We're off to a good start. By the end of last weekend, we'd managed to use up all of our CSA share. Considering that last year we always had one or two things we threw away even with less frequent pick-ups, that's a great start. We used everyting in the predicted way last week, and it was all delicious.
Since storms continue to flood a lot of the farms, we didn't have very high hopes for this week's share. Luckily, they pulled it out and we got a pretty good variety again.
More spinach this week. We don't have specific plans for this (usually a red flag) and may just end up steaming it as a side dish.
Escarole will end up in one of our favorite soups. How can you not love anything that has an entire roasted head of garlic in it?
Lettuce and radishes are salad bound.
Green garlic is slated to get grilled and then used to flavor a white bean dip. Hopefully that works out for us as I'll be winging it with the recipe.
Asparagus was already roasted, with a balsamic and brown butter sauce. So good. We could have roasted asparagus every day for a week and not get sick of it or run out of recipes to try.
The strawberry harvest must have been hard hit by the weather, because we got a sad little container with thirteen small berries in it. They were delicious, but we were still pretty sad to see so few. Berries are a real highlight of the summer for us.
Some kind of sprouts have already been consumed on salads.
Mint is bound for drinks (we've already used it to determine that we don't like juleps) and grilled lamb chops.
Rhubarb is getting frozen so that we can make crisp after the season. I found the good recipe after making the just ok one, so we clearly need to make it again soon.
2 comments:
you got berries AND rhubarb? dammit! i totally live in the wrong part of the country.
Well Chicago is known as the produce capital of America.
This week's newsletter claims that we'll be getting a full pint of strawberries, which will be nice after having gotten such a small number last week. The picture didn't properly express the sadness of thirteen small strawerries rattling forlornly around the bottom of a mostly empty pint container.
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