It's that time of year again

Last year, I didn't blog much about gardening despite ending up with a pretty rockin' garden. Energy that could/should/would have been spent on blogging instead went into the new puppy, dealing with the garden, dealing with the new house, etc, etc. Last summer was overwhelming.

My first priority was peas. I knew a "real" garden would take some work and planning and money and sun, but I could handle peas. (Please disregard the super-high-tech, dog-proofing twig fence; March 21, 2010):


The few that I got were pretty tasty. I didn't really "amend" the soil, and they didn't get as much sun as I'd hoped. And then Lucy (the new puppy) dug them up.

I brought a really beautiful strawberry plant home from the Union Square Greenmarket. It transplanted well into the sort-of-raised-bed (complete with amended soil) B created. But then one day I came home to this (June 25):


It was OK, though, because the rest of that garden had turned into this jungle (Lucy's in the back left. June 25):


We grew zucchini (July 7):


And purple green beans (July 7):


They turn green when cooked (Note super-duper-high-tech kitchen implement to keep half a bean out of boiling water; July 8):


An attempt was made at eggplant (July 7):


All seemed to be going well in Gardenland. Until... (July 12)


Something went wrong and bugs got into the zucchini. Not just the zucchini fruit, but into the vines themselves. I think they might have been some kind of borer. I remain the only person on earth unable to grow tons of zucchini.

Luckily, we had little hot peppers to distract us! Look at all those jalapeños trying to flip us off (July 12):


There was a tomato (July 12):


An ominous sky artsily framed with tomato blossoms (July 12):


And even more ominously, a wild dog with no regard for chicken-wire fences (July 12):


To be continued...

one.

I love food. Is that quite clear yet? I guess this blog exists for me (and you, my dear potential readers) to explore what that means.

One of my main interests is yoga. I often think, and say, that doing yoga gives me permission to eat whatever I want and enjoy it. I don't mean that in a calories-in-to-calories-out-ratio kind of way. I mean it like this: Yoga has taught me, and continues to teach me, that being a human being is very much about the senses. The act of creating meals from scratch tickles allll the senses. Smelling sweet, spicy, and savory aromas wafting through the whole apartment. Seeing brightly colored fruits and vegetables mingling in the pan, mellowing with a little cream. Hearing the crackling, popping sound of seeds, or the low roil of boiling water, full of potential. Feeling the dry, comforting heat of an oven or the sharp OW! of a slipped paring knife. And the best - tasting not just the finished product, but during each step along the way.

Yoga also teaches me that enjoyment is a good thing (I know - who has to be taught, right?). And cooking is downright fun! The process of creating a unified something from a bunch of little somethings is so fulfilling to me. And then, of course, there's the eating.

Before I worked at the paper, I liked food, a lot, but now cooking is part of me. When I started there in January 2005, I became responsible for the production of two weekly features sections. I refer to only one of them as "mine." This attachment wouldn't be the case if not for the amazing women I work with, reporter Kathy and editor Lesli.

Oh - and for the record, I'm a stickler for Associated Press style. I must differ, though, on one point. The stylebook lists "chili" for all food-related uses. I diligently, if begrudgingly, follow that rule for print copy. Here, you will see that spelling used only if I'm referring to a concoction headed for a bowl. Members of the capsicum family are, of course, "chiles."

If you happen to be a member of AFJ, lobby your representative to lobby AP. Peppers everywhere are counting on you.