The days are long...but at least there's Tahini, Lemon and Dill Dressing

Since the boys arrived on the scene one of the phrases I think of most often is, "The days are long; the years are short."  Well these days of intense heat and drought and "whatcanwedoooooo?' have been really really very extremely long.  They're refusing all offers to go to camp.  Any camp.  Swimming and tennis lessons are over.  I looked at my watch yesterday thinking SURELY it was dinner time...it was 3:30 p.m.  Even here at del Boca Vista, that's a bit early.  

I was needing an activity last week when the temperature was around 100 degrees and the pool would've been miserably crowded.  Plus I would come into contact with at least one stray band-aid.  There's little that grosses me out more than stray band-aids.  (We just got Angry Birds band-aids and the incidence of band-aid needing injuries spiked 165% 'round these parts.)

Anyway, inspiration struck and here's what H. occupied himself with for a almost an hour.  

Look at that smile!  He was thrilled.  It was totally not like the time I asked them if they wanted to go someplace really special and fun (the zoo) and D. got really excited and asked, "Like TARGET?"  That was kind of sad.  But H. loves vacuuming.  Asks to do it all the time.  It's all I can do do muzzle an exuberant, "YESSSS!" when he asks.  Now for the other 13 hours to fill...

Beets from the garden.

I've been occupying myself with these gorgeous beets from my garden.  If I were to write like I spoke, the above caption would read, "BEEEEETS FROM MYYYY GARDEN!!!!!!!!!!" As though I invented the damn things.  Carter learned his lesson about my profound and perhaps disproportionate excitement at what the garden has produced on his birthday.  The timing was maybe unfortunate but I took the first perfectly ripe cherry tomato, hid it behind my back and said, "I've got a very exciting surprise for you!"  Turns out we have differing descriptions of "very exciting."  And also "surprise." To his credit, he recovered quickly and pretended to love that birthday tomato as much as I loved presenting it to him.   

This evening's dinner - for me - was a roasted beet and spinach salad with toasted walnuts and goat cheese.  Not much of a goat cheese fan, except when it's paired with beets.  It was really good and made even better by my new obsession: Tahini, Lemon and Dill dressing.

Tahini, Lemon and Dill Salad Dressing

1/4 C. Tahini

1/4 C. water 

Juice and zest of 1 lemon

1 clove garlic, minced

2 tablespoons chopped dill

1 tablespoon chopped chives

2 teaspoons sugar or honey

Salt and pepper to taste

Is there a fair around here where I can enter these beauties?  Feeling new-gardener confidence...

Dinner for the boys (they had their new favorite and super easy pasta which I will share at some point, probably when school starts) and myself was finished and cleaned up by six o'clock.  This summer I am one giant white visor away from retirement.  Del Boca Vista indeed.  

Roasted Potato, Corn and Tomato Salad, a.k.a. Leah Fantasia Supreme

One summer in high school I worked at a little sandwich shop.  It was owned by a vaguely shady Portuguese man and, looking back, was probably some kind of shell operation or front for illegal goings-on.  Part of why I think that is because he gave me, as a 16 or 17 year old kid, an inordinate amount of responsibility. And also he didn't seem to care in the least whether or not the shop turned a profit, which now seems strange. I had keys to the place and often opened or closed by myself.  He let me name the sandwiches and even make new ones to put on the menu.  The shop was down the street from a restaurant called the Canadian Honker so I made a sandwich and called it the American Bonker.  Oh the joy it gave me to share a knowing nod when someone got the joke. And what a joke it was! Hilarious knee-slapper, I know.

You know how sometimes you're so familiar with something that you don't realize it's weird?  For example, growing up my family always had tacos with french fries. Not until adulthood when I was telling someone how my mom made the best homemade fries and we had them every taco night did I realize it was strange.  It helped that my friend let me know in no uncertain terms that serving french fries with tacos was bat-shit crazy. It wasn't until I wrote about the American Bonker that I realized what a thoroughly horrid name Canadian Honker is for a restaurant.  Awful.  Even if there were a lot of Canadian geese in town, come on.

There was a hair salon in Chicago called Blood, Sweat and Shears which might surpass Canadian Honker in the Hall of Bad Business Names, but not by much.  Note to those naming a business: don't include the words blood, sweat or honker.  Now, I'm no M.B.A. but I'm guessing there's a course covering that little kernel of truth.  However, the Hairport, if located anywhere near an airport, is a totally acceptable name for a salon.

Anyway, I was drinking an Arnie Palmer (the finest of summertime drinks) one day when the owner came in and asked what I was drinking.  I told him it was iced tea and lemonade and offered a taste.  He was a fan and asked what it was called.  Because I was 16 or 17 I told him it was called the Leah Fantasia Supreme.  He had me put it on the menu.  Customers would say, "Isn't that just an Arnold Palmer?" and I would reply "not here."

So last week I was making beef kabobs with yogurt herb sauce and needed a side dish.  I roasted some potatoes and tomatoes, cut some corn off the cob and tossed it with a bunch of basil and a super light and lemony vinaigrette.  It turned out pretty good.  A keepah as they would say in Rhode Island. Carter's dad was over and asked what the dish was called.  Roasted potato, corn, tomato and basil salad was a bit mundane so I reincarnated the Leah Fantasia Supreme.  My stories are rich in meaning.

Potatoes (that remained after I snacked) and corn.

Done.

Roasted Potato, Corn and Tomato Salad (for six)

3 ears of corn, cooked and cut off the cob
1 lb. chopped (about 3/4") red potatoes
1 pint cherry tomatoes
1/2 cup basil leaves, chopped

3 tablespoons olive oil
2 tablespoons cider vinegar
2 tablespoons lemon juice
salt and pepper

Coat a sheet pan with a little olive oil and roast the tomatoes in a 250-degree oven for 2-3 hours.  Yes it's a long time, but they are so much better when cooked slowly.  And lowly.

Put roasted tomatoes in a bowl and use the same sheet pan, coated anew with oil if needed, and add the potatoes.  Increase oven temperature to 350 and roast tomatoes until crisp and browned, about 30-40 minutes.

Combine oil, vinegar, lemon juice and salt and pepper.  Place roasted potatoes and corn in a serving bowl, add basil and vinaigrette, stir to combine.  Add tomatoes last because they're fragile little creatures (just like me) and gently incorporate.

I'll be making this salad all summer.  Which officially begins for us at noon on Friday.  GACK.  No, it will be fun...it will be fun...it will be fun...

 

I have yet to kill my gardenia topiaries.  Calling CNN right now.  The end.  

Watermelon, Feta and Cilantro Salad. Plus how I feel about birds.

A few years back my friend Heather sent me a "recipe" for a salad she raved about.  I was dubious.  Her concoction:  Throw a bunch of chopped seedless watermelon into a big bowl with a handful of chopped cilantro, about the same amount of Feta, some chopped red onion and a big squeeze of lime.  

Ah, yes, that's why we're friends.  As she'd never steered me wrong, I gave it a whirl and it was great.  I'd forgotten about it completely until I found myself last weekend with a big watermelon and a need for a side dish.  

Every so often we let the boys take turns in planning our meals for the day.  It's usually a Sunday and we usually let them only pick the main course for dinner.  Because one can have only so many pancakes in a 24-hour period.  So last Sunday was D.'s turn and he wanted ribs.  I looked at Carter suspiciously then I looked at D. and asked if anyone had influenced him in his decision.  Maybe I should've been a detective?  I mean, perhaps I've been watching too much True Crime, but I think I nailed that interrogation.  Anyway, he claimed he had arrived at the decision by himself.  So I made ribs.  And cornbread muffins.  And corn on the cob.  I needed to round out the meal with something light and lively so I rethought Heather's salad.  Something light and tinged with citrus to go with the heavy ribs and buttery corn?  Perfect.  

Watermelon, Feta and Cilantro Salad (for 6 as a side dish)

5 cups cubed seedless watermelon

1/3 cup finely crumbled Feta

1/3 cup chopped cilantro

1/3 cup chopped red onion

1/2 lime, juiced (add lime zest for more flavor)

1/2 teaspoon salt

Combine all ingredients in a bowl, give a good stir and refrigerate until serving.  

Reviews

Carter:  "I didn't think I'd like this but I really do."  When I reminded him that was almost exactly the same thing he said when I'd served it three years ago he replied, "Well there you go.  Do I need to be worried about 2015?"

D: "What is that white stuff?"  When I replied: "salty cheese," he was good.   

H: "May I please have another rib instead?"  As he asked politely, we indulged and just gave him a wedge of plain watermelon.

So our family dinners go much more smoothly more than one of us has a hand in planning it.  This one was great.  It was a beautiful evening, we ate outside on our deck.  The jr. eaters were enthusiastic and the talk was lively and not just us telling them to (pick one) chew with their mouths shut, keep their voices below screeching level, elbows off the table, don't say pee/poop/butt at the dinner table, etc.  

What was most annoying at this dinner?  THE BIRDS.  They were so loud in general and we have some mourning doves who are tearing up our deck furniture cushions, ostensibly to build their nests also on our property and to further terrorize us.  They scare me because I think they're going to go after my hair as a nesting material.  Honestly if I were a bird, I probably would.  My hair, while not that attractive as hair, would make a kick-ass bird's nest.  

These are the same birds that have prevented me from hanging baskets on our front porch because they build nests in the baskets and get super territorial when baby hellion mourning doves are concerned.  I do not care for birds.  Especially the pigeon-rat variety of birds.  

Our township had an item on it's voting ballot to allow homeowners to shoot mourning doves as they do game birds.  I voted yes.  Needless to say, it didn't pass.  

I hear you, Betty. (Shooting her neighbor's homing pigeons, one of my favorite moments in television.)

The end.  XOX.