Revolt

This morning my previously supportive husband suggested that we find someone to buy out half our CSA share for a quarter of what we paid so nothing would "go to waste". I tried to explain that nothing was really being wasted, that only a couple of things ended in the compost heap because I had been working and lacked the time to cook enough to use it all, and that now that school is out, I'll be much better at planning meals. But the reality is, how do we split a share fairly? Most veggies come in a single family size quantity. To split each item in half (1/2 a turnip for you; 1/2 a turnip for me) would leave two families with not enough to eat, but to divvy the vegetables by item (You get the rutabagas; I'll take the sugar snap peas)would certainly leave someone dissatisfied. My response was, " Absolutely not."

The revolt continued this evening when Rich came home from work and found out about the Swiss chard au gratin baking in the oven. "Are greens the only thing this guy grows? Why aren't there any tomatoes or cucumbers?" I tried to explain Connecticut's climate and the growing needs of those hot weather fruits, but again he demanded, "Why are there only greens to eat? I didn't sign up for greens!"

After a vodka tonic, he calmed down enough to try the au gratin.

Preparing the gratin wasn't difficult: I took a large bunch of rainbow Swiss chard (beautiful stuff!), chopped the stems separately from the leaves and sauteed it, stems first, with butter and a chopped onion. After the stems and onions were done, I added the chopped leaves to the skillet until they wilted. Meanwhile, in another pan, I melted butter and added a minced garlic clove, a cup of bread crumbs and some chopped fresh parsley. Setting that aside, I put the finished chard into a casserole dish. In the chard skillet, I started a typical white sauce: one tablespoon of butter, one tablespoon of flour, and 1 cup of milk whisked together over medium heat. I dumped that into the casserole with the chard, mixed in a cup of grated cheddar cheese, and topped it all with breadcrumbs. It baked in the oven at 400 degrees for 20 minutes, and it rested for about 10 minutes before serving.

All my guys, including my husband, looked askance at the stuff when it was served. Not a very pretty dish, but almost everyone liked it. Rich went up for seconds. Conrad discovered that it made his plain white rice more palatable. Daniel complained for a brief moment about the onions, but polished it all off. Only Zachary, age 6, wouldn't eat it. He kept calling it the "egg rotten" and preferred to have no dessert than to force it down.

There were no leftovers, and the revolt seems to have died down for now. We'll see how kohlrabi goes over tomorrow.