The tomato holds a proud place in your boxes all year long, but in summertime she’s in full glory and flavor. As a hot season bonus, she is now joined by her sweet little cousin, the cherry tomato. Sometimes her banality makes us take the tomato for granted. Thus, this fruit of love, which marks the close of the trilogy of our summer Selenium family tale, takes the starring role in this week’s newsletter.
One hot summer day this week, I started thinking about summer. With so many folks out gallivanting the globe, the thought struck me that there are so many components of your summer boxes which started out around the globe as well.
One of these migrants from the American continent is the pepper, which takes a starring role in your boxes these days. The honorable pepper has now come for a long visit, scheduled to stay all the way till autumn.
It’s been such a hot week. While we complain and sweat and drink and try to cool ourselves off, there are actually those who are elated by the heat and humidity. One of them is the star of this week’s Newsletter!
At this very time, our eggplants are making their debut at Chubeza (to stay with us till autumn), as the sweltering outdoor temperatures remind them of their birthplace
Somewhere within the onset of the Great Heat, the middle of summer break, and the ideal moment for a family getaway, I had the chance to reflect a bit on the paradox of Family Vacations. My conclusion: they’re like summer itself – sometimes lots of fun, and sometimes sticky and crowded (and nearly unbearable). So in this vein, I thought I would tell you of some ancient families ties that accompany us throughout this scorching summer.
Two messages regarding Chubeza veggies: Our baladi eggplant has grown this year to really big dimenentions. It’s not because it was picked too late, it’s
Okra likes to prance around using her fancy name “Lady Fingers,” indicating that she must be treated with gentle respect. Before cooking, the tip must be gently cut off, taking care not to hurt the pod. In olden times, when a groom’s family wanted to “check out” a bride, they handed her a knife, a pile of okra, and put her to work. If she was able to properly slice it, this was a sign she was gentle and skilled.
Already 5,000 years ago, Chinese Caesar Shennong, considered to be the father of Chinese agriculture, declared soy one of the five most sacred types of grain essential to Chinese culture (together with rice, wheat, barley and millet). Its origins are in North China, from a wild plant named Glycine Ussuriensis.
The process of soy domestication, probably one of the first crops to be cultivated by man, began around the 11th century BC, both as food and for medicinal purposes.
It’s fascinating to ponder what this crop, which has served mankind from ancient times, has had to endure from when it was grown in Chinese fields over 5000 years ago mainly as green manure to improve the soil and enrich the earth for future crops. Today soy has morphed into a source for glue, dye, synthetic fiber, soap, ink, candles, lacquer, a rubber substitute, and of course, biodiesel fuel. From a sacred and dignified seed to a genetically-engineered, labeled, patented prisoner.
It’s been two full weeks since the official arrival of summer. At June’s end, we were rewarded several additional days of not-terribly-hot weather, but from last week, those long, scorching days moved in to stay.
These are indeed Days of Beginning – the beginning of summer, which is already knocking at our door, and the beginning of an abundance of vegetables. The hot temperatures and the long daylight hours propel the upright corn stalks to soar, bloom, struggle, fertilize and produce heavenly sweet yellow cobs. The cucumbers are now ripening at a brisk summer pace. We’ve already bid a fond farewell to the fakus, more of an “end-of spring” crop. The tomatoes are blushing furiously as they becoming tastier than they could ever get in winter, joined by their cute little cherry tomato sisters in the juicy, joyful red procession.
Each year, the summer brings a bevy of new vegetables, among them the rich array of tempting varieties of Chubeza’s squash and pumpkins. This ensemble comes in green, yellow, orange or beige, dotted and striped, smooth and coarse, round, elongated, pear-shaped, pinecone shaped, sharp, flat, small, large, and even extra-large. What a field day for the lovely colorful curcurbitas (Latin for a genus of the gourd family), all so beautiful and tasty!
This year we grew six different squash varieties, from the giant Tripolitanian pumpkin which can neatly transport a shoeless princess, through the middle-sized Napolitano pumpkin, the familiar butternut squash, the oh-so-orange Amoro squash, the distinctive spaghetti squash, all the way to the compact, fits-in-the-palm-of-your-hand green acorn squash. This broad range spans varieties that differ on the outside and within, varying in colors from yellowish green to salmon to dark orange, and in taste – a mild neutral flavor, or nutty or sweet, and in texture: moist and juicy, dry and starchy or long, thin spaghetti-style.
If these quantities seem overwhelming, fear not! We remind you that you needn’t use them right away. On your kitchen counter or in a wicker basket on the living room table, they’ll keep beautifully while enhancing your décor with a flair. If you keep them dry and ventilated, they’re good for another month or even two! If they start growing a thin spider-like web, just wipe it away with a dry cloth.