My Lovely Patch of Wilderness

I haphazardly planted herbs and vegetables this year (and a few impatiens). Last year was such a disaster what with the chiggers, lead contamination, snakes, overabundance of weeds and no tomatoes to speak of. Scoring the current apartment almost makes last year's ordeal worth it. Our current landlord fixes things AND has someone mow the lawn every week. Amazing. Our neighbors are fantastic: Pat gave me tips about weeds and has extended an open invitation for wine at his and his wife's fire pit; Eric the chef had a block party and loans me tools; and Patrick helped me push my car out of the snow. The only ones I'm not fond of are the downstairs neighbors who still use our dryer but no longer have loud sex (thanks to our awesome landlord). In fact, Amanda found a ginormous pair of men's underwear in the dryer that she tried to explain away as one of our friend's until she realize how big it was at which point she tossed it quickly on their washer.

I have got to get over it, but everything they do irks me: the dryer, the satellite dish, hideous lawn ornaments (an angry dog gargoyle, mushrooms and a stone starfish) and running the air conditioner when it's 70 degrees outside. Truly, now that they don't keep me awake at night, they keep to themselves, so it's not big deal. I hardly ever see them even though I'm out weeding in the backyard daily. They probably think I'm this crazy girl who hangs her washing on the line and is obsessed with her plants. It's true I'm totally obsessed.

I give Amanda and my mom daily updates on the progress of the plants. The tomatoes all have flowers and one even has the teeniest tiniest tomato. There is a little bity cucumber. And the herbs (dill, cilantro, rosemary, sage, thyme and two kinds of basil) are proliferating. The basil leaves are humongous and, come last weekend, were in desperate need of pruning. I could practically hear them speaking to me, "Pesto, we would make the best pesto. Put us in a bruschetta. Tear us into a tomato salad. Please, anything." Without ripe tomatoes, pesto was the best choice. I paired it with cream cheese and crackers at a barbecue, and it disappeared.

Pesto recipe here. I added a teaspoon or so of lemon juice to give it some zing.

Pesto Pasta

Tomatoes are finally edible--though not any from my garden. But what is doing well in my garden are the herbs. The caterpillars have been focusing their energy on the viney plants and have largely ignored the fragrant basil, parsely, oregano and rosemary. Sitting out on my back porch eating this plate of pasta, I realized that I just might be one of those "granola" people (aside from the cannabis smoking). I spotted a caterpillar resting on one of my flowering plants (the name of which I can't recall) and I let it live, thinking that it will go into its cocoon pretty soon anyway and would then entertain me as a butterfly (or more likely annoy me as a moth but whatever). My basil plant, up until last night, was covered in leaves all of them tantalizing me with their aroma. Yes, it was time for some pesto--pesto being the sole purpose for growing basil in the first place. Pesto incorporates all things I love (or at least quite a few of them) including basil, garlic, pine nuts (which I could eat by the handful) and parmesan cheese. So simple. Pesto and tomatoes scream summer to me. It's got all the flavor and all the color.

Basic Pesto: 2 cups fresh basil leaves, packed 1/3 cup pine nuts 1 clove garlic 1/2 teaspoon salt 1/4 teaspoon pepper 1/2 cup parmesan cheese In a food processor, pulse basil, pine nuts and garlic. Add salt and pepper and pulse again. While blending, slowly add olive oil until the mixture is creamy and smooth. Remove from processor and put in a bowl. Add parmesan cheese and stir to mix. You may need to add salt and pepper to taste.

Serve with capellini pasta and freshly diced Roma tomatoes. (Pesto is also great on turkey sandwiches.)

Jenny, My Food Partner in Crime

Jenny was always my food buddy. We will both eat pretty much anything and would often end up spliting meals, such as at the Grand Luxe in Chicago or at Il Spazio (affectionately referred to as The Spaz) in Kirksville, Mo. It was Jenny who also taught me not to scrape the tongs of my fork on my teeth when eating--now I hate when people do that too. We had a lot of memories in the kitchen of that freezing, old house on Jefferson--staying up late eating peanut butter and chocolate chips and talking about boys. Ahhh, the good ol' days. So it's only fitting that Jenny help bolster the content of this blog from afar. It's almost as good as a late-night laugh-fest. Almost. The top photo is of potato soup, modified from something on Allrecipes.com. Looks perty, don't it.

And here we have one of Jenny's trademarks: pesto pasta. She loves it. And actually, the recipe reminisces the best pasta dish ever that we shared at the aforementioned Grand Luxe Cafe.

Potato Soup: 3/4 cup chopped celery 1/4 cup chopped onion 1 15-ounce can chicken stock 5 peeled and cubed russet potatoes 2 teaspoons flour 1/2 package ranch dressing mix 1 cup half and half 1/2 cup sour cream sprinkle of bacon bits and cheddar cheese Cook down onions and celery until tender in a pot. Add chicken broth, about a 1/4 cup water and potatoes and boil until potatoes are tender. Reduce heat and mash about 1/3 of the potatoes in the pot (or food processor would probably work too). In a bowl, combine flour and ranch mix, then whisk in the half and half and sour cream. Add the mixture into the soup, stirring. Once combined, heat soup for another minute or so and remove from heat. Season with salt and pepper and parsley. Serve and sprinkle with bacon bits and cheese. Pesto Pasta: 1 regular-size package shell or bow tie pasta 1 15-ounce can artichoke hearts 1/2 cup fresh mushrooms (chopped) 1/2 cup tomato pesto dressing 1/4 cup crumbled feta cheese Cook pasta according to directions on box. Heat artichokes and mushrooms in a small pan until mushrooms are tender (use 1 tablespoon of butter as a saute). Drain pasta and add it to mushroom/artichokes and add dressing with heat on low. Top with feta and serve. I couldn't decide what photo to leave you with: cute or funny, funny or cute? I went with funny (I must have a thing with embarassing my friends). This photo is from last year's New Year's party. Good times. There were way too many cameras documenting that night.