A Walker in the Suburbs

Luckily, I heard it was National Chocolate Day before yesterday ended. But I didn’t hear about it before writing yesterday’s post. So this tribute is one day late — but just as fervent.

As it turns out, it was the radio that gave me the news. I was on my way home from the grocery store — with five dark chocolate bars and three bags of chocolate Halloween candy (in case there are leftovers).

Chocolate: where do I start? That it makes every day a little bit better. That it is a tonic, an anti-depressive, a panacea. That it is the perfect mingling of sweetness and fullness on the tongue.

Luckily, I had some of my current favorites on hand to celebrate last night, a knock-off brand of M&M’s. Which means I consumed chocolate with a thin candy shell, perfect for portion control. Because if there’s one thing I know about chocolate, it’s that you must control it … or it will control you.

Already afternoon and no post! It’s as good a time as any, then, to write about granola.

I do as little cooking as possible these days, preferring to make large quantities of something and consume it for days. Granola fits that bill. A sweet-and-savory delight — made from a recipe supplied by my sister-in-law — this concoction has become my breakfast yogurt complement of choice.

It includes generous quantities of oats, coconut, seeds, nuts and dried fruit bound together by equal measures of olive oil and maple syrup. It seems to hit all the right taste bud notes.

Even though I skipped it today — I have to ration myself — it’s good to know it will be waiting tomorrow. After all, it’s the breakfast of champions … or something like that.

Eating local conjures up images of farmers’ markets and $12 quarts of strawberries. But for the last week or two, we’ve been eating hyperlocal. 

Our chief suppliers are the basil growing in a pot on the deck, which just yielded enough leaves for a delicious pesto sauce — and mostly the next-door neighbors, with their well-tended garden of beans, squash, cucumbers and tomatoes. 

The beans have been lightly boiled, salted and buttered. (I usually steam vegetables, but these thrive with a more old-school treatment.) 

The cucumbers have been sliced thin and served in a peppercorn ranch marinade (this dish courtesy of yet another neighbor) or simmered in broth then whipped with yogurt and dill into a cold soup.

The squash have been mixed with onions and breadcrumbs and turned into a casserole. And the tomatoes … well, they’re yet to come.