I got home. It was time for dinner. The rain had stopped for the first time all day. I ran to the roof. It had been a while since I’d had a garden salad, and Ben and I had been picking at vegetables for a few days, trying a radish here, a carrot here, too.
The newest batch of lettuce had grown to harvestable size, so I grabbed a handful. I love scallions, so I grabbed a love handle. I figured the carrots were ready, so I yanked one out. It was so huge I was nearly embarrassed. The radishes we’d sampled a few days ago were powerfully peppery, and I was feeling peppery, so radishes came along. Finished at the garden box, I stopped at the whisky barrel for some oregano (usually decorative, but I took leaves in a well-designed way).
Wash, chop (leave bigger chunks for more identifiable flavor), put waste back into compost. Supplemented with a few olives and feta cheese. Dressing should always be home made: 2 parts olive oil, 1 part red wine vinegar (I like it heavy on the vinegar. Add another part oil if you don’t), red pepper flakes, dried or fresh mustard, salt, pepper, fresh oregano. Pour over salad.
As I was eating, I was thinking about writing this post, right? Thinking about saying, “Be sure you wash everything well enough, as you’ve heard about the problems were having with aphids.” I was so smugly satisfied with getting them all off. But then, an adult green aphid comes climbing over a pile of feta, looking indignant at having been washed, chopped, dressed with vinegar. I did the only thing I could do to a creature who was determined to suck the sugar from the plants on our roof and therefore be filled with sugary sweetness. I win, aphid.