Today’s fig-related transactions
September 1, 2005
Went to bum a cigarette from my kitchen garden neighbour AlGouche,
and was invited to sit around eating figs and play with Abel’s toes for awhile (Abel is 3 months old, so it’s OK).
Received a fig tree as a present from Abel’s parents, Amad & Lila,
and gave them some leafy greens.
Gave some tomatoes to neighbour Patrick across the stone wall,
and was given a huge jar of fig preserves that utterly rocked my world.
Inquired whether Patrick would like an assortment of leafy greens from my kitchen garden,
and received an apple on top of the wall, which I think was an ‘exchange-a-thon’ joke.
It’s not really apple season yet.
Gave Patrick an assortment of leafy greens.
Gave Mme Afkir an assortment of leafy greens.
Have decided that tomorrow while watering the Family Afkir’s kitchen garden, I will eat some of their figs when no one is watching.
images t to b: the gifted fig tree (black figs of yet unkonwn variety), corn stalks drying and all my leafy greens thriving, divvying up the leafy greens for those that want them:
debra at 0:23 | Comments (1) | post to del.icio.us
Subsistance farming can be so romantic
August 30, 2005
… if you only have to do it for a week. The long and short of it is that whilst living in the yurt, Lad and I didn’t end up doing a whole heq of a lot of cooking, preferring instead to eat what fell into our mouths, right out of the hands that fed us. In the Occitanian summer that means raspberries, and yes, lots of leafy greens.
After the buzz of the new and the raw wore off, we did eventually develop a hunquering for heated food. Turns out that like most lads, mine knows how to BBQ, and is thankfully not averse to grilling a radish (or an ear of corn). We BBQ’d inside the yurt because the mercury did actually drop below 22°c at one point and we feared we might get the wrong kind of shivers.
Our favourite dish was a sorrel omelette prepared with Brillat-Savarin creamy cheese. Now I, in all my decades have never actually heard of a guy liking sorrel, or at least one willing to take it full on and fake it for an entire week. So for the time being, this spells blessing-counting time.
And oh how we turned eating my garden’s first tomato into a wondrous ritual. Amen.
images from l to r: Lad eating from the hand that feeds him, domestic work-related gender issues au plein air, leafy green grower talks to leafy green eater about soil tillability (although clearly, Monsieur C. is tucking into more than just leafy greens!)
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debra at 11:44 | Comments (0) | post to del.icio.us
Happy spoon
August 29, 2005
Yurt down, lad gone, summer’s end. You can hardly blame a gal for eating choco-hazelnut paste straight out of the jar. The spoon came out of my mouth making a mockery of my attempt at food-medicating.
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debra at 14:37 | Comments (1) | post to del.icio.us
