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I just received an email from my CSA about our fourth pick-up later this week, so I must be a tad behind.  Load number 3 is pretty much gone from the kitchen by now other than a stray bit of garlic or onion, but I still have pictures to share!  No crazy bike adventures to share because this was in the midst of the OMG LAST WEEK AT WORK business.

And this is my photography assistant, with his strong opinion on the placement of the okra (it should apparently be carried around the house, not left on the kitchen table). Also, I promise we have other animals. Other cats, even. He’s just the most assertive about having his picture taken.

So without further ado, our bounty of the week accompanied by my attempts at food photography:

Okra – the July issue of Southern Living* showed up just in time with an article about the summer trifecta: okra, corn, and tomatoes. I made the okra maque choux for my Cajun husband, and he’s already asking for me to make it again. Delicious! This accidentally turned into a sausage-heavy meal (I’m struggling for a better phrase than “sausage fest” thanks to the “Home Wreckers” episode of How I Met Your Mother) because I absentmindedly thawed out the boudin instead of the smoked sausage his father made that would actually work for the recipe. (Are you noticing an absentminded trend here?). Boudin falls into the category of I DON’T WANT TO KNOW WHAT’S IN THIS. My father-in-law was a butcher and the Cajuns in general are a bit more open-minded than me about what parts of an animal are edible, so I politely eat and ask that they not tell me if it contains organ meats or other random bits. Eww. I”m from the totally wimpy “meat should be boneless and skinless” camp.  Traditional maque choux like my hubs makes is pretty much just corn and tomatoes (and no meat), so you could easily make this one veg-friendly if you prefer.

MORE patty pan squash – Perhaps I waited too long to cook these. Either way, we were unimpressed. It wasn’t terrible, but we won’t be making it again.

A variety of garlic – I should have written down all the types of garlic! By the time I got home I already wasn’t sure which was what. Whatever they are, they’re tasty. We received a garlic press as a very belated wedding present (ok, perhaps we bought one as a replacement for a belatedly returned duplicate gift), and it makes me happy.

Blueberries – Nothing fancy for these lovelies. They’ve been thrown onto cereal, brownies, and buttermilk french toast. And my apologies to Queen Martha, but when you make her yummy, tangy french toast recipe, please completely ignore the nutmeg and substitute cinnamon.

Humongous zucchini of unknown variety and baby yellow zucchini – Casualties of war. We were out of town for a few days right after the pick-up (Hello, Austin!) and came back to sad, shriveled squash. Oops.

*Yes, I receive the Southern Living. Of course I only read it after I’ve put on my pearls, ruffled apron, and heels and fixed my hair like a good exiled Alabama girl.


No, I’m not Lord of the Rings crazed, but I did go for second breakfast today. Main difference between me and the hobbits? Other being a couple feet taller and having waaaay less in the sideburn department than them, I also squeezed in a 20 mile bike ride between breakfast the first and breakfast the second. I commuted in with my husband as far as the gym where he cleans up for work, then looped back around town and home. At which point, my belly insisted that a Kashi bar was no longer sufficient fuel to start the day.

Enter: discount rye bread. I did not grow up in rye country. I think the first time I had rye was just a couple of years ago, at which point I was introduced to the Reuben. Ahhh, the Reuben. Love it. All those weird, funky flavors come together perfectly. So when I saw this happy loaf on sale at the grocery store, I grabbed it. Did I have a plan for it? Ha! That would have made too much sense. I brought it home, took a big bite, and realized it was not meant to be eaten solo.

But my bike-addled brain saw it and said FRENCH TOAST. I consulted Chef Google, who informed me that no, I was not the first crazy person to have this idea. I checked out a couple of recipes, then whipped up some yummy breakfast.

Let me rephrase: I whipped up some yummy, UGLY breakfast. This will not win a beauty pageant, yall. But I’m not really a fan of pageants in the first place, so I will love its ugly flaws. If you want to love it too, just slice up some rye, then whip two eggs per three slices of bread along with a splash of milk and… drumroll… cinnamon. The cinnamon pulls the flavors together incredibly well. Dunk your bread, and get to cooking. My dad trained me to cook any egg products low and slow, and I put the lid on to make sure all the egg soaked into the middle of this thick bread was cooked. And I just may have added some syrup on top. Can you blame me? Because rye is good for your cholesterol and heart health among other things, we can call this a low guilt indulgence as well.

Now to figure out what to do with the rest of the loaf… Anyone who’s not from the rye-free deep south have any ideas?

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