Six Artichokes Weren’t Enough
There are discoveries you simply have to tell somebody about. Finding a great big pile of beautiful artichokes - in October - for 69 cents apiece was one of them. Another shopper came down the aisle just as I was choosing mine, and she was every bit as delighted as I was.
Fall’s Everyday Abundance
I didn’t know there was a fall harvest of artichokes. But last week, while my sister Suzi was visiting from Alabama, we went looking for them. We drove all the way down to Carmel at the beach, stopping at roadside stands along the way. Surely, somewhere along that drive through farming country, we would find beautiful fresh artichokes. No luck.
Sixty-nine cents. Are you sure?
Then Sunday, I stopped at my little vegetable market on the way home. There was a great big pile of artichokes, but no sign telling me the price. I went to ask the man at the desk. “Sixty-nine cents apiece,” he said. “Are you sure?” I asked. Just the week before, I had seen artichokes at Trader Joe’s for $3.79 each!
I went back for my basket and started picking them out. A woman came down the aisle, and since there was no sign, I thought she ought to know. “These artichokes are sixty-nine cents apiece!” For the next ten minutes, we stood together choosing the very best ones. She was delighted, and I was delighted. We both went back to the same man to check out, and indeed, they were sixty-nine cents each.
I brought home six, and we immediately tried cooking them. Our air fryer experiment was a complete bust. They were terrible. But the old tried-and-true pressure cooker, with water and a little salt, produced fabulous artichokes. So the next day, I went back and bought ten more. We will be eating artichokes every day, and I am very happy about that.
Persimmons, with a side of Taffy
Meanwhile, my neighbor Lillian invited me over to pick extra tomatoes from the garden she and Dick grow every year. She also had apples from her trees, which I take to the horses and mules. They’re always happy to see those coming. The tomatoes I keep for gazpacho. Then Lillian showed me six enormous persimmons and gave me three.
Here in Northern California, persimmons arrive in glorious abundance. I’ll drive through a neighborhood and see a tree bursting with orange fruit beside a “Free Persimmons” sign. Of course, I jump out. Sometimes there’s a big bag at Unity Palo Alto. They’re a little like zucchini: suddenly everything is ripe, and everyone is looking for someone to take a few.
In the photograph, my big old ginger cat Taffy has curled up beside the persimmons. There’s a saying that all ginger cats share just one brain cell, passing it around from cat to cat. On any given day, Taffy may or may not have received it. But he always has plenty to say. He talks to me all day about food, pets, and fresh water. Especially fresh water. He also finds the most interesting places to settle down, including the bathroom sink.
I’m letting these persimmons ripen completely before making bread from a treasured recipe given to me by my 96-year-old Finnish friend. With raisins and pecans and Grand Marnier, it is out of this world. When more persimmons arrive than I can use, I ripen them and put them in the freezer until I’m ready to bake. Then the loaves go to neighbors, friends at Unity, and people I visit. This time of year, wherever I’m going, I’m likely to bring persimmon bread.
Our maple’s glorious finale
Right outside our door, our maple puts on its own magnificent fall show. It’s the very last tree here to turn and lose its leaves. I love those beautiful orange and red colors. By the time its leaves finally come down, fall has thoroughly settled in.
These are the pleasures filling my days right now: artichokes for dinner, persimmons ripening for bread, a generous neighbor, a talkative old cat, and glorious color outside our door. I’m enjoying the abundance of fall, with plenty to eat, plenty to share, and plenty to be grateful for. Thank you.
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