We've been a little lax with the blog the past few weeks--I suppose it's a good thing that we have been so busy, but we need to slow down now and then to take stock and, more importantly, to relax and enjoy the summer. The Hearth & Vine has been rocking along and we are so pleased when our favorite customers drop in--some notable foodies, some who just appreciate good food, and others who are pleasantly surprised when they try something new or different like Paul's newest pizza. He tops the homemade crust with a little olive oil, caramelized onions, Gorgonzola, fingerling potatoes and fresh rosemary. It is, for me, a perfect blend of sweet and savory.
We are anxiously waiting for our tomatoes to ripen, but have been pleased with the last batch of gorgeously colorful (and tasty) tomatoes from another local farm. I am not sure if the bunny (or the devil) is still sitting on the counter, but it was an appropriate mascot at the restaurant for a few days.
We have 15 tomato plants in containers on the deck and eight beds in the yard and they are loaded with flowers and fruit. The "Gold Nugget" tomatoes, the first to ripen for us this year, are good, but not nearly as sweet and flavorful and the "Sun Sugars" we grew last year. I miss them. Our daughter ate them as fast as they turned orange. The next will be the cherries and then the green zebras--can't wait. On the deck: one of our dogs, Leon, AKA Dude (thanks to Ella who started calling him Dude when she was three).
In other news, Paul & I rode the bike up to Northport for the Fourth of July and met our family and friends up there for the fireworks. They were wonderful--as always--and it was great to bump into so many people. Not sure why there aren't more food vendors up there--I think people would really appreciate that. We also had a chance to catch a concert--Lucinda Williams and Amos Lee at Interlochen (so great) and Ella and I made a trip down to a water-park in Muskegon with girlfriends. It's been a blur.
Pet your dog, eat a few fresh tomatoes, sit on the beach and watch the waves roll in, walk through the woods and smell the rich earth, and listen to the wood thrush and cicadas alternate in song.
Before we know it, summer will be gone.