I write a lot here about the seasonal somethings that sweeten my life. But there is a constant worth so much more to me than anything that grows in the ground, any plant that comes and goes. There is a something in my world that grows every day and could never wilt away.
Exactly seven years ago, to the night, I found my perennial something. We dug into the ground and grew fast and full like sunflowers. It’s been up and up for the sky ever since.
Our close friends Binita and Jon got married on May 29th. It was an utterly unforgettable day that affirmed our sense of love, togetherness, and family. We basked in their happiness, ate to our heart’s content, danced like fools, and watched our companions for the night revel in eating figs straight off the lace-covered table. The sun and rain knew their time and place. The day was a work of art.
On our first summer Friday of the year, we found ourselves wandering the Upper West Side without a plan. We ended up in the gourmet mustard and vinegar shop Maille. We went in with a curiosity and came out with a jar of lemon and garlic mustard, a bottle of balsamic vinegar glaze, and a dozen tastes of mustard on our tongues. We drizzled the sweet balsamic over toast with tomato slices, feta cheese, and our lettuce from the farm. My stomach is begging to have this again.
Our 4th of July weekend was filled with sun, family, and green green green. To capture the essence of green in a jar, I made enough pesto to go around.
I followed Michael Chiarello’s recipe for arugula pesto, found here, but omitted the vitamin C (Jon: “because that’s weird”), added a bunch of basil, and threw in some toasted almonds since I was low on pine nuts. This sauce? She is beautiful and I love her.