The Cluttered Pantry

During the adoption process the Siberian courts actually considered our little “victory” garden (an above ground box set up along the whole side of our backyard- built by Mark as an Mother’s day gift when we first moved to Chicago, because our ground soil is ummm suspect at best for lead and other oddities of urban decay) further proof that we’d be fit parents for the Wee Kahunas. So it was with some extra excitement and insanity that at the beginning of Spring, which here in Chicago was still bitter cold until late May, the girls and I planted our first garden together.

In years past I’ve mostly planted what we refer to as the sauce garden (tomatoes, cilantro, jalapenos, spring onions for salsa: tomatoes, basil, oregano, for marinara and basil and garlic for pesto). But with our tiny vegetable addicts in tow (we may be the only home where the words “yes, but if you’ll just eat one more bite of cookie I’ll let you have some more broccoli” are actually said in earnest.), our expansion included beets, tomatoes, basil, mescalun, and mixed baby lettuces, pumpkins, cucumbers and then a garden full of sunflowers because, to a child, watching a seed grow to be a plant 8 feet tall, and topped by a plate-sized “sunshine”, is pure magic.

So gardening and harvesting veggies has been an ongoing theme all summer. The planting was haphazard at best, little hands tossing too many seeds in not so much a straight line. But the results have been stellar. I seriously have four times the basil than past years, and the sun flower and pumpkin patches are taking over the place in an amazing “secret garden” kind of way. The girls love it, I love cooking with ingredients we have grown on our own, and as a bonus, when we hit our local produce shop they pay a new kind of attention as we shop and ask why we didn’t plant those (as they point to any number of bright colored peppers, squashes and heirloom tomatoes.)

But today we hit a learning and language snag. We walked past a section of large bulb eggplants and our 4 year old asked what they where (try to picture the wide eyes of a person concerned that they just met a creature ready to eat them) the shape and color was enough to cause dismay and interest, but when I identified them as “egg plants” both girls started to chatter. “no mommy eggs white” “Elena eat eggs and cheese” and on and on.

Nothing I said could get past this naming gaff until we turned the corner and spied the Japanese Egg Plants. Ohhhh THAT is why they are called that. They LOOK like eggs. (I actually said this a loud. Which is unfortunate proof that I had never seen them before and didn’t have an answer for the girls questions until just that moment.

Excellent! I know what we are planting next Spring. For now, these tiny actually-egg shaped lovelies turned out to be lighter in flavor, way less bitter, and perfect both sliced and roasted and smashed into our version of baba ganoush (for the mezzah plates we make so often here at home; wee kahunas Love hummus and falafel almost as much as their parents do.)

The recipe listed in the comments section doesn’t use tahini, if you read my post about yoga and Wee Kahunas you’ll understand that any place I can eliminate fat and calories, for the grownups, is a good thing. Try it, I think you’ll find that the lime and chile makes up for the other flavors and it’s still plenty creamy and rich (maybe more so with these Japanese egg plants than ever before.)

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