This is one of the flowers Will planted--I believe it's called a Mexican Sunflower. All of his flowers are orange or blue. The blue ones are Bachelor's Buttons, which we know now to plant en masse; otherwise they just kind of flop over and look at you with these pathetic, sadsack expressions. Photo credit: The Man.
As I write this, Jack is cutting an onion into wedges. He's making pot roast for dinner. I know, I know, who makes pot roast in July? But our deal is that when he cooks his weekly meal, he can pick what he wants to make. So pot roast it is.
He made two pies for the 4th of July--strawberry lemonade and Key Lime--but has slowed down on pie production since. He says the two pies for the 4th put him ahead a week. He did make wonderful popsicles yesterday, chocolate and vanilla swirls that called for many bowls, much melting, and a long grocery store search for plain, whole fat yogurt. You could spend years looking for that stuff. Low fat is everywhere. It's a shame.
I tried making mozzarella on Tuesday, but failed. I thought maybe I didn't get the temperatures right, or maybe added too much citric acid, or didn't get the rennet diluted enough.
But as it turns out, the problem was much simpler. Turns out that I don't know what a gallon of milk is. I bought a half-gallon, called it a gallon, tried to make mozzarella and ended up with something like ricotta.
But you know what? Whatever I made, it tasted delicious. Last night I ate it with blackberry jam spooned over it. And then I bought a gallon of milk. Turns out that's a lot of milk, cowboy.
Canning update: Today, blueberry jam. Saturday, tomato-basil sauce. Yep, I have eight pounds of ripe tomatoes, thanks to our neighbor, Mr. Eddie, who gave us several plants in early spring that he'd started under lights in January. We've had to ripen a lot of our tomatoes on the porch, to keep them out of the clutches of the squirrels, but they seem to do just fine.
Looking out across the garden, there appear to be approximately 900 tomatoes about to come to fruition. It is possible I will soon feel overwhelmed by the sheer tomato-y goodness of my life. Is there such a thing as too many tomatoes?
No, no there is not.
Pot roast. It's what's for dinner.