Summer wonder and the garden

After market last weekend we went out to the islands for a few days of food and family. Sunday night we dragged the kayaks down to the beach. All along the spit the mast lights floated above the moorings; the moon hadn't yet risen, or else it was hidden by the smoke from the Vancouver Island fires. Every footsteps in the wet sand exploded with glitter. Each paddle stroke left trails of light. The scattering fish beneath us were like silent fireworks. I was wildly grateful to be there, with friends, in the presence of summer magic, full up with wonder. Wonderful. Somewhere in her collected works Mary Oliver must have a poem that captures the astonished joy of bioluminescence.

I came home to find my garden settling into summer, despite my neglectful watering habits (who waters their garden in June?). I finally had enough excess after the dinner harvest to fill up the fermenting crock, making my first kraut of the season. This one's an opportunistic mash up of green and purple cabbage, beets, a bit of fennel, the last of the scapes, and a pinch of caraway and juniper. And salt, of course. I love lactobacilli! They make everything better. What do you think about a sauerkraut sourdough bread? Maybe a light rye? I think it could work. Especially if the kraut were purple and made purple bread!

I also harvested my garlic and trimmed back the blooming herbs. As a result, I've replaced the Ancient Grains with a harvest special this week: roasted garlic herb bread. Yes, it's delicious. Come get one at the market tomorrow!