A new season

We had one of those summers where the babe took sick, the crops wouldn't grow, and my milk nearly dried up. Very Grapes of Wrath, I thought to myself all summer long. A very humbling, human experience. One of those seasons that takes a lot, but ultimately gives back a lot.

Growing tomatoes here, in California, is effortless. I stick them in the ground or in a big container, water occasionally, feed occasionally, don't overthink, and they they grow like weeds and there are more tomatoes than I can keep up with all summer long. Early Girl and Cherokee Purple are my favorites. The Brandywine yellow variety. Not this year. Nothing wanted to grow. The babe was in the hospital, and when I was there I fretted about him. When I came home for a respite and a shower, I fretted about the stunted tomatoes. I started gardening 5 years ago after a terrible breakup. I've learned a lot and the garden has given a lot of pleasure and satisfaction. But this year, the failed garden was just another source of pain, discontent, and powerlessness.

So something really opened up inside me last weekend when we pulled out the old tomato plants, gave the perennials a haircut, amended the soil, and planted lettuces, radishes, more peas, and carrots. We've already eaten a lot of kale from the garden and a lot of snap peas. See how tall those pea plants are? I repurpose some tomato cages to hold them up.

And this morning we woke up to sprouts! Leetle tiny radish sprouts, all growing and trying and bursting forth. I get a little excited.

I'm relieved. Hopeful. With my birthday and Thanksgiving coming so soon, and then the new year, it feels like we're getting a fresh start. Thank you little sprouts. We needed that.

Election day

Our little family walked to our polling place to vote this morning and then had pancakes at our local greasy spoon. The baby is too young to remember, but I hope he will be proud one day that he was there when Obama won a second term. I want him to learn that it's his duty to vote, and I want him to value justice, diversity, and social responsibility. I want to raise a feminist son.

Here in California, we voted for labels on GMO foods. I sure hope this is the start of national right to know campaign.

I am cooking dinner and drinking wine. Feeling celebratory. NPR's on the radio and my good man is putting the baby down. Maybe I'll bake cookies later. It's a good day.

Curried brussels sprouts with pasta and browned butter

These are the last of the carrots and bell peppers from the garden, and the first of the peas. Our summer garden failed miserably this year; over the weekend we pulled out the sad tomato plants, amended the soil with compost, and planted fall crops: more peas and carrots, lettuces, radishes, chard. The peas and kale we planted a month or so ago are thriving; I'm hopeful this winter garden will do better. 

Here is a simple fall dinner for you. We had pasta, but this might be better with brown rice or quinoa. The warm curry spices play off the sweet carrots and bitter brussels sprouts, and the browned butter marries it all together with nutty, fragrant, buttery goodness. I'd like to experiment with curry and brown butter more this fall.

Curried Brussels Sprouts with Pasta and Browned Butter

Preheat the oven to 400F. Clean and halve brussels sprouts and place in a baking dish lined with parchment paper. Coarsely chop carrots and potatoes and add to the dish with the brussels sprouts. Toss the veggies with salt, pepper, olive oil, and a dusting of curry powder and put in the oven for about 40 minutes, until tender. 

Meanwhile, put on the pasta water to boil. We used rotini. Rigatoni, bowties, penne, or any of the bite-size shapes would be good too. While the pasta cooks, put a few tablespoons of butter in a saucepan and carefully heat until brown. You need to keep a close eye on it, or it will burn and you will be sad.

Drain the pasta, put it back in the pot, add the roasted veggies, browned butter, a handful of parmesan and toss. Adjust seasonings to taste.