One of the more pleasant perks of having unexpected dinner guests arrive at Les Pierres yesterday, besides of course completely charming company and the possibility of conducting a meaningful conversation with somebody other than Ivory, must be that it sent me into our veggie garden with a more urgent than usual gaze on food, making me notice the newest and impressive growth in the sorrel patch, or what used to be the sorrel patch but has now been overtaken by its wilder relative.
Its baby green leaves effortlessly made for a tasty pesto, combined with toasted cashews, a chunk of fresh lemon, grated hard maple sugar (a Vermont gift that keeps on giving), parmesan, almost runny goats cheese, salt and pepper and obviously real good olive oil. More than anything, this explosion of taste is an attestation of what our garden currently pushes out and it’s such a personal joy for me when people recognise this and rejoice in its palatability.
The rediscovery of Curly Dock’s abundance directed me today in braiding some of its fresh leaves to leave them to dry in the sun, in preparation for the soup I hope to be making coming winter. My technique clearly needs more practise, but Oh, the anticipation! And the delightfulness of one thing leading to another, always connecting what’s important.
