As Persephone (or Proserpina, as she is known to the Romans) made her upsetting but carefully negotiated (six pomegranate seeds and all) return to Hades today, following the Autumnal Equinox and accompanied by the pouring-rain tears of her mother Demeter (who cried a lot in New York today), I made my return to the garden, after another two-week-long absence.
Main item on the agenda — harvesting the rest of the potatoes — proved unattainable today due to heavy precipitation, and therefore I took to the internets to celebrate the Atumnal Equinox and embrace the spirit of the Eleusinian Mysteries in a less muddy fashion.
Before retreating to cyberspace, I only had a few rain-free minutes to quickly inspect the garden. What I found (in addition to a few more tomatoes and quite a few butternut squashes) was a really disturbing crime scene!!! Someone ate half of my rainbow chard and sorrel! But wait, the most mysterious discovery was waiting for me at the bottom of the garden: a medium-size beet, pulled out of the ground, dragged downhill a few yards from its original location and left for . . . CONTINUE READING → Autumnal Equinox and a Not-So-Eleusinian Mystery
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– asparagus with crispy ginger — comes from Chez Panisse Vegetables, with a little variation: I added a little garlic to this one and it was just as triumphant. It’s one of the simplest recipes out there, but so delicious.
“Just fucking kill me, okay? I’m sorry guys, but I just can’t with fucking hemp milk and the organic farming and if I hear one more person say they love heirloom tomatoes, I’m going to fucking kill myself, okay? And did you know that we’re composting now? Oh yeah. Oh no, don’t throw that in the trash. You have to put it in the composting bin where all of the beautiful worms will turn it into this organic mulch and then we’ll all feel good about ourselves. I can’t do it, okay? I can’t fucking do it.”
Another fiery performance we saw tonight was The Last Goodbye — a simultaneously hypnotic and energetic marriage of Shakespeare’s Romeo and Juliet to the music of Jeff Buckley. However, love eternal is not containable within the bounds of WTF (Williamstown Theatre Festival) and the real focus of this post is not on the stage but on the ground. For the last couple of nights I’ve been seeing these little doughnuts of slug love bejeweling dew-covered grass at dusk.
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