Seasons

I love spring. The sun, its vitamin D, the flowers... when spring starts to flirt with summer, though, my affection wanes. This past week, spring has been flirting hard and it's been frighteningly hot, especially in my little upstairs apartment. On my menu this week, I did a dumb thing: I listed Vegetable Chowder. I did this because last time I made it, it was fabulous. Also, it uses vegetables, which I like more than meat. And it's girly. Also, I was able to get some leeks at The Farmer's Daughter, which made me feel earthy and local, and I had a potato left over from some other meal that was just begging to be chopped up and put in a chowder. Tonight was Chowder night. The heat index today was 106.

Nevertheless, I am a stickler for following The Menu, so I turned the fan on high, chopped those leeks and the potato (also carrots, celery, & onion), and spent 45 minutes or so in my toasty kitchen whipping up a Vegetable Chowder. I threw some just-add-water biscuits in the oven. Then, I sat at my table and ate it. Cooking hot food is nothing compared to eating hot food. I sweated more just consuming that steaming soup than I did standing over the open flame on my gas stove stirring flour and broth into the onions.

All of this is to say that I might benefit from treating seasons with the respect they deserve. Spring is a time for grilled chicken. Or corn on the cob. Or pasta salad (Ooo, that sounds fabulous). Or spinach and strawberry salad. As summer swoops in to steal spring's thunder, I intend to give it what it deserves. And to give my stove a break.