Hot and dry

One of the books I’m reading for the Wisconsin Library Association awards is Tomboyland, by Melissa Faliveno. I read the first essay, The Finger of God, that’s partially about the tornado that clobbered Barneveld in 1984. The sirens didn’t go off, and the tornado killed 9 people and destroyed 90% of the structures in the town. That night in Madison, it was stormy and thunder-y and the sirens did go off. I was at home with Jeff and a couple of our deadhead friends, Brad and Tracy, and we were pre-gaming for going on Dead tour in a few weeks, listening to tapes. I think we went to Indianapolis, Cedar Rapids, and then two nights at Alpine Valley. The show before Indy in ’84 was Blossom in Ohio, and I think Brad & Tracy went, but Jeff & I did not – we went the next year because they opened with Day Tripper and Jeff was pissed at me, because something I did (wanting to stop at the bathroom, no doubt) caused us to not be in our seats on time for that.

And, just to show how much a part of my summers the Dead used to be, this morning I started reading the last essay in the book, Driftless, that starts off by talking about how hot and dry it was in the summer of 1989, actually kinda like how this summer of 2021 is shaping up to be. In ’89 there was no rain for more than fifty days. What I remember is on the third night of the three Dead shows at Alpine Valley that year, July 17, 18, and 19, that turned out to be the last time the Dead played there, although we didn’t know it at the time, it poured. I was a new graduate student – I’d started library school in January that year, and I was taking summer classes. I had two little kids – John was 2+ a little in July of ’89, and Al was about 9 months. I had also become a Birkenstock wearer by then, and at $65 a pair the shoes seems crazy expensive to me, and I was kind of appalled seeing all the rich kids from IL wreck their expensive shoes in the mud on the hill at Alpine. I think I was extra aware of shoes, because of having recently switched from spending most of my time in commercial kitchens to instead hanging out in classrooms & libraries on the UW campus. I felt like my work clothes became my Saturday clothes and vice versa. I wore running shoes, my kitchen shoes, to the show, myself. I also remember that one of our friends who lived in a farming community west of Madison said the rain on July 19 was lifesaver rain for the farmers there.

The Driftless essay has a passage about how it felt, in 1989, to be small town girls of 15, knowing the whole world was out there, but feeling stuck. And it reminded me that this weird re-opening after pandemic time we’re in now is making me feel like I did in high school, too. I’m awkward and unsure of myself, I want to get out there with other people, but I’m terrified of of it. I think our new term FOMO, that didn’t exist in 1989, is a big part of it, too.

So what have I been cooking, while still mostly stuck at home? Last Sunday was a 2-pie day, asparagus & ham quiche, and blueberry buttermilk pie. People seemed to like the pics of the blueberry buttermilk pie so much on insta, on Friday morning, I posted the recipe. It was good the first night, warmish with ice cream, and equally good chilled. I had some for breakfast on Tuesday and we enjoyed it several more times for dessert.

Monday night we had cheese slaw dogs, hot dogs with the last of this good pimento cheese I made for our Memorial Day sliders, and coleslaw. I didn’t have any cabbage but I julienne’d the bulb of kohlrabi from my CSA box, grated a carrot, sliced up a couple of scallions, and dressed it with my standard lemon juice, sugar, and mayo slaw dressing, and it tasted just like coleslaw. And potato salad.

Tuesday morning I went for a walk, and took a picture of this bush next door. It’s leaves will all be dark red by the end of the summer.

Tuesday for dinner I made Huevos Rancheros with that ranchero sauce I made last Saturday, and we ate them with refried beans and flour tortillas. I do think maybe I went a little heavy on the achiote paste, but the sauce is still pretty good.

Wednesday it was leftover pasta and the last of the challah turned into garlic toast.

Thursday I used the last veggies from CSA – salad turnips and spinach and scallions, mostly – and the meat from last week’s turkey shiitake lettuce wraps to make fried rice. It was pretty amazing to see how small an entire bunch of spinach, probably at least half a pound, got, once stir-fried into the rice. And equally amazing, after we served ourselves, to look over at Mark’s bowl and see how he’d manage to serve himself a portion almost entirely devoid of greens.

Some morning in there, Thursday I think, I made a batch of these banana muffins that I first made back in April when it got too hot and the bananas got too ripe too fast. Because same thing was happening this week. No pics this time but I tried sneaking in 1/2 cup buckwheat flour and I think the muffins are better for than if they were all white flour.

Friday we had an all pie dinner: re-heated ham and asparagus quiche and greens pie,  and we finished the buttermilk pie for dessert.

Saturday, on a quest for strawberries, we braved the big Farmers Market, its last time at it’s Covid location, the Alliant Center before it goes back to the Capitol Square next week.

We bought 3 quarts and within the space of about two hours, two of those quarts became these 3 jars of jam. I’m sure we’ll eat the rest, if not by Sunday night, for sure by Monday morning.