Happy Solstice and Roasted Tomato & Goat Cheese Terrine

Lots of drama in the sky these days...weather warm, cloudy, bright, electric, but never cold anymore. And in these northern climes, the sun is up more than it's down. The sky begins to blush pink about 5AM and it's not fully dark until well after 11PM. The birds will wake you up nice and early if you don't bury your head in your pillow.

After the safflowers are spent, on come the poppies.

An eye-popping contrast to the greengreengreen of the hills.

The white iris have bloomed out and the lupines and Canterbury bells have come on in the garden. We've cleared our weedy field and begun to plot out the deck and playhouse. We may get underway before the end of the month.

Meanwhile we enjoyed a short visit from the family. We had a picnic on the terrace, lowering our food supplies by basket from the third floor kitchen.

Quinn took delivery. Zinnie just looked cute.

Here's a recipe I've used a couple of times lately for a very nice starter, not too complicated but requiring a little thinking ahead.

Slow Roasted Tomatoes, Basil and Goat Cheese Terrine

Ingredients:

10 beefsteak or other plump tomatoes

Olive oil

4 large bunches of basil (to make 3 cups of basil leaves)

8 oz soft fresh goat cheese (I buy it in a tub)

Preheat your oven to low (300ºF, or 150 Celsius) Get a large pot of water boiling on the stove and a large bowl of ice water ready on the counter. Core 10 large fresh tomatoes and with a paring knife make an 'X' at the cut end of each tomato. Plunge them into the boiling water for 20 seconds and then into the ice water for a further 20. Peel and discard skins. Arrange the tomatoes on a baking tray lined with parchment paper. Season liberally with coarse salt and pepper and cover with olive oil. Place in oven for 2-3 hours, until they are withered but not too brown.

Meanwhile make the basil spread. Take 3 cups of loosely packed basil leaves and plunge them into boiling water and then ice water as with the tomatoes to blanch for just 20 seconds. Squeeze out the excess water with your hands and then roll the basil in a dish towel to remove excess moisture. Put the basil pulp into a small blender with 3 T olive oil and whir to combine. Pose a piece of cheese cloth over a glass or cup and place the basil bulb inside for at least 20 minutes to drain. Reserve the liquid for garnishing the terrine later.

Before you put the terrine together, soften 8 oz of fresh goat cheese in a very low oven. It should be easily spreadable.

Now you are set to layer your terrine. Get yourself a very small loaf pan or other tub and generously line it with plastic wrap so that the plastic hangs well over the edges. If the tub is too large your terrine will not be very tall. Start by placing a layer of tomatoes in the bottom of the pan, cut side up. Spread the goat cheese to generously cover and then add some basil on top of the cheese (I find there is never enough basil to be more than rather skimpy at each layer.) Continue until you use up all your ingredients, ending with the tomato slices on top, cut side down. Fold your plastic wrap over and refrigerate for at least 6 hours before attempting to cut.

Cutting the terrine is best accomplished with either an electric knife or a super sharp kitchen knife. If you have neither, I suggest using either dental floss or thin wire.

If you like, you can make a dressing which adds to the flavor of this dish.

Niçoise Vinaigrette

Ingredients:
2 T black olive purée
2 anchovy fillets, rinsed and minced
1 T chopped capers
1/2 t minced garlic
1/2 t chopped shallots
3 T sherry vinegar
6 T olive oil

Combine all the ingredients except the oil in a small bowl. Whisk in the olive oil.


I use one of my favorite kitchen tools to mince my ingredients. This great old wooden bowl and chopping knife belonged to my mother.

Voila, a beautiful and delicious starter.

And for your dessert today, a sweet video of one of Quinn's inventions:

Between raindrops

Climate change is effecting the narrative on our little planet. Monster storms, odd-ball inversions; wherever you are, weather seems to be big news. This wasn't the case when I was young. Those were the days when you could predict the weather based on the date, and never be very far wrong. Not so now. Spring here has been very unsettled and the birds, plants and I are all a bit confused.

While in Moscow people are apparently turning on their air conditioners, over here the heat has gone back on and we're searching around for left over sticks of wood to build another fire. Significant downpours have kept me inside. Looking out from my studio window, it seems as if everything wants to bloom.

If I see a shaft of sunlight, I throw down whatever I'm working on and rush outside. Ah, for the glory of the sun on your cheek!

Our terrace garden is in form this year, despite the off and on weather. My favorite clematis has been blooming extravagantly for a couple of weeks and shows no sign of slowing down. The jasmine that shares the trellis will bloom later.

Even the yellow rose that climbs up the front of the house is covered in buds and is beginning to present itself.

I am really enjoying the terrace this year as everything has nicely filled in. I wanted to show you the full view, how it looks from our front gate, so I used Photoshop to put several separate photos into one panorama. It did a half-decent job,. Except for the distortion in the middle, this gives a fairly accurate representation. Be sure to click on the photo for a larger view.

Irises, temporary as they are, are among my favorite flowers. Outside my workshop this year is a lovely profusion of classic dark purple ones.

Lilacs are in their glory all over the village.

Our garden is in early spring mode; so much in bloom and yet so much left to emerge. The dahlias have not even poked the smallest leaf out as yet and the annuals - sweet peas, sunflowers and nasturtiums are barely starting. We haven't dared to put out our tomatoes yet. It's still just too inclement.

The wall around the far side of the garden is the ancient defensive rampart of the village and is quite thick, perhaps 8 feet. On top grow trees, shrubs, vines and these iris. All volunteers.

 

Our project this summer is to build a deck. For the moment it is a huge patch of weeds just beyond the little cherry tree.

My all-time favorite garden was one we visited in England many years ago, called Hadspen. It no longer exists but has remained the model garden in my mind. Nori and Sandra Pope created a garden based on color and it was truly breathtaking.

I tried to follow the basic principles when we put our own garden together. I certainly have neither the knowledge nor creativity, or the time that is required to really accomplish a garden like Hadspen, but with each succeeding year, the garden does look better and better.

The stand of white iris enlivens the garden at this time of year. I hate to watch them bloom out, but as they do the rest of the later bloomers, like the roses and penstemon begin to come alive.

This little beauty blooms early too and keeps the irises company.

I've lost track of some of those vigorous perennials. I've forgotten who they are, but each year they come back in force.

None of my beds are yet perfect. This one has gotten a little mixed up, but I love the light blue linen plants which this year are well-established.

This may not look like columbine; it doesn't to me, but it is. Maybe a mutant one, as it seems to have changed its form since last year.

Another pleasure of the spring garden are the daises in the grass. They remind me of being about eight years old. I always feel a compulsion to make chains.

Yesterday, while Rick did the work, I sat in my chair, enjoyed the sun in my eyes and dreamed of the summer garden.

***

One positive result of so much rain is an electric green world to live in. This is the forest of Montmirail as we passed through it last week on our way to visit the family in Paris.

Rick built a nice desk/sewing table for Emily. It turned out beautifully well.

Emily has become a most excellent seamstress. Here Quinn proudly models the hoodie (lined in yummy white fleece) she made for him.

Zinnie is fully upright these days.

While Rick was building, Quinn and I made our own structure.

 

Quinn and his mother did some baking one afternoon. Here's his monster bread. Seems a shame to eat him, he's so cute.