Farmer's Market Sangria

Oh, I wish I took pictures of my projects. I don't, mostly because my life, my apartment, my kitchen, and my dining room table are all a colossal mess that I don't want to subject everyone to the horror of it all. I tell myself it's the nature of moving cross country and unprepared with two young kids. :) Anyway. I decided, some time ago, that I wanted to try making a Farmer's Market Sangria. This may not count as a true sangria, because most of the recipes for sangria I've seen involve citrus fruit of some sort. But this is Pennsylvania, and one thing we don't see locally sourced is citrus. We're just that way. Here's what I suggest trying: *Go to the fruit farmer's tent. Get some berries. I chose strawberries and cherries. *Go to the winery tent. Get a 750mL bottle of a sweet red wine. I chose a blueberry wine that is really fabulous--I mean, so fabulous I think my husband may even voluntarily enjoy a glass. That's...it, really. Pour the wine into a pitcher. Wash and quarter about one and a half cups of strawberries. Add them to the pitcher. Wash and pit about half a cup of cherries. Add THEM to the pitcher. Pop it in the fridge and wait for a few hours so the flavors can mingle a little bit and get to know each other. And--this step is completely optional--add a cup of ginger ale or club soda when you're ready to serve. It was light, flavorful, and cheerful. And I am really sorry, I didn't take pictures of everything.

READ!

Ray Bradbury was 91 years old when he passed away this week, so I think he'd earned the right to a peaceful departure, but his loss is still sharp. Fahrenheit 451...I know a lot of people probably claim to love it, but it's true, I really do love it. (What is it about dystopian novels that draws us in?) Mr. Bradbury once said that it was his only work of science fiction, because it was the one that could truly come to pass. A number of people have argued that that isn't the case, they'd never outlaw books, the whole wraparound television thing isn't coming. What Bradbury was alluding to was much more subtle by today's standards. We see it all the time: someone in line at the grocery store, constantly on the phone because they can't be bothered to actually interact with the person that's standing right in front of them. Constantly texting instead of having dinner with the family. Video games and movies instead of going outside and playing a game of baseball (though given the speed with which people drive, which he ALSO mentioned...) His slippery slope argument is indeed just that, but to a degree, it's already coming true. Books are challenged by groups all the time in an attempt to have them removed from schools or public libraries, because we can't be exposing our children--or anyone else's--to certain ideas. If they read any Harry Potter books, they might get the idea that they can brew potions and such (though good luck finding powdered horn of bicorn). If they read The Grapes of Wrath, they might figure out that life during the depression was not terribly idyllic. If they read What's Happening to my Body?, they might find something out in a way that doesn't make it awkward for them. Are some books dangerous, as the society in Fahrenheit 451 so ardently believes? Maybe. I've read a lot of banned and challenged books, and I've never read one I'd categorize as dangerous. Fire will never destroy them, it matters not how many copies get burned.

Farmer's Market Monday: First day of the season

I love farmer's markets. The people there are just amazing, and the variety of booths...wow. Today the market seemed a bit more expensive than the grocery store. The strawberries were $5 per pound, and at the store they're half that, that sort of thing. It'll get better as summer goes on, of that I am sure. But I did buy a few things. There was a booth run by ladies who were giving away samples of their salsas, and I bought a jar of their Extra Hot (which is, indeed, extra hot--and extra wonderful). I also got a jar of low sugar strawberry jam. Then we wandered over to the area my son kept trying to drag me over to and bought some cookies the size of my head. All over the place people were barbecuing and selling fresh pirogi batches and popping kettle corn...oh I love farmer's markets. I was just a little dismayed at the prices for produce. And local wines. Next time, I'll bring more cash so I can score a bottle. For now, though, I've been contemplating that jar of jam. And the pie crust in the refrigerator that I've got to do something about. And maybe, just maybe, getting some lemon curd tomorrow so I can make lemon strawberry tarts. If they work, you'll be hearing all about them. :)

Ice cream time!

So earlier today, in spite of the cool(ish) and rainy weather, the kids were clamoring for ice cream. And I found all the pieces to my ice cream maker a couple weeks ago. Coincidence? I think not... After a (mostly) failed trip to Jo-ann, I ran to the store and grabbed the ingredients for ice cream. Feeling a little nostalgic, I also picked up some candy to mix into it. I remember making ice cream during the summers when I was growing up. I think my mom did it in part to get us out of the house. But she always, always mixed the custard for vanilla ice cream. And every time, she stopped us halfway through to add broken pieces of Skor bars. Those were her favorite--I never saw her eat one, but every time we made ice cream, we added those toffee bits. Every time we went to Dairy Queen, she got a Heath Bar Blizzard. This time, I chose Mini M&Ms. And the children rejoiced. I admit I cheated--I didn't mix everything from scratch. I bought a packet of Junket Very Vanilla ice cream mix and the ingredients it listed on the label (which amounts to heavy whipping cream and whole milk--neither of which I use much of, so thankfully I can buy it in sufficiently small quantities). Mix and pour into the ice cream maker. Technology makes it so easy and fast. I'm not going to be able to send my kids outside for a few hours to turn the crank on one of those old style ice cream machines unless I get rid of this fancy thing. I may have to find one of those old crank ones, just because it's part of summer that kids shouldn't miss out on. Anyway, the ice cream was faboo. DH actually ate two big bowls full. I think that means I need to make more soon.

Reflections and self-spoiling

Today is my mother's birthday. She would have been 59. Perhaps this is what led me to search for her name yesterday, when I stumbled across a post someone left in a guestbook for one of her online obituaries. She left a sweet little bit about how she, my mother, and one other lady had all been best friends in high school. N--the other lady--died in a car accident at the age of 19. Nobody had reached out to this poor woman when my mom passed, and she did not find out until about a year and a half after it happened. So I think I'll be sending her a letter soon. If I tracked down the right woman, that is...otherwise I'm sending a letter to a woman I have zero connections to, and she'll simply be confused. Anyway. All this Debbie Downer-ism kind of left me in the mood to share one of my favorite things. Chocolate Sugar Body Scrub. Originally found on Pinterest, I've traced the recipe to Chasing Cheerios, and it is indeed wonderful. In a bowl, mix: 2 cups brown sugar 6 tablespoons cocoa powder 2 tablespoons vanilla extract 1/4 cup olive oil Put in an airtight container. The bad news: it makes a total mess of the bathroom. The good news: everything will smell like brownies! Plus your skin will feel soft and wonderful. It's a nice treat at the end of a bad day. Note that everything in it is edible, but just because you CAN doesn't mean you SHOULD. It is not delicious. Anyway. Thinking of my mom today, and her wonderful friends. And getting ready to go spoil myself with chocolate. And then perhaps some chocolate.