The front of our tiny abode, has the most light for growing things. But it also has the highest proportion of concrete. I try to pretty it up by putting out some of my larger rocks from places I love. Also this year (better than most, I'd say) I have spent more time gardening. I think I'm starting to see some results, because concrete or not, things like strawberries do just fine in a pot, as these humble beauties demonstrate. This picture was on Tuesday morning, before heading out.We met our friend K and her monkey over at their home and then proceeded to the beach. It was low tide; fantastic fun for squiggly little toes. We ran around, looking at little coils of pasty yarn, extruded from the muddy sand by some tidal critter. While we romped around, my eye caught a glimpse of a marble sized thing. What the.....is that some kind of bubble? My big toe probed the area around it and gained confidence for a brief contact. It is glass! I should pick that up, so no one steps on it. I begin excavating around it. It is a thin glass sphere, almost an inch in diameter, with a hole in the side, and a glass stem attached to it. Oh, I get it. Some loadie left his pipe on the beach. But wait, this thing is pretty clean, and from what I learned in college, isn't for smoking Humboldt county tobacco products.
K takes a look at it: "Dude! Is that a crack pipe?"
Uh, I think so.
There is no trash can nearby, and I don't want to leave this to be trampled on, so I put it in my pocket to dispose of properly.
While packing up, and discussing K's latest ice cream experiment, she mentions a strawberry rhubarb sauce that goes nicely with it. Well, nicely with just about anything, she then admits. I think to myself about those strawberries at home. And the rhubarb that I recently trimmed while wrapping a few of my tomato cages in plastic a few days earlier. Hmmmm. Deadly combination of yummy ingredients from my yard. I simply must try this. We talk about more ingredients, and it turns out I really only need some citrus. I will await an email for the recipe and proceed later.
Two days later, with nearly all the ingredients assembled, I was moving toward the front door to pick the berries when I remembered the crack pipe. I better recycle that thing. No, wait.
Turns out there is no corresponding category of which to ascertain its level of recyclability. Even here in Oakland, with what the majority of the World perceives as crack central. Now, I don't really want to condone the use of crack, so I opted for tossing it in the trash instead. Is this bad? Should I have more compassion toward crack users here? Naw, I mean, just from the basic level of someone littering and the pipe ending up at the beach, or another way, being washed down the storm drain somewhere and ending up there, I want to take it out of the loop. This item is not being treated properly. I think, let the sorters at the local transfer station decide.
Well, I did manage to pick the berries. With them back inside and on the counter, it looked like a basket at least. I was so proud that such a score could be had. It was time to get out the rest of the ingredients and get on down to saucing.
I look at ingredients such as these, and I get a glimpse of the reasons behind the raw food movement. I could easily just throw these things together and serve. Although I might treat the ginger different and not leave it in such large, easily-fished-out kind of chunks.
I cooked everything together at a low simmer for nearly half an hour. The smell coming off the pot was intense. Sweet and heady strawberry, sour rhubarb, floral vanilla and citrus, with earthy carmel sugar. It was good. Very good. At times like these I have no patience and must risk burning myself while trying a bit. I've been stocking the freezer, in anticipation of the arrival of our newest monkey, and recently put in a loaf of sliced honey whole wheat and oatmeal. Some sauce on toast was inevitable.Just a little piece.
The recipe ended up making about three cups. Enough to put on the ice cream K gave us and enough to bottle up into storage for a later date. Or maybe barter, I haven't decided. You see, this stuff, especially if you like rhubarb, is like crack. You will want more and more and the cravings will never stop. You just might run up enormous debt and a very unhealthy appearance pounding down pint after pint of vanilla ice cream with this on top. That kind of crack. I figure bartering this stuff would have a lot of repeat customers.I really did throw away the crack pipe. But its fitting that it coincided with my harvest of the small red fruits that go so well with red stalks, that when treated correctly, become strawberry crack sauce.
Thanks K. Now I'm an addict.
