Friday night, D (my mister) and I had a romantic candlelight dinner at home. I made a Zucchini Crusted Pizza accompanied by a glass of Oyster Bay Chardonnay from New Zealand. The results: A savory sweet pie light enough for a summer's night. So much so that we are making another one Sunday night with the leftover organic zucchini and yellow crookneck squash from our CSA farm share. The recipe is from the classic Moosewood Cookbook by Molly Katzen which I took a few liberties with. Crust: zucchini (the recipe calls for shredded but by divine accident with the food processor, the medallions create a heartier crust), eggs, flour, parmesan and mozzarella cheese, salt, fresh basil, dried marjoram and rosemary, and olive oil. Toppings: Olive oil, tomatoes, garlic (thinly sliced), sauteed mushrooms in white wine with a tiny bit of butter, olive oil, salt and pepper. The crust is so rich in flavor that the thin zucchini medallions taste more like golden potatoes and the toppings just melt in your mouth with the first bite.ergo baby carrier (a back pack pouch) that we wear on our chests. He listens to a beating heart against the white noise in the room and with a bit of dancing, he falls asleep. When he woke up, we took him out of the carrier. I propped him over my shoulder for a few minutes and he was captivated by the conversations at the table behind us. I then sat him my lap for a while. He watched me attempt to eat a seaweed roll and drink a Thai iced tea. As it turns out, he is quite the socialite. He joined our conversation once the plates were cleared from the table, the tea was watered down with ice, and the hot Vietnamese coffee turned cold. Stories told in small syllabic utterances.
It was after 10 p.m. when we returned home, all of us exhausted. D turned on the Olympics and suddenly we forgot about sleep as we watched Michael Phelp's break the world record and win eight gold medals with the help of the 4x100-meter relay team. Then Usain "Lightening" Bolt of Jamaica broke his own world record after he slowed down to celebrate his victory before reaching the finish line and winning the 100 meter race. His form, light and graceful, seemed unstoppable and completely effortless. By then, L had passed out in my arms and while I wanted to stay up for more, I forced myself to turn in.
Perhaps we'll pick more blueberries soon, take a walk in the hills, and find a few quiet moments beneath a shade tree to watch the clouds and read a book.