Holy Melanzane

Ok, not an exact rhyme, but what rhymes with eggplant? Melanzane has much more going for it as a word. Meh-lahn-zahn-ay. So much prettier than egg-plant. Melanzane lilts, it rolls and sings somewhat seductively. Egg-plant makes me think of the sound that must be made when a large elephant sits down. Why am I going on about eggplant? Well, because friend M is away and asked if I would "do her the favor of eating from her garden." Um, yes! She and her fam have an incredibly productive plot that's smaller than my dining room table. I mean, talk about super-farmers. Their microfarm has tidy rows that maintain their cute little mounds as plants thrive like Jack's bean stalk. It's unreal.

M said there might be a few eggplant ready by today and also the herbs need pruning. Good god, people, look at this! We're having eggplant involtini tonight with homemade tomato sauce from friend A's tub o' toms. I also swiped a handful of sage as well as some basil to make plum-basil jam today. I am thanking the goddess of fruit that the peaches I picked on Friday are not yet quite ripe enough to deal with. Whew. I overpicked to a slight degree. Mercifully, the raspberries have thus far been happy in the fridge. Today I'll put them up too!

Look what I made for dinner last night. Apparently bucatini with fresh tomato sauce is the only pasta I can successfully make with regularity. So, again, but who's complaining!?

I am still high as a kite re: Benedict. This morning, Jack asked, "Just why do you think Benedict so much, Mom? I mean, you're the greatest mom ever but why?" I blushed and had no real answer. Think I stammered something like, "Well, you'll really like and admire people too as you grow. And also he's so cute." And I then ran out of the kitchen. So embarrassing.