Being around plants is good for you.
People are happier touching and caring for green living things. It brightens my day to be part of a Big Garden. Imagine how I felt to see my very first radish popping up out of the dirt!
While I am home on vacation this week, I am happy watching things grow in my backyard, taking in every new leaf, bud and blossom in amazement. Basil, arugula, all kinds of lettuce, tomatoes, celery and herbs are now my inbox inhabitants.
Edible emails from the universe.
A whole row of ruddy little radishes with tousled green leaves will find their way into something my nineteen year old son, Remy, calls Oh Wow Radishes! It is a roasted radish crostini that you can make in less than half an hour.
Here’s how to make someone you love say Oh Wow! to your radishes:
Oh Wow Radishes!
Make sure you have:
A bunch of radishes
Olive oil (I keep a jar of oil with chopped garlic – it’s my Secret Stuff. You should, too)
Salt & pepper (Try grinding sea salt and pink, green and black peppercorns. Come on, you know you’re worth it.)
Half a stick of butter
A tin of anchovies (about 8 fillets, finely chopped)
4 big garlic cloves (not necessary if you have a jar of you-know-what)
Red pepper flakes
8 slices of crusty bread, nicely toasted
OK, take a bunch of rosy red radishes and remove the leaves, stems and tails. Cut them into chunky half moons lengthwise.
Cook radishes in enough oil to cover the bottom of a large skillet until they are lightly seared and tender, 4-6 minutes. Season with salt and pepper.
In another skillet, melt the butter and stir in anchovies, garlic, red pepper flakes and about 8 tablespoons of oil. Simmer for about 5 minutes.
Brush each slice of toasted bread with sauce and top with radish half moons. Spoon a little more sauce on top, sprinkle with parsley and serve with a smile.
Get more Wow!
If you want style notes and more for people who change the world, please check out:
Getting to Wow! to feel good, do good and look good
Nonprofit Knitwear for all things knit and nonprofit
Style Notes from me, your artspy
Hoong Yee
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Thanks so much! I really appreciate your help.
Word of mouth is the best way to share, don’t you agree?
One thing about being in a house with three boys – yes, I mean three including Seth, my husband – is that I have no choice but to live by my wits, being outnumbered. One of my tactics is to keep cool. No matter how strong the temptation is to shriek, “Are you kidding me??!!!” to whatever madness they toss at me, a perfectly calm demeanor is a must. But my favorite tactic works magic like mojo every time. This, dear reader, worked like a charm as we faced one of summer’s greatest challenges – the assigned reading assignment.
“Oh crap! I can’t believe I have to read this book about a journey of an interpretive dancer searching for herself in the inner landscape of her wounded soul while snowshoeing across a frozen lake in the middle of the night.” Frowning, Sky flipped through the pages of his book, his eyes zeroing in on the thickness of the spine. “Almost two inches I have to go through before she finds herself.”
“Listen, all she needs is a guy in a sleeping bag and she’ll know exactly where to find herself. That and a bunch of blood sucking freaks should do it.” Seth is always of the opinion that a story with no plot can be instantly redeemed with sex, scary monsters or aliens. He sent me The Look meaning: kids, what do they know?
“What the heck is a flocked floral foil damask?” Sky barked. Now mind you, I could have easily piped in with an answer to that one but I sensed this could be going somewhere else and I was a bit intrigued. “Hey Remy! I bet you can’t say that three times fast without spitting on yourself!”
“You’re on! flockedfloilflookdaskockfooflalskdoraloildamflofloffloffask!“ Remy gurbled triumphantly. Never was he one to back down from a challenge. To this day, I am still amazed how he can burp the alphabet backwards. “Keep reading. That book has cool stuff.”
Clearly I have little to add to this exchange other than the ability and now, the obvious desire, to escape into the kitchen, wring my hands and wail – Why can’t we ever have a normal conversation?
When you have a not-so-little boy glaring at his summer reading assignment you will be faced with many grunts and growls, perhaps even a one syllable answer of, “Boring!” whenever you ask him about the book. When you have a husband sprawled over the den couch clutching the remote and a larger teenage boy doing his best to say “flocked foil floral damask” three times between gulps of soda you will have a situation on your hands that calls for cake.
A cake to fill the air with the sounds of its making and the scent of its baking. A cake that brings the boys following their noses back to the kitchen table. An everyday kind of cake to go with everyday conversation or tongue twisters. Such a cake I will be happy to share with all of you. It is by Molly Wizenberg who writes the oh so charming Orangette blog.
A slice of this cake would be perfect enjoyed on the porch on a late summer afternoon. We intend to have ours with a fresh fig from my friend Sophie’s garden. Whatever fruit comes your way will be a splendid companion to this cake.
No, I can’t make the assigned summer reading assignment go away or say anything three times fast in polite company. I will however, be at the ready to make sure there is cake to confront the madness.
And, dear reader, if you have happen to know a great summer reading book for an eleven year old who likes horror movies, please let me know!
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