Last night I was cooking for myself at the end of a long day. The windows were open in the kitchen. Behind our home is a row of houses that face two baseball fields, and on many summer nights we can hear baseball being played before a small crowd.
My heart and stomach applauded together as I set about my work. This was echoed by the baseball fans. I chopped two onions and a beet we found unexpectedly at the London Ferrell Community Garden just hours earlier. Mild applause here (the beet is not a crowd-pleaser). These went into the skillet and were followed by okra, which was more exciting. The green beans seemed to get the crowd into it a bit more. I reached for an ear of corn Jodie had gotten from the farmer’s market and they went wild. All of this began to simmer together, and I was thinking about my next move. I grabbed our first heirloom tomato–a yellow beauty–you should have seen it. This brought the house down. I pumped my fist and did a victory dance. I don’t recall the final score, but the home team had clearly won.