Rarely are dishes this simple this good. Something about lots of slow-braised rabbit and whole garlic cloves, spiked with sweet peas and a splash of vinegar makes this recipe far greater than the sum of its parts.
I am lucky enough to have feral little tomatillos grow in my garden, and so each year I make a big batch of Mexican tomatillo salsa verde. I eat some fresh, but the rest I can for the winter. This is a canning-safe recipe.
July in a garden’s high water mark. It is also time to contemplate the autumn to come. This year, it is time to do the same in my own life’s garden.
When I was growing up, I thought “antipasti” meant pickled cauliflower, carrots and onions because that’s what was served in the old-style Italian joints I ate in. Well, I managed to recreate the recipe for their pickled cauliflower here.
This is about as springtime as it gets. Fresh garden peas, served with light-as-air gnocchi made with pea puree, tied together with a little butter and cheese. Just a lovely light supper.
My cat has gone missing. We have not seen her in more than a week, and I feel dead inside because of it. I try to stay positive, or at least stoic, and busy myself with the green renewal that is my garden. My garden. Where my cat and I first met each other, years ago.
When life gives you arugula — a wild version grows like a weed in my yard — you make arugula pesto. A peppery, bracing pesto that matches really well with homemade pasta.
Simple seared fish — in this case sturgeon — served with spring awesomeness, in this case asparagus, spinach and peas. Use this recipe as a model for whatever fish and whatever spring bounty you can find. This dish tastes as clean as a cool spring breeze.