imports and exports

“Jesus, help me to simplify my life by learning what you want me to be,
and becoming that person.”
St. Therese of Lisieux

(a lovely orange bell pepper / Julie Cook / 2018)

Here it is the height of the summer despite many school systems already heading back
for the start of the new school year.

Living down South, in a place where summer’s luscious produce is hitting its zenith, despite
the stores beginning to put out their fall and Thanksgiving goods, I happened to notice
an odd occurrence when stopping by the local grocery store.

I ran in the store in order to pick up a few things the other day and grabbed one
of the colorful bell peppers stacked ever so neatly on the grocery store’s produce shelf.

I usually prefer the red, yellow or orange varieties over the innocuous green ones as
they taste no different but add a splash of color to whatever one is preparing.

Once home, as I was putting away the groceries, I pulled out my bell pepper.
I looked at the tag stuck to the pepper, reading to see if my bell pepper came from
either Florida or California…all the while secretly hoping it would read Georgia.
It’s that time of the season you know here in Georgia—when gardens are now fully bearing
their long-anticipated fruits of a farmers labor.

Yet I am well aware that our Nation’s produce belts lie in our more temperate climate states…
States such as California and Florida…for various fruits and vegetables and places like
Nebraska or Iowa for corn.

However, imagine my surprise when I read that my beautiful bright colored pepper hailed from none
of the aforementioned states but was actually born and raised in Holland.

The last place I think of when I think of something like a bell pepper is Holland…as in this
low land, country is known for several other things besides bell peppers.
Beer yes, peppers no.

If I still had a garden, this is the time when my own peppers were coming into their own.
Would it not make more sense to have a pepper from right here in Georgia…
since this is our time of year for the likes of produce such as peppers???

Instead I picked a pepper, not a peck of peppers mind you, that had to actually come to me
via a cargo container…and yet despite an arduous journey from the land of canals and windmills
over the Atlantic Ocean, a beautiful orange pepper arrives at my grocery store…
looking pretty as the day it was most likely plucked.

Makes me wonder as to how this pepper has stood up so well during its travels from Holland
to my fridge here in Georgia.

And so yes, it may not be convenient for me to trek out to the local farmer’s market–
getting grocery items at the grocery store and produce items at the produce market and then
butcher goods from a local butcher (of which we no longer have in our smaller community)
I just might want to rethink my shopping habits as I would prefer a fresh locally grown
pepper as to this lovely trans Atlantic pepper.

And nothing against Holland nor this beautiful pepper…but I do prefer local when I can find it.

There are things that each country does well—think Chocolate form Belgium, Beer and sausages from Germany, olive oil from Italy, Spain and Greece…along with olives…
think wines from France, Italy, Portugal and yes, California…

We all have something that is indicative to each of our home nations…
products that we do well…and it should be noted that some nations have been
doing what it is they do now for centuries…

But when it comes to summer produce…well, I kind of prefer mine to grown a bit closer to home…
because Heavens knows that here in the South, we are in the height of the season…

Makes me think about my own seasonal worth and productivity…
that of my own exports and imports…

What has God labored over within me that is now ready for harvest…

And once harvested, it’s time to share…

“However great our efforts, we cannot change ourselves.
Only God can get to the bottom of our defects, and our limitations in the field of love;
only he has sufficient mastery over our hearts for that.
If we realize that we will save ourselves a great deal of discouragement and fruitless struggle.
We do not have to become saints by our own power;
we have to learn how to let God make us into saints.
That does not mean, of course, that we don’t have to make any effort…
We should fight, not to attain holiness as a result of our own efforts,
but to let God act in us without our putting up any resistance against him;
we should fight to open ourselves as fully as possible to his grace, which sanctifies us.”
Fr. Jacques Philippe, p. 14-5
An Excerpt From
In the School of the Holy Spirit

tiny jewels

“The earth is like a beautiful bride who needs no manmade jewels to heighten her loveliness…”
Kahlil Gibran

(a tiny bowl of tiny Sun Gold and Brandywine cherry tomatoes / Julie Cook / 2014

I love cherry tomatoes—those tiny little hanging orbs bursting forth with an explosion of summer all in one small bite. My husband on the other hand does not like cherry tomatoes. I suppose with his being the manly man that he is, cherry tomatoes must seem too tiny, too girly, too not worth it when wanting a “real tomato.

He rationalizes that 50 cherries would constitute one “normal” tomato—why bother with gathering up a million little ones, when truly, one decent sized tomato will do. How on earth do you make a tomato sandwich, that quintessentially summertime favorite, with teeny tiny little red balls?! And let’s not start on the fact that there are other colors for tomatoes than red. In his world, tomatoes are red and red only. In my world, they are white, yellow, purple, black, bumpy, striped, large and small.

I like my world.

He’s more of a big beef steak fan–a hardy Big Boy, a giant Better Boy or an acidic Rutgers.
They must be peeled and sliced thin. God forbid I leave the peel on. And let’s not talk about getting too creative like, say, roasting with olive oil, fresh thyme sprig, fresh rosemary, sea salt, garlic and olive oil. Is there any thing better—that heavenly aroma wafting through the house—serve over warm pasta or add to mixed greens, a drizzle of balsamic, add crumbled feta or perhaps chèvre, or slivers of pecorino romano —ummmmmm.

Each year, in our garden, my husband graciously yields to my desire for at least one plant of cherries and one plant of plums. Plums make some of the meatier tomato sauces as they are flavorful and do not render to mush when cooked.

How was I suppose to know that out of our 10 plants, now giant bushes, that 4 of them would turn out to be cherries?! I swear I had no idea! Honest!

I’ve grown full sized Brandywines and Sun Golds before. No where did the little marker, stating the type and variety of plant, did it state Brandywine cherry or Sun Gold cherry. Only one plant’s little marker stated Sun Gold cherries. The other’s read as a regular plant.

Imagine my surprise and his alarm, when the tomatoes started to form, that half of the tomato plants would be either cherries or plums. Who knew?

Oh well.
There will still be enough “normal” sized tomatoes to make his go to BLT’s but even more tiny tomatoes for a little extra creativity in the kitchen. . . sounds pretty good to me and pretty darn tasty 😉

and what does one do with all of that thyme on one’s hands…

saute fresh chopped/ sliced white button mushrooms in a little olive oil and butter. Add fresh ground pepper, a glug of red wine, a couple of dashes of Worcestershire, a little beef broth, a spoonful of William Sonoma beef demi glace, garlic powder, a dash of sea salt…and a generous handful of chopped herbs–thyme, chives, rosemary…..
serve over the sauteed cubed sirloins from the locally sourced cow….bon appetite

Allium schoenoprasum

The lowly chive. A boon to potatoes, pasta and salads. Tasty to eat, pretty to watch growing in the garden.
Boil petite new potatoes or cube larger ones. Drain potatoes and while hot, add butter or drizzle with olive oil, sprinkle with sea salt, freshly ground pepper, add a handful of chopped chives, toss and enjoy.