The Last Harvest of Summer

"Lord, it is time. The summer was very big. Lay thy shadow on the sundials, and on the meadows let the winds go loose. Command the last fruits that they shall be full; give them another two more southerly days, press them on to fulfillment…"

-     Rainer Maria Rilke

Several days ago, while driving home from my writers' group meeting, I saw a most beautiful sight — monarch butterflies floating through the sky like gigantic orange snowflakes. So lovely, so fragile, these harbingers of fall. Like me, they also do not want summer to end. Some linger on the goldenrod on the sand dunes drinking in the sweet nectar of the still warm sun.

Yet, it is time for them to go. Autumn will begin as it always does. But before I put the summer season to rest, I go outside to pick the last vestiges of basil. I bury my nose in the sweet fragrance. I love basil; it's the essence of summer. And I lament its passing.

I read a gardening article once in which someone referred to basil as the wimpy herb. I don't agree. It's a robust, wise herb, a distinctive and discriminating herb that chooses not to continue growing once the cold sets in, just as the monarch is wise enough to migrate.

Before the basil grows woody and the leaves drop, I pick as much as I can to give it that one last hurrah. I've tried freezing and drying, but the wonderfully unique taste pales, so instead, I celebrate basil's royalty by making pesto.

Pesto is a great way to use up your basil as well as your tomatoes. You can freeze pesto in ice cube trays and use a small amount in a dip, soup, pasta, on grilled chicken, or in bread recipes.Here's a few of my favorite recipes:

Tomato Pesto Sauce: This also helps use up some of the parsley and tomatoes in your garden. Serves approx. 8
1 cup fresh basil leaves .
½ cup parsley

2 garlic cloves

¼ to ⅓ freshly grated Parmesan or Romano cheese (I prefer Romano)

1/4 cup olive oil
3 Tbsp. pine nuts
2 cloves of garlic
1 large seeded tomato
2 Tbsp chicken broth (Add less or more depending on how thick you like your pesto sauce)

1. Place all ingredients in a food processor and blend, either chopped or smooth depending on preference.
2. A serving is usually about ¼ cup per person. Mix with pasta or baste grilled chicken or fish.

NOTE: This pesto sauce recipe is not the characteristic green because tomato is added.

Pesto sauce: For the purists who prefer the traditional green. Serves approx. 4
                                      

      1 cup fresh basil leaves

       2 cloves of garlic

       ⅓ cup freshly grated Parmesan or Romano cheese

       3 Tbsp. pine nuts                                    

      ⅔ cup chicken or vegetable broth (Add less if you like a thicker sauce)

  

1. Place all ingredients in a food processor and blend, either chopped or    smooth depending on preference.
2. A serving is usually about ¼ cup per person. Mix with pasta or baste grilled chicken or fish.


Bread Machine Pesto Bread: Another wonderful way to enjoy the bounty of your garden.

1 cup buttermilk (I always keep powdered buttermilk on hand for recipes)
⅓ cup dry white wine
3 Tbsp freshly grated Parmesan cheese
3 Tbsp pesto
3 ⅓ cups bread flour
2 cloves of garlic
1 Tbsp sugar

¾tsp salt

1 tsp active dry yeast or bread machine yeast

Add ingredients to machine according to manufacturer's directions. I prefer using the dough cycle, then shaping rolls or use a bread loaf pan, but this bread works just as well on the basic baking cycle. If you use the dough cycle, when finished, punch the dough down, then shape, place in a greased pan. Cover and let rise for 30 minutes. Bake at 350º for 10 to 15 minutes for rolls, 20 minutes for a loaf, or until brown.

NOTE: Pesto can also be made using a mortar and pestle if you don't have a food processor. It will take a little longer, but definitely burn more calories! I have an Italian friend who wouldn't do it any other way.

Once my pesto is ready, I pour a glass of wine to toast this last harvest of summer. I look out the window and see a few stray monarchs floating by. "Go," I whisper, "Go. It's time. Fly away to your next summer place."

For "…now in September the garden has cooled…
The harvest has dwindled, and I have grown apart
from the intense midsummer relationship that
                    brought it..."                           Robert Finch