I know, I know, my posts have been few and far between recently. I’ve been averaging one a week for the last little bit. Pretty unacceptable, if you ask me. The thing is, I’ve been working my ass off lately and honestly, when I get home late, all I want is to do my best impression of a vegetable for an hour before I go to bed. Then, I don’t know, on top of that, March exploded with social activities and though I’m in no way complaining about having too many friends or too many restaurants to go to (oh boo hoo poor me), I have to admit that I miss my apartment and my cats and my trash tv just a little bit. I’m a bit of a homebody like that. So, sorry for the neglect. I can’t promise you it will get any better through the month of April, which is shaping up to be complete madness too. In the meantime, I’ll tell you about this tart, which has been on the roster for WEEKS now.
Well, we did it. If we make it through the next 8 hours, we’ve successfully finished another year. For me, this one was average at start, stressful in the the middle and exciting at the end. Who knows what next year will be. I can’t wait to see.
I joined a CSA this year. For those of you that are unfamiliar, CSA stands for “Community Sponsored Agriculture.” In a nut shell, city folk buy a share of a local farm and then receive produce every week from the farm in question. They’re popular in cities, where there’s far more concrete than green space and it can be taxing to find good, inexpensive produce. The first week, the veggie take was piddly and I thought we (I’m splitting a share with a friend) had made a huge mistake. But, as promised, as the growing season goes on, our weekly share is getting bigger and bigger. What’s fun and challenging about the whole set-up is that you don’t get to choose what you get—you get whatever is growing—which can mean that you have to get really really creative in order to use up all. That. Chard.
Well, I made it. I am officially 29. I’m not one of those people that’s afraid of getting older. Despite the fact that 30 is, actually, now looming, I’m nonplussed. I love the word nonplussed by the way; it’s just so underutilized. But no, I don’t mind that I’m almost 30; I’ve never really understood what all the fuss is about. I think birthdays are important…not because you’re kissing goodbye to another year, but just because it’s a milestone. It’s a time to tell the birthday guy or girl that you’re glad they’re here and you’re looking forward to the next year with them. I love planning birthdays; I want all my friends to feel loved on theirs. I looooove planning birthdays. Except mine. God please don’t make me plan my own.
A’ight, let’s just put it out there. These pictures are terrible. I made this pie after work one night. It was dark out, which makes picture taking hard enough, but apparently, I was also craaaaazy shaky. I mean, I’m always shaky-I’ll never be a brain surgeon-but some days are noticeably worse than others. This was one of them. All I’m saying is please please don’t let these busted photos turn you off, because this thing is a winner.
Is there anything better than sweet, caramelized onions? Maybe caramelized onions topped with herbed goat cheese, a slice of perfectly ripe heirloom tomato, slivers of basil all sitting on a round of puff pastry. Yeah, that’s definitely better. Ina, you’ve done it again.