Apple Snob

There it is then. Out in the open. I have favorites. We all do. Mine is the juicy, sweet, tang of a firm-fleshed Crispin. I get them from a local orchard; the grocery store does not sell them. (Do not be confused with Honey Crisp which the stores do sell; they are not the same thing.) When they are in season I eat them a lot. More than that, I hold off buying any fall apples until the Crispins are ready in mid-October. They are the BEST eating apple. Of course you can cook with them, but why? One drawback, is that they are HUGE. So you might want to share. My favorite afternoon snack is a sliced Crispin with a nice sharp Irish cheddar cheese.

In terms of cooking, I usually use a combo of Granny Smith and Golden Delicious for pie and McIntoch for crisp.

Do you have a favorite apple?

Cherry Tomatoes

It has started. The cherry tomatoes are getting out of hand. Although my sister, Master Gardener Extraordinaire, told me that cherry tomatoes are indeterminate and will just keep on growing until frost; I just rolled my eyes and fluffed her off. I went ahead and planted 4 red cherry tomato plants and 1 yellow. Yowza! What was I thinking. We are now in August and I am picking a bowlful every morning. I like them, I really do, but for heavens sake how many can 1 person eat. Thank your lucky stars you are not a neighbor. I will be ringing doorbells and abandoning my adorable tomato children on doorsteps very soon. Do you think I need to put bonnets on them to encourage adoption?

HHH

Ah, the 3 H’s--hazy, hot and humid. My 3 favorite words. Apparently, I, alone in the universe, love the heat. Summer is my favorite season. I love lying on top of the covers with the window fan blowing cool night air over me. I love summer’s warm embrace as I walk outside after work frozen from my chilly office. I love the hot blast of air ruffling my hair as I drive down the highway with all the windows down and the music blaring. I love sitting on the back deck with a sweating glass of gin and tonic listening to the tree frogs. I love watching the bats flutter through the air snapping up the biting insects on warm summer evenings. I love getting up before the heat rises and watering the garden in my housedress and that the neighbors think it’s OK. I love the cool feel of the tiles on my bare feet. I love a big bowl of icy watermelon for lunch. I love the sun on my head. There is nothing about the heat that I do not like. (Uh, well, I do not like sunburn. And I do not love sweating. And you have to make sure to dress for it. And I did think I was going to suffocate once in Managua.)

But having said all that, remember, I live on a mountain where it never gets hot enough to need A/C but every room has a ceiling fan. I leave folded comforters on the foot of the beds, because you will need to pull them up in the dead of the night, even in July. We often sit wrapped in blankets late on summer evenings around the fire pit roasting marshmallows or passing a bottle of Hypnotiq. It is never too hot to eat outdoors and the cold waters of the lake are down the road. Summer on the mountain is fleeting, but spectacular.

City sidewalks, Busy sidewalks

I stepped out of the hotel into the bustle of Michigan Avenue. In the air there was a feeling of Christmas. I could see it. I could feel it. There were crowds of people clutching shopping bags in both hands crossing the street. There were Salvation Army bell ringers wearing their Santa hats. The stores were decorated with Christmas trees and garland, their windows filled with manikins in finery, outerwear or the latest fashion. The shoppers were strolling bundled against the cold wind with their children peeking out of their wrappings. I joined the flow; let it draw me up the street.

The excitement on the street was palpable. The Lights Festival would start at 6pm. It is the only parade I know of that is at night. The kids on the street were laughing, people passing them by with smiles. Excitement was building. Santa would be there of course, but best of all, Mickey Mouse would wave his wand and the lights along the avenue would magically light up.

I had been struggling. The holiday season was approaching and I couldn’t get with it. I don’t know if it was the warm weather, my crazy schedule of late or the general humbug that was going around. I had heard many people say they were not in the spirit. Well, my friends, I found mine on Michigan Avenue in Chicago.