Swiss Chard and Sweet Potato in Mustard Sauce

KosherCook came up with another unusual, yet delicious, recipe for dinner tonight. Here it is for your enjoyment.

Ingredients:

• bunch Swiss chard (8-9 leaves) - stems removed and coursely chopped
  
• sweet potato (peeled and oven roasted in olive oil and a little salt)
• 3 - 4 cloves garlic
• 1 cup chopped zucchini
• 1 cup chopped green pepper
• 1 heaping TBSP Dijon mustard (a "dollop")
• approx. 1.5 tsp dry mustard
• 6 TBSP plain non-fat yogurt
• 1 TBSP sour cream
• black pepper to taste
• 1 TBSP Extra Virgin Olive Oil
  

Method:
Heat olive oil in dutch oven. Add chopped garlic and swiss chard and sautee until chard starts to soften. Add green peppers and zucchini and sautee until softened. Cut sweet potato into cubes and add. Add Dijon mustard and 1 tsp of dry mustard (save rest for sauce).

Sauce - mix yogurt and sour cream, add .5 tsp dry mustard and black pepper to taste.

Add sauce, mix, and serve over angel hair pasta. (You can also add pasta to the pot so the sauce covers it well.)

I really wasn't sure about this combination of ingredients - mainly because I suggested it. I spoke to KosherCook from work and last I heard he was going to look up a recipe based on my suggestion. Instead, I came home to find him standing in front of the pot full of vegetables, looking dismayed, and asking me what to do next.

Me? I had no idea - I just threw out a suggestion. But 10 minutes later he had figured it out and it tasted really good. I thought for sure KosherCop would turn his nose up at - and he started to. But, then he saw that it had Swiss Chard in it and got all excited. He ate almost everything on his plate and kept saying how great Swiss Chard is!

Cell Phones and Minutes and Pre-Paid, Oh My!

Help! I've fallen into the abyss that is searching for a new cell phone, and I can't get out (because I can't phone for help).

It has come to our attention that our cell phones are hopelessly old and outdated. Jeesh! They're only from 2001! Okay, so they're only slightly smaller than our portable handset for our landline. And, yes, KosherCook's phone has a smashed display screen and the antenna fell off somewhere downtown.

But they still work. Except you can't actually use mine for more than a minute at a time because the battery no longer holds a charge. And you can't really reach KosherCook because even though his phone is on, it slips into a parallel universe called "PowerSave Mode" and refuses to take your calls.

But, we have this great plan where as long we only talk to each other we never use a single minute!

Okay, fine. We'd be better off with two paper cups attached together by a piece of string.

So, in an effort to avoid giving rise to a new form of "tethering", I've been researching new phones and plans. This would be a fairly simple process if we could simply decide what we want and find the best price. Apparently most people shop for new electronics this way.

Not so, here at Chez Kosher Whine. You see our very old cell phone plan is also super cheap. And we can't really have it cost more than it does now. If it does cost more, the difference will have to come from somewhere else. So I have spent the past 10 days making complex mathematical calculations trying to determine if increasing the price of our cell phone plan will somehow allow us to decrease the price of our landline fees. If you have ever read The Restaurant at the End of the Universe by Douglas Adams, you will understand the amount of mental energy we are talking about. (The first person to leave a comment explaining this reference gets a cookie.)

I thought I had finally reached a decision tonight: a prepaid plan that would actually save us a whopping $400 a year - unless our usage went up dramatically - and 2 low-end but well reviewed phones. But, then I made the mistake of asking KosherCook's opinion on the whole thing. I don't know why I asked - I already knew his demands were simple. He wanted his phone to ring when someone called him, and be able to pick it up and actually speak to them. But I asked, and he threw a monkey wrench into the whole thing by suggesting that (Horrors!) we didn't have to get the same phone or even the same plan!

So back to the drawing board and four hours later I came to the same conclusion as I had originally. Except...I read that the SAR rating on the phone I wanted was the absolute highest allowable by law. I don't even know what this means compared to the radiation from the microwave that I stand in front at least once a day for a minute or more, or the ancient (notice a theme here?) laptop I have resting on the majority of my internal organs as I type this.

This is not information I was looking for, but now that I have it I can't ignore it. I am the poster child for neurotically extreme caution where my health (and my family's) are concerned. I once went to a chiropractor, hoping to cure a stiff neck. I was pregnant with KosherCop at the time, so the doctor performed a battery of tests involving tilting my head in different directions and asking me if I felt dizzy, which I did. I pretty much felt dizzy the whole nine months. Because I answered "yes" he told me he could do an adjustment on my neck and everything would probably be fine, but he had to warn me that there was a 1 in 500,000 chance that I could have a stroke and die. I left without the adjustment. It really didn't matter what that second number was. 1 in 99 kajillion thrillion bazillion. I only heard the "1".

So I will probably not get the high SAR phone. I'll probably end up getting something more expensive with less features. There really is such a thing as too much information.

On the other hand, the phone I want has a speaker phone. I could just keep it really far away from me at all times and shout into it. All I need is a long stick to answer it, maybe an iron purse to keep it in and I'm all set. Problem solved!

New technology here I come.

Heartwrenching Conversations

The other night KosherCop told me a story that brought me to tears:

Mommy, I was playing Butler's Orchard today, but the store where I smelled all the stuff was a log cabin. And this Butler's Orchard had a REALLY BIG railroad track.

And they had oranges at Butler's Orchard...and your mother ate the oranges before she died.

It's shocking enough whenever KosherCop talks about death, but to hear him make up a story about my mother (Z''L) - the grandmother he never met - was unbearably heartwrenching.

But, suddenly, his tone changed and he sounded very mature and wise beyond his years.

But she saved one orange for you...she saved it for you so that you would have good luck.

She did? (Trying not to cry)

He was telling the story so earnestly, and with such authority, I half believed that somewhere out there was this beautiful, secret inheritance of a good luck orange.

So, where is my lucky orange?

You ate it already!

Well it must have been good luck...because I have you!

Yes, you ate the orange and it turned into a perfect baby...and then into a big boy... and that's me!

Then he looked at me with this wide-eyed, shy sort of expression and gave me a huge hug.

I wish my mother had gotten the chance to meet KosherCop. Although, sometimes when he says things like this, I wonder if maybe, somehow, she already has.

Shh! The Blueberries Are Sleeping.

Again with the produce! That's right and this time it's blueberries. We went to Butler's Orchard today with 2 other families to pick blueberries.

KosherCop got tired of it early on and hired his friend to do his picking for him. I heard him "delegating" and told him he wasn't to boss around this other little boy - that he wasn't working for him. However, his friend was adamant that he was in fact KosherCop's "worker" and so I gave up. Disturbing as this was, I couldn't help kvelling a little at my son's leadership skills and daydreamed about his possible future as an entrepreneur. That is, until he announced it was picnic time and the 2 of them sat down between the rows of blueberry bushes and proceeded to chow down 2/3 of the profits.

Despite this short-lived business arrangement, we all had a great time and went out to lunch afterwards. This meant that our collective haul had to spend 2 hours baking in our 120 degree cars while we ate - the first of many hardships our blueberries would have to endure.

Amazingly, the berries were fine when we got home. To be clear, only I was amazed - KosherCook said, "What are you worrying about? They are out in the hot sun all day every day."

Hmm...good point - did they sprout roots and continue growing while they were in our trunk too?

The rest of the day centered around decluttering counter tops and washing various colanders in order to finally be able to rinse and put away the blueberries in our tiny kitchen. The plan was to freeze most of them since we have a poor track record for using up fruit before it spoils.

After I washed them I set them out to dry and asked KosherCook to check how to store them in the refrigerator. Apparently, I should have had him do this first, because the answer was that I shouldn't have washed them at all - they have to be put away dry, especially if they are going in the freezer. This made sense, and that was why they were drying.

At 11:30 pm they were still quite wet. It takes a long time for 5 lbs. of blueberries to airdry. So I invented the "blueberry spinner" which consisted of a wad of paper towels on the bottom of a colander and me shaking small batches of berries until they appeared dry. If that didn't cause them to explode or get bruised in any way, I can only guess that they are purposely bred to withstand consumer stupidity.

The shaking worked better than I expected and now the blueberries are safely tucked in for the night. They are very delicious, but please don't disturb them - they've had a tough day!

Spiritual "To Do List"

Last week was pretty crazy and I'm glad it's over. Between stomach pains and a recurring headache for 5 days straight, I wasn't exactly at the top of my game. Then the icing on the cake was a last minute directive at work on Wednesday afternoon that I was going to have to teach a software training class on Thursday, because my colleague who was supposed to do it had to stay home with her sick son. Typically I get 4-6 weeks warning about training, so I was pretty panicked. I told my boss this and he basically told me - in a nice way - that his expectations were pretty low, so don't sweat it. Wow! Gee thanks.

The class actually went fine and now I get to palm off a far less appealing (2 day) training class to my co-worker as payback for having to cover for her. But even so, I was really happy when Shabbat came around this week, and spent a nice day with friends.

This has not been the case for the last several weeks.

Right after Shavuot a spiritual ennui set in and I've had a hard time trying to shake it. Last Shabbat found me seething with resentment for all the creative activities I couldn't pursue until after sundown. Of course I felt guilty for feeling that way, immediately spoiling any shred of joy left in the day.

It got me thinking about my time as a college bookstore manager. I was in charge of everything that wasn't a book (sweatshirts, school and dorm supplies, groceries, etc.) and I couldn't find a decent assistant to save my life. This was mostly due to the fact that I was not allowed to do my own hiring, but instead had a parade of dysfunctional sadsacks foisted on me.

Finally I discovered a very mature student who had a schedule that would work for this position, and lobbied for her to get the job. Everything was great until I had to leave for a trade show for 4 days.

I left her a list of maybe 20 items to work on while I was gone. I thought that she understood that I was not expecting her to finish everything on the list - just to work on as much as she could until I got back. The list was extra long so she wouldn't run out of things to do and would have work to assign to other students during that time.

Apparently that was not clear to her. She found the list completely overwhelming and gave up on the whole thing. When I got back to work I found out she had quit.

I find the list of mitzvot in Judaism and the restrictions for Shabbat completely overwhelming, however I do not want to give up on the whole thing. I don't want to lose what progress I've made over the last 8 months towards being more Shabbat observant, just because of a few setbacks.

So I guess what I'm saying is I'm fully committing to work on my list even though I may never be done.

Shavua Tov!

Mischievous Monkey

Our little angel, KosherCop, seems to have entered a lying phase. Perhaps lying is too strong a word. But his excuses for bad behavior lack a certain "truthiness."

On a good day he has a real problem with soap - he uses way too much of it. When he finishes washing his hands the sink is usually overflowing with soap bubbles (literally - he sometimes has to call for help to stop the bathroom from turning into a Brady Bunch episode).

This week, however, we ran out of handsoap - no big surprise. Since I have banned antibacterial soap from the house and all KosherCook could find on 2 shopping trips was the offending contraband, we have been reduced to using KosherCop's baby shampoo. After all, gentle soap is gentle soap and there was plenty of it. "Was" being the operative word.

I came home from work yesterday and the shampoo was almost gone! When I asked KosherCop about it he looked me in the eye and told me he had nothing to do with it. Then he offered an elaborate tale of aliens who came and emptied the shampoo into the toilet. Ah! A kernel of truth. Eventually I got the full story of how he did in fact dump the shampoo out into the toilet because he "felt like it".

We decided his punishment was going to be helping with chores until we felt he had "earned" back enough money to pay for more soap. He now thinks soap costs about $30. But wouldn't you know it- despite being punished - I woke up this morning and looked in the bathtub and...more shampoo. KosherCop admitted it right away this time with a shrug and a "sorry" that was more like "too bad for you" than actually "I'm sorry."

We added no TV to the punishment. Unfortunately this also was a punishment for KosherCook, since chores don't really get done alone by our 4 year old, and no TV meant no small break for KosherCook.

Luckily, the unpleasantness of the lying phase is being counteracted by a period of extreme expressiveness that is actually quite charming. For the last few nights KosherCop has found the dinners that we served so delicious that he "felt like he was floating up to the ceiling." He used a similar phrase tonight to describe general happiness (like I'm floating into a lake with you Mommy), so I asked him to describe how he felt when he was unhappy and when he was angry. His answers were "like I'm in a dumpster" and "like I stubbed my toe and it's bleeding" respectively. Wow!

I guess this sort of delightfulness is what keeps us from leaving our kids on the side of the road when times get lying trying.

Monday Moments

Mondays are always rife with insanity, especially after a long weekend. Here are a few noteworthy moments out of my Monday.

Annual Review:
I had my annual review at work today. I've been at the same company now for 4 years and the review process is as inscrutable as ever. My supervisor has pretty much abandoned preparing anything beforehand, and instead we decide together what my review should say.

There is a part of the document where he is supposed to rate my performance in various areas on a scale of 1 to 6 (Why 6? It may as well go to 11!), but instead he had me rate myself while we were sitting there. After the third time I rated myself a 6, I asked if maybe he saw a pattern emerging.

I told him the story of how in the 3rd grade we had an assignment to invent a machine and create a poster about how it worked. I came up with a really imaginative machine and made a great poster, complete with molded aluminum foil letters for the title. When we turned in our posters our teacher asked us to evaluate them and write down what we could have done better. Being a perfectionist, I noted the slightly skewed handwriting that I would have preferred be straighter if only I'd had more time.

She made me do it again. The second poster sucked, but the letters were straight. My mother (Z''L), furious, issued the edict that as I traveled the road of life, anytime I was in a similar situation, I was to say that my work was exemplary and nothing needed improvement.

My boss got a good laugh out of this story. Then he gave me a four.

Death by Pastry:
On my commute home today there was almost no traffic for the first half of the trip. I was going at a pretty good clip, kind of daydreaming and driving on auto-pilot. I've considered actually driving this route blindfolded - I think I could do it, but I hear it's frowned upon. Suddenly, I was dragged screeching into consciousness by the rapidly approaching rear end of a tractor-trailer that was braking in front of me.

I slammed on my brakes. But even as I held my breath and prayed that I hadn't waited too long for a tuneup, a part of me was strangely exhilarated.

The back end of the truck was emblazoned with the Entenmann's logo. I was about to crash into a truck full of pastry and a small part of my brain was not participating in the survival exercise at hand. Instead it was fantasizing about hitting the gas and becoming airborne. I would fly into the air a la Thelma and Louise, crash through those dessert covered doors and magically alight amid an avalanche of chocolate-covered donuts and soft baked cookies.

Needless to say the smarter, less interesting part of my brain prevailed.

And finally...

World's Worst Driving Dad Award
Again, on my commute home - a couple of blocks from home I decided to stop for a yellow light instead of gunning through it. As I slowed to a stop, I noticed the driver behind me, who had apparently been tailgating me, looking for all the world as if he was about to rear end an Entenmann's truck. Only he looked pissed. Scary pissed, like he might get out of his car and start banging on my window pissed.

I kept my eye on him while were at the light and I suddenly realized there was a very small, very young head just visible over the dashboard in the passenger seat. I also realized he was staring at me in my rearview mirror - he could see me watching him. So he started inching forward and repeatedly stopping the car short while gritting his teeth at me .

That's right - angry scary dad was playing road rage games with a very small child sitting in the front seat - with not even a seat belt apparent on the child.

Bravo, Road Rage Dad! You win the prize for Scariest Schmuck on a Monday!

We Had a "Dutch Wonderful Day"!

We spent the 4th of July at "Dutch Wonderland" in Lancaster, PA. Some wonderful friends of ours had extra passes and invited us along.

Now, I have never been a theme park kind of person. I can't usually stand the crowds, noise and heat. But this place is great. All the rides are geared to kids under 8, there is no annoying carnival music being blared out of every ride (at the same time) and there is a Kosher food concession on the premises.

And everyone who works there says, "Have a Dutch Wonderful Day!" How can you beat that?

Many of the rides are so small and tame that KosherCop and his friend were able to go on alone. And the ones that needed an adult were completely enjoyable despite my aversion to rides. There was only one that I didn't want to go on - the log flume - and that was pretty much only because we had been there all day and the fine drizzle that had been completely tolerable for the first 6 hours, had changed to actual rain. But our friends were kind enough to take KosherCop on with them one last time before we left.

The only ride KosherCop really didn't like was the "Fun Slide." This is a really, really, really tall slide that you have to ride down in a burlap sack. I couldn't bring myself to go up this thing - I had just discovered earlier on the "Sky Ride" cable cars that I can add "fear of heights" to my growing list of previously unknown phobias. But KosherCop was tall enough to slide alone and insistent that he wanted to go on, so off he went. I watched as my little boy carried his giant burlap sack up this very tall narrow set of aluminum steps, while I repeatedly pestered the ride attendant to make sure someone really was at the top to help him get into the sack and make sure he didn't fall down the slide.

I watched as he got into the sack (actually, sort of seated on it with his feet wrapped in the bottom of it) - with the help of an attendant at the top. I watched as he looked around not sure what to do. I watched as he saw the people next to him start themselves off and figure out how to get himself going with his hands. And then I watched as a look of sheer terror crossed my son's face as he flew down this ridiculously tall slide.

He got to the bottom just in time for relief to replace what would have been tears in another second, and then he almost collided with the person on the next slide over as he tried to extricate himself from the sack.

I felt absolutely horrible for letting him go alone and swore I would go with him next time if he wanted to go again. When he came out of the exit I asked him if he had fun and looking shellshocked, he said, "Yes. But I won't be doing that again!" Oh, such a brave sensible boy my KosherCop is!

It also turned out that KosherCook had been there as a kid. His mother told him this just before we went and as we walked around he started recognizing bits here and there - from almost 40 years ago.

Anyway, it was a completely lovely day, not in small part due to the wonderful company of our friends. When it was finally time to go home, KosherCop passed out 3 seconds after we got into the car. We drove back to Maryland in the rain and fog, hoping that the fireworks might be postponed due to weather so maybe we could catch them the next night. To our delight, as we drove East on Interstate 83, fireworks began exploding on either side of us the whole way back. Not only didn't we miss them, but we got to see a dozen more displays than we would have seen back home.

Happy Birthday USA!

Low Cost Chemical-Free Pest Control

We have a terrible ant problem in our house.

We discovered it about 2 months after we moved in seven years ago. I don't know what sort of 24th century force field the previous owners had installed while they were showing the house, but we certainly didn't see any ants until we owned the place.

At first we called Terminex to come and vanquish the truly impressive marching brigade that had taken over our basement. The ants were like a tiny Roman army - very imposing - we were not equipped to handle them ourselves. Apparently, neither was Terminex. I'm not sure what the white powder that they threw all over the place was made from, but I'm guessing chips and dip from the reaction the ants had.

They strengthened their resolve and marshalled their forces. The Terminex guy kept saying we had to wait - it takes time to destroy such a large nest. Meanwhile, I'm pretty sure I saw an ad in Ant Times Weekly with our address and the words "party like it's 50 B.C.E." on it.

So we fired Terminex and hired Orkin. And for six years Orkin reigned supreme. We had two years almost ant-free after they used some ant baits with their secret sauce. But eventually we started seeing ants again and Orkin never really called us back when we'd ask for an additional spraying.

Finally, we got to the point where we had to ask ourselves why we were paying them. We kept writing them checks and they kept spraying poison all over our house - inside and out - and we still had ants.

So at the end of last summer I ended our contract and up until this past April we couldn't tell the difference. We saw about the same amount of activity as we had the previous winter - the ants are always less active in the winter anyway.

Then suddenly in April we discovered why we had been paying them. As many ants as we had with all of the pest treatments, we had a zillion more without it.

And let me tell you, they were driving me nuts. The problem is we can't figure out what they want. We're not getting big trails that would show us where they are coming in. If that was the case it would be easy enough to spray them and plug up their point of entry.

No, our ants are aimless wanderers and sullen loners. They just sort of meander here and there. They don't seem to want our sweets or even our crumbs, which I had to forbid KosherCop from intentionally leaving out for them. He kind of likes the ants and wants to feed them, viewing them as a one-crumb-at-a-time alternative to sweeping.

Finally, after trying various baits and home remedies like vinegar (sort of works), cinnamon (only 60% effective but it smells nice), and borax (totally worked in our master bath, but I can't see putting it where KosherCop could get into it) I was just about ready to break down and sign a new pest control contract.

But I noticed there were fewer ants. I figured it was just a low ebb in the normal cycle of activity.

Not so. It was not "ebb," it was "web." Spider web that is.

That's right. Our poor housekeeping has finally paid off. Several spiders have set up shop in various corners of the house, and are doing a fantastic job of catching the ants. They were able to figure out where the ants were coming in and take advantage of the best traffic areas.

And I'm letting them stay. They're free, they aren't bothering anyone and they don't leave fumes for half a day after they kill an ant. So unless I find a particularly disgusting web at eye-level or near food, for instance, they are our new eco-friendly pest management system.

Go spiders!

Commuter's Whine

I had one of those mornings today that only seems funny when it happens to someone else.

First I sat in traffic on 270 and the Beltway for an hour and a half on my commute to work. Anyone familiar with this area will say, "So what?" because it's more noteworthy when you don't sit in traffic for at least an hour.

But, stay with me. I'm just setting the stage - trying to make you understand the headache I had when I finally arrived at work.

I don't eat breakfast at home - I take it with me - mostly because there is free Starbucks at work and I really would much rather have my coffee with my breakfast. Also, I get to work at 10am to beat the traffic (it usually works better than today).

So I arrived at work after 11am, starving, aggravated, and suffering from caffeine withdrawal (oh, right, for any of you who remember my swearing off coffee - Joe's back with a vengeance - as soon as my stomach problems were under control I was back on the java.)

Of course, when I went to get the coffee I only was able to squeeze out a quarter cup before getting that insulting noise of an empty airpot - like a big mechanical raspberry - that I always take personally. I dutifully refilled the pot - after threatening 2 other employees with bodily injury for getting between me and the coffee filters - and walked back to my desk.

Five minutes later I returned to the kitchen to get the fresh coffee and I see one of the network guys on his hands and knees, mopping up the floor - which is covered with coffee!

"It wasn't me!" he announced before asking for more paper towels.

"I think it may have been me. But I swear I only pushed the button on the coffee machine once!"

I racked my brain trying to think what I could possibly have done to cause such a mess, but couldn't come up with anything. I helped him clean up, wondering all the while if it would be bad form to see if any coffee was left in the pot first, or make more, or maybe lick the floor while I was sopping up the coffee. (Yes...yes, it would have been bad form - so I didn't.)

Finally most of the evidence of my mishap was safely hidden in the trash and I could move on to more important things - like pumping my bloodstream full of shade grown, free trade, chemicals.

I moved the pot and was surprised it was almost empty. Since I couldn't figure out what my mistake was I had assumed that the machine malfunctioned and just kept brewing coffee until Network Guy shut it off.

But if it was empty that would mean the pot must be leaking?

So I picked it up over my head to look at the bottom - and was promptly showered with the last dregs of coffee in the pot - right out of the spout. Yes - it was that kind of morning.

Apparently the doohickey that goes into the airpot and is responsible for sucking up the coffee and spitting it out into my cup was a little overzealous. It had taken matters into it's own hands and as the coffee went out into the pot, syphoned it right back out again directly onto the floor.

That must be why most people take this part of the coffee pot out before they brew the coffee. Live and learn.

I paid my hush money to Network Guy and Receptionist Lady, who he had called over to ask about taking a mop to the sticky floor, and headed back to my desk with my cup of coffee... very very carefully.

Fall CSA Program

It's very exciting! We've decided that the response to our synagogue's CSA has been so positive, that we are going to offer a Fall Program.

Since there is another more established CSA in our area that uses the same farmer, we can look at what they received last year for any given week to get an idea of what will be in our box.

I was really surprised by the vegetables that arrived from late September to late November, when the fall season will run.

I always assumed it was all squash and root vegetables, but behold the mouth-watering assortment of produce we have to look forward to:

• cabbage
• winter squash
• lima beans
• white sweet potatoes
• sweet peppers, green and red
• broccoli
• apples, low/no spray
• kale
• eggplant
• carrots
• parsnips
• white turnips
• yellow turnips (rutabaga)
• celery root (celeriac)
• radishes
• leaf lettuce
• lettuce greens
• Chinese cabbage
• Swiss chard
• beets
• collards
• head lettuce
• pumpkin
• red bell peppers, sweet
• leeks
• mixed greens
• herbs
• hot peppers in a bag
• tomatoes
• Asian pears (No Spray)

If I had stopped to think about it this makes sense - what with fall being all about the harvest. I mean we only have a Jewish holiday (Sukkot) and an American holiday (Thanksgiving) centered around this harvest during this time period.

I'm reading Barbara Kingsolver's book Animal, Vegetable, Miracle: A Year of Food Life about how she and her family eat only what they can grow themselves or can find locally for one year. One of the things she talks a lot about is how unbelievably clueless most of us are about when the actual growing season is for most fruit and vegetables. Thanks to decades of being able to purchase anything from anywhere at any time of the year, we are all as spoiled as the vegetables left on a Sunday night at the local supermarket.

The way she presents the progression of the growing season makes a lot of sense. She asks us to imagine all the vegetables and fruits we eat as part of the same plant:

"To recover an intuitive sense of what will be in season throughout the year, picture an imaginary plant that bears over the course of one growing season all the different vegetable products we can harvest. We’ll call it a vegetannual. Picture its life passing before your eyes like a time-lapse film: first, in the cool early spring, shoots poke up out of the ground. Small leaves appear, then bigger leaves. As the plant grows up into the sunshine and the days grow longer, flower buds will appear, followed by small green fruits. Under midsummer’s warm sun, the fruits grow larger, riper, and more colorful. As days shorten into the autumn, these mature into hard-shelled fruits with appreciable seeds inside. Finally, as the days grow cool, the vegetannual may hoard the sugars its leaves have made, pulling them down into a storage unit of some kind: a tuber, bulb, or root."

- from an excerpt of her book in Orion Magazine

Using this imagery (which you can see an illustration of at animalvegetablemiracle.com), it makes perfect sense that asparagus (shoots) are one of the earliest vegetables to arrive in early spring, then green leafy vegetables, then later the fruits with lots of seeds like eggplant and peppers, and then the gourds.

I feel kinda dumb (for not thinking of it before), yet enlightened.