Garden Preoccupation

The time of year is here, the roomie and I anxiously anticipate harvesting the fruits of her labor from her plotted terrace in the backyard. All winter long we've thoughtfully added to the compost pile with our recyclable wastes. Creating, we hope, a garden to be envied. Never do you taste vegetables and fruits so fresh, then when plucked ripe from your own tilled earth. Squash, carrots, melons, peas, greens of chard, lettuce, spinach, peppers, tomatoes, strawberries, assorted herbs....mmmm. My mind is turning with images of recipes churning from our homey kitchen. The only trick is to keep the roving hound, Stella, out of the heaping mounds of glorious dirt--great for digging I presume, and wolfing down scrumptious, succulent veggies.

Last night, poignant memories of garden goodness instilled indelible tastes in my mouth while I salivated over an aged Rioja. Paired with a simple whole wheat rotini pasta tossed with zuchhini, tomatoes, red peppers, and pecorino cheese, my 2003 Baron de Ley Rioja Reserva, imported by Frederick Wildman, wrapped flavors of garden fresh aromatics around my olfactory senses. As the words flow, images of fresh turned soil penetrate savory reminisce of dill, tomato leaf, and sun-tanned fruits. So good on which to finish a Thursday night after Ab Ripper X and a long, hard week of Tony Horton, my goal of P90X.