Last night, as I cooked my dinner, a certain satisfaction rolled over me that only comes around this time of year when the fields at the farm and my own garden are exploding with goodies. I knew where most everything came from.
With the exception of the oils and some of the spices, I went down the list of my ingredients and I could identify the origin of each one. The menu: Asian inspired stir fry with a grilled pork chop.
My list began with the grilled bone-in pork chop- bought from a local berkshire hog farmer. Yum. The stir fry started with a perfectly round sweet white onion that resembled an eye ball and the hollow green onion tops its optic nerve- just pulled from my garden that morning and so fresh I could barely see through the sulfuric-acid-inspired tears as I chopped it. Garlic, snatched from my stash, drying in my garage. Long strips of julienned vibrant orange and red carrots and quarter-inch-thick wheels of dark and light green striped zucchini both from the farm followed by a swollen yellow summer squash from my garden. I threw in some dried Thai chili pepper flakes from last year’s bounty and basil from my herb patch. Honey to sweeten the mix was harvested from my boyfriend’s hive last year. Even the salt, though coming from the other side of the world and no where near local, came from a friend’s trip to Indonesia- colorful tiny straw baskets filled with about two tablespoons of salt. The black pepper, soy sauce and peanut oil were mysteries, but all in all, most things were grown within a 10 mile radius.
While working on the farm, I can concocted the next meal. I steal expectant glances at the green tomatoes, just starting to blush red and I anticipate the sauces and salsas in my future.