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Recipe: fish-flavored eggplant

I am approaching the end of chemo season, about to start radiation season. That’s part of the reason I haven’t been able to cook much lately. Too many appointments for X-rays, blood draws, port removal, consultations, etc. It’ll settle down eventually. Meanwhile, I’ve been trying to ready the patio furniture for the season of unrelenting sun and thunderstorms:

oil rejuvenates

Another unfortunate occurrence this time of year is the inevitable crashing of little hummingbirds into our vast expanse of windows. We’re in the midst of searching for decals to deter the crashes, but not soon enough to prevent one this morning. Luckily, the little dude was merely shocked and had not broken his neck like two others this past weekend.

a little male broad-tailed hummingbird

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Recipe: guacamole

Christine had commented on the avocado mound that was sidling up next to the stacked enchiladas from a few days ago. Funny that, since I was planning to blog it! She’s an observant one.

My first true exposure to the beauty of avocados was the first time I lived in California. My pal, Melinda, had two giant avocado trees in her backyard and she always asked me to make the guacamole whenever they hosted parties for the club volleyball team. Then before we’d head home for the evening, she would grab me by the arm and foist a grocery bag full of avocados on me. “Take these!” she would insist. Gladly, Mel.

the goods: avocados, sweet onion, tomato, jalapeño, garlic, lemon, salt

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Recipe: stacked enchiladas

looking from the other side
I lived in Southern California for a total of ten years. My friends in States With Real Winter used to send me hate email in January for posting pictures on my blog of things like barbecue parties on our patio with fat, juicy oranges dangling off of the verdant trees in the background. I love California winter. Winter in California is what I think summer should be. Of course, the moment March rolled around I wilted until November. But now I live where I get many good months of winter and the summers are tolerable (it can still get hot at 8500 feet). We mountain folk are smug little bastards. When I talk to Boulderites I refer to their town as “the flats” and I like to remind them that they don’t even know cold, snow, and especially wind. When I regard them from my home, I literally look down at them. Okay, but where the hell is this going?

Cindy posted about some beautiful baking she did this weekend, and it is indeed beautiful. Then I notice these flowers that adorn the cake and cupcakes and I’m thinking those are awfully pretty - I wonder where she got… And she writes that she traipsed outside to her yard and plucked these flowers and I’m imagining Bambi and friends gathered about and waving hi and little bluebirds singing while they do her hair. WTF? People think I’m joking when I say our growing season is on the order of a few weeks. California has two lettuce seasons. TWO. Let’s see here, if I go outside in my yard I find these:

d.e.d.: dead

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