Amanda Miller
Columnist
Lettuce Eat Local

“Should we just give up, Brian?” I asked with a deep sigh. Looking at the garden upon returning home from our trip did not inspire feelings of confidence, motivation, pride…anything positive. Unless you count positively depressing. 

The garden wasn’t quite that bad; or at least, its effect on my emotions wasn’t. As far as the garden itself is concerned, though, it’s hard to put into words how bad it was. Before we left I had done a bit of what I like to call “rescuing” my crops, which entails pulling weeds directly around the plants so I can see them again or at least know they’re surviving somewhere in there. I’m quick to acknowledge it’s not an effective long-term strategy, although I clearly never learn since it’s one I employ every growing season. It’s really more of a coping mechanism than a strategy, and a poor one at that — since in the meantime the weeds everywhere else only grow higher, taller, stronger, continuing to encroach on the life of my vegetables. 

We could call it shade protection, moisture retention, cover crop. But really it boils down to failure. 

Or at least it probably should. Yet as momentarily tempting as it was to consider mowing down the whole thing, saving the hours of extremely necessary improvement and upkeep as well as removing the constant eyesore and reminder of my struggle, actually admitting to garden defeat is not something I’ve done yet. 

And I’ve given myself reasons, oh I’ve given myself reasons. The weeds this year at my face-the-truth crisis were knee-high (and not knee-high to a grasshopper, although the plague of those isn’t helping anything either), lush and jungle-y. But to say some of them have been taller than me in previous seasons is neither stretching the truth nor the weed height.

I do weed sometimes! Just clearly never enough. I will say it is at least a more gratifying activity when the weeds are so huge and predominant that you can pull armloads worth in mere minutes, visibly transforming a section in the process. 

Sometimes my crops survive in spite of adversity, and sometimes they don’t. But I invariably find myself writing an annual article similar to this one, lamenting the deplorable nature of my garden. I was closer than I ever have been at throwing in the towel/trowel this time…then Benson came over and rejoiced at sighting a baby tomato, and I remembered one of the reasons we do this. 

And the good news is, this year I have several friends who have asked me to tend their gardens while they are gone. They know how much I love gardening, but obviously weren’t paying attention to mine when they asked, or perhaps they were just desperate enough that they weren’t checking resumes. 

To be fair, they didn’t ask me to weed. Just to water and check for produce — poor Kiah got a little watered herself at the neighbor’s when I didn’t realize the sprinkler would reach where she was sitting when I turned it on. Oops. 

But she got some summer squash out of the deal, which Benson was overjoyed to find and pick. 

Even if ours hadn’t perished in the weed jungle, summer squash is not one of those things we ever think there is a real surplus of, contrary to popular opinion. It’s so versatile, you might find it anywhere on our table these days — which is nice, because it’d be hard to find it in our garden. 

Slow-Roasted Summer Squash

Some people don’t like summer squash because it gets mushy easily, but that’s actually the point of this recipe, and I love it. The flavors are super simple, which lets the squash goodness shine through. I have two tarragon plants that are going gangbusters (they’re in pots, so safe from the garden), and don’t always know how to use it, and this was lovely. This recipe would work just as well with another fresh herb though, like basil or oregano, and zucchini would also be a good sub for the yellow squash. This dish is a good side on its own, or try it on toast, with scrambled eggs, or wrapped in a tortilla.

Prep tips: I used squash that some would say was too big to be any good, but instead of shredding it into oblivion or throwing it to the chickens, I cooked it down delightfully here. 

a drizzle of olive oil

a knob of salted butter

a couple yellow summer squash, sliced in thin rounds

several sprigs of fresh tarragon, leaves chopped

salt and cracked pepper

optional: ricotta/cottage cheese to serve

Heat oil and butter in a large skillet over medium heat, and stir in squash along with a good pinch of salt. Reduce heat to lowest and cover pan; cook, stirring every now and then, for at least half an hour — until squash has “melted,” turned rich and soft. Stir in the fresh tarragon and lots of cracked pepper, seasoning with salt to taste. Serve hot or cold, preferably with a good scoop of soft cheese. 

Amanda Miller
Columnist
Lettuce Eat Local

Gentle Saturday morning sounds surrounded me, although they weren’t the normal garden sounds for us. The wind rustled the leaves in the tall trees above (we don’t have enough trees nearby), dogs barked and kids yelled in the yards around (we don’t have close neighbors), and the straw crackled softly underfoot (we didn’t get around to strawing our garden this year). Nothing was strange; it was just easy to tell that I was working at a friend’s again instead of my house — destination gardening is kind of exciting. 

The most familiar sound to me was probably the most abnormal for the majority of people: the quiet yet incessant crunch, crunch, crunch of my three-year-old chomping on the green beans I was picking. I’m not saying other little kids don’t like fresh vegetables, but I’m guessing my son’s devotion to green beans is not totally normal. 

We have pictures of Benson at nine months old, a steamed green bean in each hand, as he leans back and crams them into his mouth. I think we’ve featured them at his birthday meal every year, since he continues to love them in any form (except for that time I stirfried them with a pepper that ended up being much spicier than anticipated). He’ll steal them off our plates, pretend to be a walrus with two green bean tusks hanging out of his mouth, and snatch them straight off the plant with a giggle and a crunch. In the middle of writing this article, at supper, Kiah kept chomping at all the many green bean pieces I offered her, so it looks like she’s following the family trajectory. 

I’m not mad. Maybe it’s even my fault, as I feel like my own personal devotion to green beans has escalated in the past few years — perhaps ever since carrying Benson. I’ve always liked them, although as a kid I probably didn’t appreciate picking them quite as much as I do now. My mom always canned what we didn’t eat fresh, and that’s still the way one of my brothers prefers them; while I’ll absolutely still eat home-canned (sometimes I even get in the mood for storebought canned, which is not a common thing for me to say), I am all about preserving the green bean harvest by freezing them. They’re not the same as fresh, but it’s close enough for me. That is, if any make it into the freezer.

I planted a different kind of green beans this year, and although the plants are growing okay, I don’t see any beans yet; so it’s perfect timing to have these friends’ gardens to glean. We picked a gallon Saturday with more to come, and maybe I should freeze some of them, but I’m absolutely not going to because I want to eat them. 

I’m so enamored with fresh green beans, it’s not entirely unusual to even see them at my place for breakfast…if they’re available, I’m eating them, any time of day. Yesterday morning while getting the yogurt out of the fridge, I saw the container of leftover cashew-basil green beans, and knew they would be a perfect breakfast food. I was right.

Benson and I can eat an oddly large amount of just plain steamed green beans for snack; sprinkling the whole beans with coarse salt, picking them up with our fingers, and polishing them all off. They’re just. so. good. 

And Benson thinks that’s normal, tee hee. Crunch, crunch, crunch. 

Just Peachy Green Bean Salad

One of the iconic garden meals from my childhood and also my life now is the classic combo of new potatoes, fresh green beans, and cubes of ham, all covered in a rich cheesy sauce. I’ll always love that for the nostalgia and the flavor, but I might have just added a new favorite seasonal green bean dish!  Peaches were going around our community the same time the green beans were coming in, so it’s a strangely good pairing all around. 

Prep tips: You want the green beans to be tender but still a bit firm. Any type of peach or nectarine will play well here — just make sure they’re ripe and sweet. 

3 tablespoons lemon juice

1 tablespoon dijon mustard

¼ cup extra-virgin olive oil

1 pound fresh green beans, lightly steamed and cooled

¼ cup candied almonds/pecans

⅓ cup crumbled feta

2 peaches, diced

salt and pepper

Whisk lemon, mustard, and oil together, then toss in remaining ingredients. Season to taste and serve.

Amanda Miller
Columnist
Lettuce Eat Local

As I dragged the grill out of the garage, I had to wonder if this was really our best choice for cooking supper. On one hand, not heating up the house by cooking inside was a big plus, as was of course the flavor of the finished food. Yet on the other hand, cooking outside meant we would have to be outside…and just walking out into the evening’s ambient temperature felt almost like laying myself on the grill grates. 

You know the week I’m talking about. We’re used to hot, but this was hot. I used to say I love the hot days of summer here in Kansas, because they remind me of the two seasons I spent in a literal desert in Kenya. They still do, especially when I take a walk in my Chaco sandals on our dusty dirt road, but I guess I’m getting old and wimpy because I love the idea and memory much more than I love the actual experience anymore. 

Fortunately, Brian did most of the actual grilling, and I just did the prep work. The kids and I were already hot — two seconds outside in the 107° heat and it felt like time for a shower — so we went out on the driveway beside the grill anyway so we could see Brian when he came back and forth to check the food. It was one of those lazy days of summer, when I had gotten done what I needed to and we were just waiting around for Brian to be done milking. 

Getting some fresh air seemed like a good idea, but that’s when I wondered if we should skip the grill and just sidewalk it. As in, just toss the chicken and vegetables on the driveway and let the scorching hot cement do our cooking. We can joke about frying an egg on the sidewalk, although the closer to the truth it gets the less funny it feels.

The kids survived by splashing around in our little blue kiddy pool for a while, although Kiah mostly wanted to lunge-crawl either out of it or into it, whichever place she wasn’t currently, and Benson apparently just wanted to jump around enough to get me soaked too. I am not a water person, and definitely not a please-splash-me person, but it was so hot even I appreciated it. The house felt like an oasis of cool air by the time we got back inside around the table for supper. 

And supper off the grill always feels epic for some reason. Maybe because my family growing up rarely ever grilled (did we even have one? I’m not sure), or maybe because Brian often helps so it’s not just me cooking, or maybe because I have a sort of complex that requires me to throw everything possible on the grill if it’s running. I love the smoky flavor and mild char texture of the grill, and how the simplest components can create such a delicious meal. 

We often begin with the idea of a cut of meat Brian wants to do, and then I start looking around for any and all vegetables to throw on alongside. Foil-wrapped onions and potatoes are standard, but if we have peppers, asparagus, portabellos, or sweet potatoes, those are going on too. And right now is the season for one of our favorites: summer squash. Most of the time I do a simple olive oil, balsamic vinegar, salt, and pepper treatment, and let the grill do the rest. Put a sauce or two (or all of them, if you’re Benson) on the table, and we can put down an amazing amount of vegetables. 

But this time, I had a bunch of fresh herbs sitting around, and some butter sitting on the counter that was totally melted in the heat. Toss them together and voila! the best addition to a grilled — or sidewalked — supper. 

Buttered Herbs

I was going to call this herbed butter, but let’s be honest, the ratio is in favor of the herbs in this case. This spread is lovely since it does double duty both as a cooking baste and a finishing sauce. The combination of herbs in this recipe is delicious, but of course customizable with the seasons. It was perfect on those grilled yellow squashes that I initially made it for, but I can’t think of a vegetable it wouldn’t shine on. Shoot, it couldn’t hurt a steak or chicken thigh, either. 

Prep tips: when I say a handful, I mean a handful — don’t be shy, excessive amounts of herbs is the whole point. The butter should still be spreadable but just barely. 

a handful of chopped fresh parsley

a handful of chopped fresh thyme

a handful of chopped fresh rosemary 

other chopped fresh herbs as desired, such as tarragon, chives, oregano, etc

1 t salt

4-8 oz [1-2 sticks] salted butter, soft

Toss everything in a bowl and stir/smash together with a rubber spatula. Spread liberally on vegetables towards the end of grilling, and then more as serving. 

Amanda Miller
Columnist
Lettuce Eat Local

Let the games begin! 

Around this house, with a three-year-old who only stops moving when he’s sleeping, games are very active. The dude runs almost constantly; if he’s not running, he’s probably riding his balance bicycle or inside bike instead. I’m surprised we haven’t yet worn a groove in a track surrounding the dining room table with how often we run around and around and around it. Benson can’t wait for Kiah to get big enough to chase him. 

Of course we have the normal games, too, like Hide and Seek, and we’ve been on a Memory kick recently. There are plenty that we’ve gradually made our own little things, often in response to some dysregulation: like giving tight squeezes to fill up him up with Mommy’s love when nothing else is right or pretending that we can’t reach each other when he’s being especially whiny (purely a hypothetical situation, of course). 

When the cousins are here, the games take on their own particular spin. Don’t Touch the Benson is an oldie but a goodie: you can guess the goal. I didn’t know how to spell Mech Suit until today when I asked what it actually meant (a mechanical suit that makes you as strong as a giant robot?), but I know it involves my son getting hoisted up by a cousin and being jumped around the house in mighty leaps. The table circuit appears again in Drift Tractor, a game I’m so glad the cousins do because I can handle pushing Benson only a couple tire-screeching circles before getting immensely dizzy. 

I’m assuming there will be some new flairs to our games in the coming weeks, thanks to the Games. The Paris Olympics has a bit more equipment available (not to mention talent), but I’m sure some volleyball, archery, and fencing themes will easily find their way into the activities. 

Shoot, we already have sprints all the time, and I’m fairly certain I saw a game of rugby being played in the living room earlier. 

We never just have the TV on, but the Olympics are a special case, so I have them playing quietly in the background while I type. It’s gymnastics right now, one of my favorites to watch, and we just saw a few of the women on the Brazilian team compete. Benson paid attention to a balance beam routine, then commented very nonchalantly, “I can do that, sometimes.”

Good luck, pal, I can’t even do a cartwheel so I don’t expect you to have gotten any gymnastic genes from me. I’m not sure your daddy can touch his toes, so yeah no help there either. 

While I can’t help with the physical prowess side of things, I can try and do my part from the kitchen. Thanks to my parents’ globally interested palates, I grew up eating dishes from around the world; usually ones we made and usually out of one particular cookbook. I grabbed that cookbook off the shelf earlier this week, in search of an international meal that would suit my needs that day: one-pot, make-ahead, and at least somewhat “normal” for the less adventurous cousins I would also be feeding. Appropriately for all this amazing gymnastics I’m seeing, I settled on a casserole from Brazil. I thought it was very good, although not quite as impressive as the team’s tumbling. 

Our menus and our games will continue to be influenced by the Olympics for a bit, and I’ll continue enjoying Benson confidently assuming his somersault was as impressive as the floor routines. 

Brazilian Mashed Potato and Meat Pie [Nhoques de Forno]

This dish is both so recognizable — hello meat and potatoes — and also so different. I’ve never added flour or baking powder to mashed potatoes except to make gnocchi, which this is not at all…although the translation from Portuguese does mean “oven gnocchi” so there’s that. The two layers of different meats is unusual but fun. The cookbook I reference is called Extending the Table; get one. 

Prep tips: Like I said, I thought the flavors were great, but Brian was jaded by the small amount of meats called for, so just add more if you want to make it more substantial. 

4 cups warm mashed potatoes (nothing added yet)

1 cup warm milk

2 tablespoons butter

2 eggs

½ cup shredded cheese of choice

½ cup flour

1 teaspoon salt

2 teaspoons baking powder

thin slices of ham and mozzarella

½ pound browned ground beef/sausage

2 cups pureed fresh tomatoes

pinches of salt, sugar, and pepper

Add the milk, butter, eggs, cheese, flour, salt, and baking powder to the potatoes; mashing and stirring well until smooth. Layer half into a 9×13” pan. Cover with two layers of the slices of ham and mozz, then spread on the remaining potatoes. Heat beef and tomatoes with seasoning, simmering for a few minutes; then pour over the top of the potatoes. Bake at 300° for 40 minutes. 

Lovina’s Amish Kitchen
Lovina Eitcher,
Old Order Amish
Cook, Wife &
Mother of Eight

We are having some warm days after a week of cool weather. I am hoping this heat will be gone, so we can have cooler weather for son Joseph’s wedding next week. 

Yes, it’s only ten days until Joseph and Grace’s wedding day, Lord willing. 

As the wedding day for son Joseph and Grace gets closer, I treasure these last days of having son Joseph around even more. I will really miss him. He comes home from work and always finds something that needs to be done around here. When he sees me getting laundry off the lines, he’ll come out there and carry the baskets of clothes in for me, saving me lots of steps. This is just one of the many good deeds he does for me, and I will truly miss these days that will soon be a thing of the past. 

Last night, it was so warm, and I was dreading having to cook supper. Joseph said, “Mom, I’ll order pizza out for supper, so you won’t have to make anything.” What a treat it was for me.

May God bless him and always be his guide as he takes this next step in life.

Son Kevin will also really miss not having him around. With his handicap, he relies a lot on his brothers Benjamin and Joseph. I hope gradually we can make our house more accessible, but it all takes time and money. He is looking forward to his power chair that we have ordered! This will really help keep his feet from swelling up so much. Being over six feet tall in a mobility scooter all day is not good for his long legs and feet. They are too cramped up and make his feet swell up. Living with a handicap can be a challenge for him and being a caretaker takes a lot of patience. I am so glad my health permits me to be able to help him. 

It hardly seems possible that my youngest (Kevin) will turn 19 on September 2. I recently read one of my old columns from 2006 where I wrote “our biggest thrill lately was seeing Kevin taking his first steps and walking short distances. I think he enjoys the attention when everyone oohs and aahs when he stands up.” 

Time does not stand still, that is for sure. 

August 22 was sister Verena’s 58th birthday. Sister Emma and sons Jacob and Steven, her son Benjamin and Crystal and Isaiah, her daughter Elizabeth and Manuel, her daughter Emma and Menno, Jessica, Menno Jr., and Jazlyn, our family… Joe and I and sons Benjamin, Joseph, and Kevin, daughter Verena, special friends Daniel (Verena) and Grace (Joseph), daughter Elizabeth and Tim, Abigail, T.J. Allison, and Andrea, daughter Susan and Ervin, Kaitlyn, Jennifer, Isaiah, Ryan, Curtis, and Ervin Jr., daughter Loretta and Dustin, Denzel and Byron, daughter Lovina and Daniel all took supper in for Verena’s birthday. 

My husband Joe grilled 40 pounds of chicken to take over. Also on the menu was cheesy ranch potatoes, pizza casserole, cucumber salad, chips, bean dip, cake, desserts, watermelon, and more. We had more than enough food and ate outside in the shade. It was a nice evening. Corn hole was played, and the evening went much too fast. Nephews Jacob and Steven make regular and mini corn hole games, plus custom signs, washer toss games, home décor, and much more. They do a great job. They also both have muscular dystrophy, and this helps keep them occupied.

Daughter Lovina and I canned 11 quarts of dill pickles for them with cucumbers that daughter Susan and Ervin gave her from their garden. We also canned 18 quarts tomato chunks for us from our garden. Our tomatoes are slowing down and are in need of rain. 

We do have many blessings and have much to be thankful for. Let us pray for our country and for each other. 

God bless you all!

Butterscotch Pie 

1 cup packed light brown sugar
4 tablespoons cornstarch
1/2 teaspoon salt
2 cups milk
2 egg yolks, beaten
1 tablespoon butter
1 teaspoon vanilla extract
1 (9-inch) pie crust, baked

In top of double boiler, combine brown sugar, cornstarch, salt and milk. Cook, stirring constantly, until mixture starts to thicken, about 20 minutes. Whisk in egg yolks; continue to cook and stir until filling is thickened.

While pudding mixture is cooking, preheat the oven to 400°F. Remove filling from heat, and stir in butter and vanilla. Pour filling into prepared pie crust. Bake until the top begins to brown, about 5 minutes.

Lovina’s Amish Kitchen is written by Lovina Eicher, Old Order Amish writer, cook, wife, and mother of eight. Her three cookbooks, The Cherished Table, The Essential Amish Cookbook, and Amish Family Recipes, are available wherever books are sold. Readers can write to Eicher at Lovina’s Amish Kitchen, PO Box 234, Sturgis, MI 49091 (please include a self-addressed stamped envelope for a reply); or email [email protected] and your message will be passed on to her to read.