It Feels Like Cheating

This spring, my husband very enthusiastically covered every available inch of our property in raised garden beds.  Everyone said he was crazy.  And "geez, there's just two of you, how are you going to eat all that?"  Now, they're all jealous.  Really jealous.

It's now October, and we are so sick of eating zucchini, green beans, tomatoes and basil that we want to cry.  There are still perhaps twenty japanese eggplants on the vine and a full bed of potatoes that we're working our way through.  I haven't bought produce in months, and honestly, it feels like cheating.  It's a lot of work in bursts, but much less than we thought.

Tonight I just couldn't resist taking a photo of our dinner.  With the fall sunlight coming it, it really was picturesque.  We are having peruvian and yellow potatoes roasted with thyme and shallots, beet salad with walnut oil and sherry vinegar, and braised organic chicken thighs with tarragon, lemon, and honey.  Aside from the chicken and the dry goods, all of it came from the garden.

Before roasting...

Before eating...