There’s no water for this type of dousing. We are deep in drought.
Our new normal.
It’s funny-annoying when I hear folks talk about the coming autumn ‘just around the corner’, these folks not living in Texas, obviously. They show boasting photos of their onion harvest or the growing masses in their pumpkin patch.
I gaze confused at their plans for weekend fall foliage drives as we daily read the thermometer at 90 to 100 degrees in the shade, with two months yet to endure before some reasonable relief is to be expected.
I feed my imagination while gazing out the window while doing the dishes. It’s much less of a chore these days, even while we are cooking almost constantly and have no automatic dishwasher.
The birds and bees and the flowers that can survive in this misery are my refuge. I’ve made the mistake in the past of stopping the feeders well before the summer dirth, thinking the birds were more migratory and it was better for them to move on. I’ve completely changed my mind, we have constant activity at the feeders, which rejuvenates my mood sans cesse.
The bird at the feeder here is the gorgeous, but shy, Painted Bunting, I’m thrilled they’re coming so close.
What’s not dead yet? The basil, which becomes such good pesto. The luffa, which is not irrigated presently, but still produces fruit for the pigs and for sponges, as well as continual pollinator forage.
The jalapenos, for making Hubby’s fantastic poppers, with our homegrown-homemade bacon, 2 different raw milk cheeses and baked till bubbly and brown.
So yum!
It’s almost impossible to believe our neighbors used to be able to grow peaches and pecans here without irrigation. Now even with irrigation we can’t grow them. Or plums and even pears are hit or miss. Figs as well, which is the biggest disappointment of all for me, because I so love figs.
Luckily, we can still rely on plenty of fig leaves, which is my favorite way to age cheese this time of year. The leaves are also wonderful for flavoring ice cream, tea and kombucha. The scent is unique and unmistakable, slightly floral with undertones of coconut and vanilla, but not sweet, more like mildly grassy.
Of all the failed fruits this year, we were not disappointed by the grapes. Soon I’ll be making jam and wine while I hide from the heat in the cool kitchen. Cooking is definitely my main summer doldrum douser. I even got a trial subscription to America’s Test Kitchen, of which I’m taking full advantage.
They actually have a few interesting free episodes about cheese, my favorite topic. As much as I’ve followed in the footsteps of the cheese-snob in generally criticizing American cheeses and our popular preferences for pasteurization and manufactured faux-cheese-like substances, we do a few of the bad things really well, like mac and cheese.
Fun fact I learned, the trick behind the creamy, saucy American version of mac and cheese is all about the science, and the science spells NACHO. 😆
Seems to me what the science is actually attempting to trump is refinement.
The art and craft of maturing cheese, affinage, is typically translated as ‘aging’. In fact a better word would be ‘refining’. Refining is the difference between nacho cheese and aged Parmesan. It’s important to understand the difference, no matter which is preferred.
Is taste in the tongue of the taster? Or is there objectively refined taste, as refined art, and refined beauty? I say yes. One who prefers nacho cheese over aged Parmesan is fine, but would we want that taste setting the standards? I say no.
For me, the doldrums are doused mostly by refinement–by taste, art, craft, imagination, potential–wherever I can find it.
Even here, where others might see sex and seduction, I see mainly refinement. I see taste, art, craft, imagination, and the enormous amount of discipline those take. I am awed and humbled by what’s possible. There’s absolutely no room for the doldrems in that place!
How about you, what’s your favorite recipe for dousing the doldrums?
