The dictionary defines garden variety as something ordinary or commonplace. My first thought is there is nothing ordinary or commonplace about food coming to the table from our modest little urban homestead. In fact it feels down right magical. I imagine the origin related to flowers but I'm going to roll with my interpretation.
The garden is thriving and I've been so busy with it and the house and smalls that I haven't had time to write about it.
Yesterday I came home to a find my husband had happily harvested our first potatoes:
Today I spent some time outside and came back with this:
This was our dinner:
-Beans and peas steamed until just tender-delicious with no seasoning
-Potatoes sliced and pan "fried" in the tiniest bit of butter seasoned with salt and pepper
-Carrots raw and crunchy
-Tomatoes (A gentle reminder that there are only two things in this world you can't buy. True love and home grown tomatoes.)
-Kale salad with a lemon shallot vinaigrette and goat cheese
I enjoy cooking and I tend to plan and prepare more cohesive meals, but I do not think I have ever been more pleased with something I put on the table.
This whole experiment started because I ran out of croutons one night. I really am an accidental urban homesteader. I was not prepared for how much joy and satisfaction would come from feeding my family from our little garden. I can't turn back now. I'm hooked.