The Magical Fruit

Get your mind out of the gutter!  I'm not talking about beans (Though we do have a truckload of pintos drying.  They are literally drying in the bed of our Fat Bear truck).  I'm talking about day-neutral strawberries.  We planted the crowns this past spring, and we are now enjoying their first fall crop.  I think that's pretty damn special.

I am oh so excited about what is pictured above.  The plants are not only full of both red and green strawberries, but they are also in continuous bloom.  As each white flower opens, it signals that there will be a juicy red berry in its place in about one month's time.  So, it is my hope that we'll be able to offer strawberries until the first frost!  No promises, though.  Isn't there some saying about counting hens before they hatch?  For now, let's just enjoy the beauty of the late strawberry season.

And FIGS!  

I've become quite the fruit addict.  Blueberry and strawberry season(s) overlapped this year, and now we have both figs and strawberries.  Nom, nom, nom!

Today's figs and the tree from which they came.

And, just because he's the most perfect being on this planet:

The Honorable Thurgood Morsel

Gettin' Figgy With It

Now that blueberry season is in the rearview, we've been able to have a little fun with our food again.  I usually don't have the energy to cook a real meal after a big harvest day, so we've been reduced to sandwiches from the sub shop and frozen pizzas for too long.

We finally fired up the clay oven for the first time in weeks.

On last night's pizza menu: homegrown figs, pimiento peppers, basil, and rosemary.  Our farmer's market friends contributed tomatoes, red onions, and goat cheese.

It's amazing how figs become their own delicious warm jam after two minutes in the pizza oven.  I think we'll be doing this all the time now.

Good enough to be a meal on their own.

It was a ten-pizza night.  This one was my favorite.

And, just so you know, I made a fig tart earlier in the week.  We're talking about roasted butternut squash & onions, ricotta, and pesto.

Life Doesn't Get Any Better

Ben and I were fortunate enough to be invited to volunteer at this year's Lambstock.  We got to spend time with the incredibly welcoming animals of Border Springs Farm and meet equally incredible chefs, farmers, and mixologists.

A very sweet Nubian goat couple.

Mama sheep was nice enough to let me cuddle her baby.

Now, for the debauchery of it all.

Lambstock put a temporary kibosh on my 16 years of vegetarianism, and I couldn't have enjoyed it more.  I felt good about sinking my teeth into perfectly prepared lamb, turkey, and pork because I know that those animals had lived lives that anyone would envy.  Anyway, that's not what I really want to talk about.  At Lambstock, it's all about making new friends, eating too much, and indulging in a sip or two.  I consumed so much mammal that by the last meal of the event, I was convinced that turkey was a vegetable.

 Pork belly, get in my belly!

Punch, please.

Yep, I ate a boatload of that.  Who ever knew lamb could taste so good?

All dressed up and ready for the party.

No bones about it.

See, sometimes we do get away from the farm.