PATIO, PAPAYA, PONDEROSITY

PAPAYA PRESERVES:

While we were on our IronMan/Kentucky trip, our friends gave us a little box of fresh figs. Chris is so very fond of fig preserves and since you can hardly find big old lush preserving figs here, I made some---a teensy pimiento jar was what the several figs afforded, plus a tiny “cook’s cup.” The tiny dab left over after you’ve filled all the jars of a canning, plus all the sweet, sticky spillage onto the plate beneath the jars---those are savored with bread and butter, or as a nice sweet point to a quick meal on a day you can't endure putting ANOTHER thing on that hot stove.

Chris came home for lunch that day, and came into the house with several perfect big tomatoes for BLTs. I put together a little side-plate while the bacon was cooking, shredded a bit of lettuce, peeled three tomatoes, and we made our sandwiches to take to the patio.

The little “side plate” is Sweetpea’s divided tray, garnished with cute frogs, and neat for whatever she’s eating. I was cutting up a bag of cheese sticks for when she and I have our fruit and cheese after her nap, so some of those, plus a coupla boiled eggs, some babybels, the fig bonus cup, and some fresh papaya went onto the tray. We never eat all that’s put out, but I like to have a pretty plate or tray, with nice accompaniments---leftovers are a GOOD THING.

His Sandwiches: Lettuce, tomato, salt, and a lavish hand with the Blue Plate---very crisp bacon on the side:

Mine: 12 grain bread, lettuce, tomato, a little bit of crumbled bacon dotted about, and a little slick of Blue Plate:

And, always, Winter or Summer, big glasses of Luzianne---we have a big set of these glasses, in all different jewelly colors, but I took out just the two pink ones, and have used them so long, and run them through the dishwasher so often, they’re losing their shine:

I’d had a craving for papaya, and chose one of the three-pounders at the grocery store---not very well, I’m afraid. It was still too firm to be really tasty, and so I decided to see if it would make a decent preserve, like watermelon rind. And it was wonderful, sugared for several hours to bring out the juices, then simmered til thick and rosy with lemon zest and vanilla:

Our neighbor loved the little jar I took her---it was different from any fruit I’ve ever made into preserves---delicious on toast or biscuits in the morning, and a lovely sweet counterpoint with tangy Paminna Cheese and crackers. This morning, it was almost all gone, as I set it on the table with our Raisin Bran and toast. Chris cut bananas onto our cereal, nibbled a cheese stick or two, ate a while, then munched his toast. I passed the preserves---“Want some of this on your toast? It’s almost gone.”

He chewed, contemplating. And then, in one of the most circuitous “No Thank You’s" I’ve ever heard, said, “At this point in my consumption of the meal, it would kinda be a waste to introduce it.”

Word for word, because I came straight over here and wrote it down before going back to my breakfast, laughing like a loon.