I am extraordinarily proud of this bunch of rainbow chard.
The plants, from an early October in situ sowing, survived the leaf eating birds (using cake umbrella nets in initial days helped), a week or two of arctic temperatures in January, demon dogs, a clowder of neighbourhood cats littering and loitering, and still rallied to make these lovely, colourful, juicy, crunchy leaves.
On Friday I harvested this decent sized bunch of chard leaves and put them in a stew with mushrooms, quinoa, lentils and some of the small 2024 harvest of bouncy, chewy sorghum.
This meal was enjoyed in the sun in Cafe Paradiso outback, with avocado and Haitian pikliz, which, according to the late great chef and raconteur Anthony Bourdain, Haitians eat in literal bucketloads. When they aren’t eating dogs in the USA. If you believe that last bit, I have a swamp to sell you in the Sahara.
Pikliz is a spicy salad of vinegar marinated raw vegetables: cabbage, carrots, onions, garlic, scotch bonnet peppers are traditional, and some secret spices. Or not so secret: I tossed in a few cloves and fresh ground black pepper. My drink pictured above is chilled hibiscus, ginger and rooibos tea in a recycled glass goblet from Mexico, which I rescued from a thrift store recently.
Today I used the rest of the stew to stuff a bunch of sweet bell peppers. Enjoyed, again with avocado (from Mexico, thank you Mexico) and another serving of pikliz which is best after about five days of marinating on a kitchen counter.
Unlike the sauerkraut bubbling quietly as it lacto-ferments in the corner, or my two Korean tamari pickled garlic projects (spoiler alert: I’ve been tasting and they are delicious in an Asian pickles way), pikliz does not stink up the place. I don’t think. But would I even know? So much stinks in the Sea of Crisis right now. Where’s the Sea of Crisis? When it’s not on the moon, it’s just beyond the Gulf of Hubris, through the Straits of Greed.
Not fiddling but fermenting while Rome burns, ensuring that at least my digestive microbiome is healthy and well maintained as all around collapses and the world struggles to stomach ill-mannered inequity and affront. This week’s edition.
No outdoor wandering Wednesday of wonder to report on this week, just food, and eating, fence oiling and general early spring garden pottering.
Jury duty messed with my ability to make roadtrip plans. The case was dismissed without needing a jury, but with exceedingly short notice to the prospective jurors. Sigh. Doing one’s civic duty can be onerous.
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