begun scribbling and wearing fun hats and Abby has been pairing drawing with poems she writes on the spot. It amazes me. Yesterday she drew ocean waves and seabirds from Maine, then drew a surfer she told me was Grama (my mom) and performed a poem, rhythmic, with cadence, about the feeling of ocean water.