Posts Tagged: seed to table

Caprese Salad With Reduced Balsmic & Buffalo Mozzarella Bocconcini

I’m about to get all up in your face with my snobby tomatoes. You know, the REAL, heirloom kind. The ones that aren’t perfectly uniform, altogether unsymmetrical and absolutely DIVINE tasting. Yea, those ones.

Now, you could make this salad with regular variety beefsteak tomatoes, but for the love of gawd please don’t make them with GMO knock off, fake ‘heirloom’ tomatoes. Please just no. It just won’t taste the same and part of the absolute bliss in eating this salad comes from only being able to enjoy it in this state (with such a variety of home-grown tomatoes), oh but one time of year. When tomatoes are ripe and ready to be plucked off of the vine.

Which, for me – happened late as they were planted late. Lucky us…we’ve received a warm fall so far which allowed all of my green tomatoes the time they needed to grow and ripen into rock-star status. Heirloom tomatoes would in fact be rock-stars if they could, I think.

So now that you’re all quite certain of just how much I love growing, eating and waxing poetic (sort of), about tomatoes, we can move right along to what you’re really all here for, (I think?) A simple yet damned good caprese salad recipe. 

Pictorial: A Work In Progress, From Seed To (Hopefully) Table

Organic Heirloom Gardening

Earlier this morning this arrived…

Real Mama Life: On Gardening & Libations

Welcome to the 1st edition of Real Mama Life!  <<< (click there to learn more about how you can participate!)

Where we embrace the glory and humour in the chaos. Un-staged and imperfectly beautiful.’

Oh, Monday mornings. Especially more manic when you’ve been away for the weekend. Today has been a day of catching up on cleaning and laundry. Making lists, fitting in work and grovelling a bit. (A rare occurrence of a tad too many forms of liquid libation were had this weekend for a friend’s surprise 40th birthday party. Yes, I’m still recovering.)

I’m making To Do Lists because when I don’t – little things tend to build up and get out of control…like winter decor still hanging around. (Not calling this stuff Christmas decorations, becasue – psh. I celebrate seasons decor -wise. Far easier that way and yet not. Or my mantle wouldn’t still be rocking beaded berries, golden brambles, twinkle lights and snow owls. There are so many organizational apps out there that are valued by many busy moms. As much as I love my tech gear and appery…I still prefer old-school, sweet smelling (at least to me) pen to paper.

Probably time to switch this business up a bit. Some pussy willows, fresh flowers or plants and what-not. You know.

If winter would just piss off, I could get to planting some flowers here. A very valid excuse I’d say.

The squirrels seem to like it…

It’s not that I am behind with spring cleaning perse. I’ve begun it – just a little haphazardly is all. Suffice to say you won’t be finding any Spring Mantle or Spring Wreath DIY’s around here. But I may just show-off some less-than-timely-seasonal-updates. You know, around the end of the summer say. Because I am a nester and a DIY’er. I love that action. I’m just not very timely about it.

Especially when I add on extra responsibilities like co-planning a huge-ass veggie garden and landcape over-haul in our front and back yards, starting my plants from seed for the first time. EVER. It’s been a time-consuming, rewarding adventure. All all I have are some sprouts so far. However. Not all I’ve planted has sprouted.

This is what we call a seedy situation.

These beauties right here are sweet, juicy, smoky-salty and belong in my mouth.

Fuzzy Wuzzy Was a Seed…

SPROUTS!!!! Also? I’m pretty sure I labeled the sweet peppers incorrectly. They may or may not be pickling cucumbers. That’s what happens when you plant the tiniest little seeds at 1am whilst consuming beer and alternately bouncing around to Public Enemy. The beginnings of a spring sensory bin…see ALSO.

I can do anything! RAWR! The rest of my house is a distaster and we ate take-out pizza last night (Oxy moron what?) But LOOK!!!

These ones aren’t sprouting. I hates them.

Every morning that I wake up and some of those wee peat pots still lay barren, a small part of me dies. Dramatic, perhaps. I suppose I’ll toughen up about it soon. Probably around the time that all of the stubby carrots I grow get eaten in one meal. Unless I do something whack like dedicating one whole raised bed to carrots. Nahhhh…I wouldn’t do that. Nope. Not me.

You can bet your sweet bum I think I’m going to start canning more than my usual strawberry jam this year too. In fact, I’ve engaged in round 1 of nagging Trev to put up some metal shelving units in the laundry room. (Which we already own, so it’s totally practical.)

You know, to keep all of our jarred goods organized on. I’ve been given the side-eye once. No worries, this is the beginning phase of a natural progression betwist he and I…wherein he soon realizes that I will indeed do exactly what I venture out to do – and he shall help.

See? A very willing participant. Or something.

Because look. Who could resist this hot piece of mom right here? I rest my case.

Now I’m going to finish up some other work (I’m working on a logo for a friend/client that I am having SUCH fun with! You hear that Em?) and take my hot self over to the couch for a blissful 20 minutes of laundry folding before all hell breaks loose when the kids get home from daycare. Probably while watching Parks & Rec, while I tango between grilling some pork-chops and caramelizing some apples to go on that action. I haven’t showered yet today and the laundry probably won’t get put away until tomorrow. I might go to Yoga tonight – but we really have to start spring cleaning/prepping our yards and get some grown up shit done around here.

Plus, if we don’t take the bottom-feeders out in the evening now that the sun is shining high till bed-time, they will drill our heads at maximum capacity with cries of the great injustice of it all. Which, is true. Fresh air for toddlers is like cold Belgium beer on a patio for mommies.

That, my friends – is just an average day on the home-front.

I actually love folding laundry. Hate putting it away.


Where we embrace the glory and humour in the chaos. Un-staged and imperfectly beautiful.’

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