It's Been a Good Day

I was pink-cheeked and sweaty as I approached the final uphill of my journey. After an hour and a half at the garden, I was carrying a bag of bounty on the last leg of the walk home when a neighbor hailed me with a swatting gesture.

I knew right away that he was asking if I'd been on the pickleball court, and I shook my head no and pointed to the bag on my shoulder. "I've been at the garden," I shrugged. "But we did play pickleball earlier."

"What's coming in now?" he asked, and I was only too happy to tell him about the eggplant, tomatoes, peppers, and okra I was carrying.

"Do you walk up there?" he asked, and when I nodded he answered, "Nice," with just a bit of a wistful sigh.

"I've been staring at a screen all day," he told me.

I regarded myself, tanned and happy, and considered the events of my day, baking bread, playing pickleball, gardening, then I smiled sympathetically and offered him a couple of tomatoes and the promise of a pickleball game tomorrow.

100% Homemade

I make a sensational summer tomato sauce, if I do say so, myself! Based on a recipe from the now-defunct pizzeria Gaffiato, it calls for a combination of chopped tomatoes and cherry tomatoes, along with shaved shallots and garlic sauteed in a big glug of olive oil, and a sprinkle of salt, some fresh basil, and rosemary. Although I make it year-round with canned and store-bought tomatoes, not surprisingly, it is at its peak of zesty perfection when prepared with fresh, sun-ripened ingredients. 

Over the years, I've intentionally cultivated more cherry tomatoes in our garden than we can put in a salad or eat out of hand for just this recipe, and it's a perfect way to use the imperfect tomatoes I can never bear to throw away. I grow my own basil and rosemary as well, so I always liked to consider this sauce as homemade as possible. 

Even so, it occurred to me last summer that I could be growing my own shallots and garlic, too, and this sauce was my motivation to plant those alliums last fall. Regular readers may recall that I have had a bumper crop of both shallots and garlic, and they are at last stored nicely, waiting to be used. And now? The tomatoes have finally come in, and this morning I was able to make my first batch of sauce all homegrown vegetables and herbs.

Perhaps I'm biased, but the results were amazing, and ever so satisfying to this kitchen-gardener. Tangy, balanced, fresh, and sweet, the sauce is like summer on a spoon.

So now? I'm wondering where to put that olive tree and seawater evaporator.

Byways

Knowing we would hit the Beltway right around 5 PM, I made an executive decision to override the map app and go rogue. "I just know we're going to get on I-70 and watch the time keep creeping up," I told Heidi as I took exit 3B and headed south to Berkeley Springs. "I hate being in stop-and-go traffic at the end of a long trip." 

Just then the traffic ahead of us slowed to a halt, and the map app insisted that we make a U-turn. I held my ground though, crossing over the C&O Canal, and 15 minutes later we rolled past the familiar sites of Maria's Garden, The Cat Cafe, the Star Theater, and the old bathhouse and pool. Then it was Tony's Butcher Block, Midway Bowl, and Capacon State Park, and clear roads through the mountains all the way to Winchester.

Our ETA stayed stable at 6:12 all the way through the horse-country towns of Delaplain and Marshall until we hit I-66, where our arrival time ping-ponged up and down by 20 minutes every few miles or so. When we were offered the option of getting on the Beltway, I resisted again and drove straight into town. We hit one more backup, but by then we were almost home, and we knew the shortcuts to take.

Pulling into our parking space at 6:08, I considered all the ground we had covered on our 400-mile journey from north to south, and grateful for our safe arrival, opened the back hatch and started unloading the car.

Every Walk a New Adventure

You might think that these quiet, tree-lined suburban streets would be calm and uneventful for more urban dog walkers like ourselves, but you would be wrong. The curving sidewalks that pass by neatly mowed lawns and cookie-cutter houses are full of hazards and distractions. 

Bunnies and squirrels of course, but we have also encountered a mother deer and her still-spotted twin fawns. In addition, the fences conceal dogs who run along and bark ferociously, triggering an equal reaction in Heidi’s folks’ dog, Briggs, every time. 

This morning an off-leash dog bounded out of his garage and straight at me and Heidi and Lucy, his owner bellowing to no avail for him to return. A big pittie, he didn’t seem aggressive, but we couldn’t really tell in the moment. Heidi and I shouted “No!” And Lucy danced in a circle on her leash as he neared us, and then circled back to his owner. No harm done, but our hearts were pounding as we continued on.

By far the most perilous jeopardy we encountered was the stray tennis ball on someone’s lawn; Lucy spotted it first and nearly dragged me down straining to retrieve it. A few houses down, I saw another one, but fortunately? I was ready, and Lucy missed it, and so our walk continued on without further happenstance.

Nothing but Cake?

Some say the spirits of your loved ones are with you whenever you are reminded of them. If that’s the case, my mom has been with Heidi all weekend. 

When we were in Rochester, MN 4 years ago for my mom’s treatment at the Mayo Clinic, Heidi and she loved the fact that there was a Nothing Bundt Cake store within walking distance of the condo. Many nights after dinner, the two of them would split a mini chocolate-chocolate chip bundt cake. I’m not a big dessert fan, but I have to admit the place makes a pretty good cake— moist and flavorful.

A few years ago the chain opened a store near us, and we’ve gone out there several times to get their “bundtinis” to celebrate friends’ birthdays. Of course every time we set foot in the place, we talk about my mom. And now? There’s a Nothing Bundt Cake right down the road from Heidi’s folks in Buffalo. 

We have passed by several times on this trip, and Heidi has been itching to stop and get the bundtini sampler, a dozen tiny Bundt cakes in all the available flavors, to share with her family. Each time, though, the store has been closed.

Finally, today, we made it in and got our pretty little box of cakes. But when Heidi opened it up to show her mom, we were dismayed to see that the signature frosting was missing. Heidi was on the phone in minute. “I was just in there,” she started, “and I got a dozen bundtinis. Aren’t they supposed to have frosting?”

What followed was a long conversation, mostly because the person on the other end couldn’t believe they would have let a box of naked bundtinis leave the store. When the situation was ultimately resolved, they offered us the option of bringing in our cakes to be frosted AND another dozen bundtinis free!

Mom would have been very pleased with that outcome.

Out to the Ball Park

Because we have a partial season ticket plan for the Nats and since Heidi’s dad is such a big baseball fan, it seemed like a fun idea to go see the AAA Buffalo Bisons play at their home field this afternoon. We bought our tickets online yesterday, on the third-base line and right behind home plate, only 10 rows up from the field. The day was warm and sunny, but there was a breeze and plenty of puffy clouds to offer shade from time to time. 

The field is right downtown, with a view of several historic buildings and the on-ramp to the Peace Bridge. Named for Sahlen’s, a local hot dog company, the food at the ball park is actually really good: in addition to Sahlen’s franks, there is beef on weck, chicken wings, and soft-serve frozen custard.

The team is doing well, just one game out from first place. The Bisons are the farm team for the Toronto Blue Jays, and they were playing the Toledo Mud Hens, Detroit’s Triple-A team. July 16 is Buffalo Day, because 716 has been the area code here since 1947, and the Bisons were wearing new, locally-made jerseys and caps to celebrate the event. There were plenty of crowd-friendly activities as well, local trivia, ice cream scooping contest, blindfolded ice cream flavor guessing, kids racing the mascot around the bags, and the “WCC” race between chicken wing, blue cheese, and carrot (today they were joined by beef on weck). 

All in all? It was a classic American summer afternoon, and despite a few snafus with our group (think health and mobility) we all had a grand time, and Heidi’s parents are napping peacefully as I write.

Creature of Habit

Despite the big, beautiful, fenced-in backyard that Heidi’s parents have, each morning when I get up, Lucy runs over and nudges her leash. Even if I let her out in the yard, she hurriedly pees and then returns to the door, eager for a walk.

It’s hard to blame her— a morning outing before breakfast has been the routine since she was an eight-week-old puppy. Neither do I mind taking an early walk: the Buffalo mornings are cool and quiet with the occasional rabbit or deer sighting. A quick mile loop and we’re back, Lucy literally pooped out, and I invigorated and ready for the day.