Craving Summer and BBT Pie. (Bacon, Basil, and Tomato Pie, That Is.)

September is a bittersweet month. While we're thickly back into school and after-school activity mode, I'm still desperately clinging to summer. I'm not ready for rushed dinners and early bedtimes. I want to lounge with the kids, reading books and playing ping-pong, not cracking my taskmaster whip to memorize multiplication tables or--worse--to solve for x. I watch leaves fall and litter the pool, but my heart's not ready to surrender and cover it. 

And I'm certainly not ready to give up tomatoes.

Sadly, though, the time is here. A few vines barely cling to life in the garden. Most of the tomato plants were pulled up long ago, victim to too much rain and too little sun. (It was a very odd South Carolina summer.) I spent a ridiculous amount of time pruning the few survivors, removing diseased leaves and knowing that I should just end their misery and allow them an honorable death for their service. (Can you tell I'm reading Game of Thrones?) 

Still, the few pitiful vines continue to produce a few pitiful tomatoes, and I'm taking full advantage of the fruit before it disappears completely. 

Hoping to embrace the last wisps of summer, I decided we needed a dinner that would makes us feel that we're still in the thick of summer, when produce is abundant and days are lazy.

In South Carolina, the quintessential summer dinner is Tomato Pie.

Maybe it's not only a South Carolina staple, but I'd never heard of tomato pie until we crossed the Mason-Dixon line. I know it never graced our dinner table in Munster, Indiana. (I wouldn't have eaten it, anyway. My family will attest that I was the world's pickiest eater.)

Over the years, my friends Dana and Janet shared their recipes for tomato pie with me. Let me assure you, when you mention on Facebook that you're about to make a tomato pie, your friends will begin salivating, asking when they should arrive for dinner. 

I know. I've been on the other side. 

Admittedly, I'm not a brave cook. I'm typically a recipe follower, too fearful to deviate from perfectly proportioned ingredients. But somehow, I became a chef renegade when I pulled out my friends' tomato pie recipes.

I added. I deleted. I substituted. I feared disaster.

But you know what?

It was yummy.

Before we get to the recipe, I feel you're owed full disclosure.

I used a pre-made pie crust. 

I know, I know...I've lost all credibility with you now. And I know my friend Janet will tell me that I shouldn't be intimidated by pie crusts. 

But it was a school night, and suddenly it was 6 p.m. and I hadn't even thought about starting dinner. So, rather than forgo that lovely taste of summer, I punted and used pre-made.

I'm sorry.

Janet uses this recipe for her pie crust. I'm going to use it when I make an apple pie this afternoon. Really. I am.

Regardless of whether you use a homemade or a pre-packaged pie crust, I urge you to snatch up the last summer tomatoes from your garden or the farmers' market and make this tomato pie tonight.

It will make you happy. I promise.

BBT Pie (Bacon, Basil, Tomato Pie)

Ingredients:

4 large tomatoes, or 8 medium, cut into 1/4-inch slices. (I used a variety of organic heirloom tomatoes to make the flavor more complex.)
8 slices bacon, cut into 1-inch pieces, cooked
2 shallots, diced
1 cup mayonnaise
1/2 tsp. salt, plus extra for tomato prep
1 tbsp. fresh chives, chopped finely
2 tbsp. fresh basil, chopped
1 cup grated Parmesan cheese, plus a bit extra to sprinkle on top
1/2 cup shredded mozzarella cheese

Directions:

1. Preheat oven to 350 degrees. Place pie crust in ungreased 9-inch pie pan, fold edges under, and pinch or crimp crust with fingers or fork. 

2. Bake crust for 10 minutes until lightly browned. Remove from oven.
 
3. While oven preheats and as crust pre-bakes, slice tomatoes and place on paper towels. Sprinkle with salt to draw water out of fruit, and let tomatoes rest approximately 20 minutes. (If you skip this step, your tomato pie can be quite soupy.) Pat dry.

4. In a large skillet, brown bacon until crispy. Remove bacon from pan.

5. Add shallots to bacon grease in pan and cook until slightly brown, approximately 3-4 minutes. Remove shallots and drain grease.

6. Sprinkle 1/2 cup grated Parmesan on bottom of pie crust.

7. Layer tomatoes on top of Parmesan until crust is filled to approximately 1/4-inch of top of pan.

8. Stir together mayonnaise, bacon, basil, shallots, chives, and remaining Parmesan cheese and mozzarella cheese until well-blended.

9. Spread mixture evenly over the top of the tomatoes. Grate a bit of Parmesan and sprinkle on top.

10. Bake in 350-degree oven for 40-45 minutes, removing when cheese begins to brown.

11. Cool and serve with a frosty glass of Pinot Grigio.

Of course, you can make the tomato pie without bacon, but honestly, once you taste it, you'll understand why the bacon belongs nestled next to the tomatoes. It's salty and savory and defines the flavor of summer. Take a bite, chase it with the chilly wine...divine.

So quick--grab those last tomatoes. I promise this tomato pie will make you feel like it's hammock and beach season--at least mentally.

What is the summer food that you miss most in the winter?

Enjoy!

XOXO ~

Julie

Prepping and Planting the Fall Garden.

A few days ago, some of my friends and I were chatting about gardens. (Shocking, I know.) Specifically, I mentioned that I need to clean up the summer garden and prepare it for fall crops.

It's a painful process for me.

I hate tearing out any plant that's still producing, even if emotionally I'm so, so ready to get rid of the uglies and plant perky, happy seedlings. As vile as the vines look, I'm not ready to give up fresh tomatoes. I've pulled a lot of vines, but there are still a few that I'm pampering, hoping to enjoy bruschetta through the fall.

 

So, instead of ripping out all of the summer plants in August, I prepare for the fall garden by starting seedlings in the greenhouse. Yes, it's probably less time consuming to direct sow lettuce, but by planting seeds in biodegradable pots, I'm extending the summer garden as long as possible while getting a head start on growing produce.

If you're starting seedlings for your garden, you might want to refer to this chart that I put together last fall. It's my cheat sheet that shows when you should plant seeds for your fall garden, depending on your first expected frost date (which you can find here.) It also gives you hints about depth for planting, how long until germination, and when you can expect to harvest your crops. Some seeds, like radishes and carrots, really do need to be direct sowed, though. Still, that's OK—radishes grow quickly and are typically ready to harvest in 28 days. Carrots can remain in the garden throughout most of the winter (mulched with straw in cold climates), harvesting as you need them. In fact, the cooler soil can make the carrots taste sweeter.

Before any plants enter the fall garden, all of the summer debris needs to be cleared—particularly any diseased plant material. A fresh layer of compost will be added to the beds and mixed in well, and I'll do a soil test to check pH and determine any nutrients that are missing for the fall crops.

But the best part of planning the fall garden? Why, selecting what you're going to grow, of course! My friends asked what I planned to grow this fall, but at the time I hadn't selected the varieties. Now, though, the seeds have arrived and are anxiously awaiting their new home! Everything I've ordered is heirloom and organic, and some of the varieties are just ridiculously beautiful. Here's what's going in the fall garden:

Heirloom lettuce

Forellenschluss (My favorite—I love its beautiful speckling, plus it's crispy and delicious.)

Grandpa Admire's (Another favorite that's on Slow Food USA's Ark of Taste.)

Merveille des Quatre Saisons (I just love saying the name in my high school French accent.)

Big Boston

Flame

May Queen

Petite Rouge

Red Romaine

Rouge d'Hiver

Rubin

Chadwick's Rodan

Spinach

Merlo Nero

Bloomsdale Long Standing

Red Malabar (which isn't spinach, really...but it's a beautiful vining green with red stems, so I'm excited to add it to the garden.)

Chinese Greens

Ching Chang Bok Choy

Chinese Pak Choy

Broccoli

Romanesco Italia

Cauliflower

Violetta Italia

Snowball Self-Blanching

Cabbage

Cour di Bue

Tete Noire

Swiss Chard

Five Color Silverbeet

Kale

Lacinato

Red Russian

Chinese White Flowered

Peas
Blue Podded Blauwschokkers

Golden Sweet Snow

Sugar Ann Snap

Radishes

Early Scarlet Globe

French Breakfast

Purple Plum

Pink Beauty

Beets (I'm embarrassed to say—I've never grown beets. Can't wait to try these!)

Chioggia

Gourmet Blend

Leeks

Bleu de Solaise

Scotland

Carrots

Parisienne

St. Valery

Amarillo

Cosmic Purple

I'll also grow some Brussels sprouts for Peter, but I'll most likely buy transplants for those. For whatever reason, I have a tough time getting them started from seed, and I have a source locally where I can get organic Brussels sprouts plants.

Oddly absent from our southern garden—collards. I know, I know—how can I be a southern gardener without collards? For whatever reason, we just don't eat collards. Maybe it's my Yankee upbringing coming out. Can anyone give me a good endorsement for collards and why I should try them?

I haven't ordered my garlic and shallots yet—and I need to do that soon. Many varieties of garlic sell out early, so that's definitely on my to-do list. Usually, I dedicate one raised bed to garlic and plant about five varieties. We use a lot of garlic!

Besides planting the beds in the large kitchen garden, I'm starting seedlings for the potager, as well as for some containers. I'm also planning to incorporate some fall edibles into the front gardens. Personally, I've never liked ornamental cabbages, but I find edible combinations, like kale and violas, or the rainbow colors of Swiss chard alone, really beautiful. We'll see how it turns out! I'll keep you posted.

I also need to check my mini hoops from last year to make certain the plastic isn't torn. In our zone 7b garden, these little low tunnels (which cost a whopping $10 for materials) provide enough protection from the cold to keep most of our crops producing throughout the winter. I also cover the potager with plastic when we have a freeze warning, but I already know I need to replace that plastic cover. The fencing gouged big holes in the plastic due to the weight of rain on the cover. (Note to self: remove the plastic before a rain!)

With a little preplanning and preparation, we'll be enjoying lovely harvests from the garden all winter. 

Have you planned your fall garden? What are you most looking forward to growing in the cool weather?

Hope you enjoy a wonderful holiday weekend!

XOXO ~

Julie

The Growing Days Nature Camp.

My friend sent me a Facebook message. She said she had the strangest dream.

She dreamt that I opened a nature camp.

Honestly, I don't know why she would dream such a thing.

We've enjoyed our normal, lazy summer.

A little sailing, a little exploring...

 

The kids made some new friends.

 

 

We shared some first time adventures, too.

 

A wild boar sauntered across our path. (He turned into that tiny speck on the left by the time I fumbled my phone out for the photo--but trust me. He was gigantic.)

Peter captained our thrill-seeking adventure, which I fondly refer to as "the boat ride of terror." It began peacefully enough. A little cruising, a little snorkeling...and then a shark sighting where we planned to drop anchor for more snorkeling.

(By the way, sharks don't really announce themselves with a "fin-up" warning, like in Jaws. This bad boy swam along the ocean floor--in about four feet of water. We just happened to spot him as I started to drop anchor.)

Ummm...no thank you.

Then, two storm cells formed, with lightning in the distance and choppy waves, chasing us across the bay...and I was a very unhappy boat baby. (The kids and Peter didn't seem bothered by the waves and slamming of the boat--but that's because they're brave. I'm a wuss.)

We lived.

We played with bioluminescent plankton.  We laid on the beach and watched the Perseid meteor shower. We counted 29 meteors.

We stalked turtle nests, trying to gauge hatch dates.

 
And we missed the hatch! I knew I should have slept in a beach chair by the nest. So disappointing.

When I grow up, I'm going to be a turtle lady and live on the beach. 

Deer spotting. Completely blasé about the tourist paparazzi.

The kids met many new friends, some a bit deadly.  

Pufferfish might be considered a delicacy in Japan, but they also contain enough poison to kill 30 adults. No matter how expertly trained the chef may be, I don't think it's worth potential death. Just my opinion. 

Some of the new friends were a bit crabby.

A few new friends looked a bit tattered and tired.

But our summer bliss is over. We're back to reality. School's begun, the gardens are begging for attention, and it's time to start planning the fall garden.

Still, a summer nature camp...hmmm...

Maybe my friend is onto something. It sounds like a perfect career move. 

If only we lived at the beach.

What did you do on your summer vacation?

XOXO ~

Julie