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These days it has been stormy, hot, and humid in our part of Wisconsin.  The garden has been loving it though if we get any more rain, I think maybe the plants may just get too fat and explode before we get to them.  One dish I have enjoyed lately is this nice lentil salad.  It is a satisfying meal with a couple of pan toasted crusty bread drizzled with olive oil.  It is best eaten under an umbrella in the hot sun with a glass of icy cold cucumber water.

potoflentils

RECIPE

Ingredients

  • 1 slice bacon (Marr’s Valley View)
  • 1 t. olive oil
  • 1. t. fresh ginger (minced)
  • salt
  • 1 large carrot
  • 1 rib celery
  • 1/4 c. red onions
  • 3 curls of garlic shoots (from the garden)
  • 3/4 c. Puy lentils
  • 1 T. parsley (from the garden)

Start with a piece or two of bacon, sliced into small pieces.  Toss it in a Dutch oven.  Put it on low heat until the fat starts to sizzle out and the meat starts to turn a shiny maroon color.  Add some olive oil and turn up the heat to medium high.  In goes the ginger, onions, carrots, celery, and garlic shoots as well as a bit of sea salt.  Cook this confetti until you can smell all of the flavors and they have all turned a brighter color than when you started.  The lentils go in next then the water.  Scrape of the brown bits at the bottom.  Bring to a boil then turn down to a low simmer.   Cook until the lentils are tender (about 15-20 minutes).  Finish with some fresh parsley.

lentilsandtoast

Summer Sun

Robert Louis Stevenson 1850-1894)

Great is the sun, and wide he goes
Through empty heaven with repose;
And in the blue and glowing days
More thick than rain he showers his rays.

Though closer still the blinds we pull
To keep the shady parlour cool,
Yet he will find a chink or two
To slip his golden fingers through.

The dusty attic spider-clad
He, through the keyhole, maketh glad;
And through the broken edge of tiles
Into the laddered hay-loft smiles.

Meantime his golden face around
He bares to all the garden ground,
And sheds a warm and glittering look
Among the ivy’s inmost nook.

Above the hills, along the blue,
Round the bright air with footing true,
To please the child, to paint the rose,
The gardener of the World, he goes.

cucumberwater

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