By Two years. One hundred and four weeks. I have been writing this blog for two years, and in that time: Marcus married Tasha. Brittany became a pharmacist. Kayla is about to become a nurse. The Local Fresh Initiative changed how five schools feed their children. Earl had a cardiac scare and bronchitis and a bad winter and he's still here. I turned sixty-one and then sixty-two. I made approximately 730 meals at home and supervised approximately 87,600 school lunches and I didn't burn any of them, which is a record I intend to maintain.
The garden is in the ground and growing. The tomato plants are standing up straight, reaching for the sun. The peppers are in. The okra seeds are down. The herbs are spreading. Earl's garden — it will always be Earl's garden — is alive again, the same cycle, the same faith, the same dirt that has held our food and our love for three decades.
I made shrimp and grits tonight. Again. On purpose. Because this is how I mark time — not with calendars but with recipes. Week 1, shrimp and grits. Week 52, shrimp and grits. Week 100, shrimp and grits. Week 104, shrimp and grits. The same grits, the same shrimp, the same skillet, the same man at the table. But I am different. I am two years older and two years wiser and two years deeper into this life, and the shrimp and grits taste different now — not because the recipe changed, but because I changed. The same food tastes different depending on what you've lived through since the last time you made it. That's the magic of cooking, baby. The recipe stays. You transform.
Earl ate his bowl and he said, "Two years of this." I said, "Two years of what? The blog or the grits?" He said, "Both." I said, "Are you tired of either one?" He said, "I will never be tired of your grits, Dot." He didn't say anything about the blog. He didn't need to. The man eats the grits and reads the blog and sits in his chair and holds my hand, and that is his review. Five stars. No notes.
Next year is year three. Kayla will graduate. The garden will grow. The children will be fed. And I will stand in this kitchen and stir and write and love, because that is what I was put here to do, and I am not done. Not by a long shot, baby. Not by a long shot.
Now go on and feed somebody.
I said the shrimp and grits were tonight’s meal, and they were — but earlier in the afternoon, before Earl sat down at the table, I went out to the garden and I snipped basil until my fingers smelled like summer. That’s the thing about a garden that’s alive again: it keeps giving, and you keep receiving. So here is what the herbs asked me to make with them — zucchini noodles with a pumpkin seed pesto that is bright and grassy and so deeply green it almost glows, and it will feed you like the earth meant to feed you all along. This one is for the garden. This one is for the growing season. This one is for year three.
Heather’s Zucchini Noodles with Basil-Pumpkin Seed Pesto
Prep Time: 15 min | Cook Time: 5 min | Total Time: 20 min | Servings: 4
Ingredients
- 4 medium zucchini, ends trimmed
- 2 cups fresh basil leaves, packed
- 1/2 cup raw pumpkin seeds (pepitas)
- 2 cloves garlic, peeled
- 1/3 cup extra-virgin olive oil, plus more for sauteing
- 3 tablespoons fresh lemon juice
- 1/4 cup grated Parmesan cheese (or 3 tablespoons nutritional yeast for dairy-free)
- 1/2 teaspoon fine sea salt, plus more to taste
- 1/4 teaspoon black pepper
- Pinch of red pepper flakes (optional)
- Cherry tomatoes and extra pumpkin seeds, for garnish
Instructions
- Toast the pumpkin seeds. In a dry skillet over medium heat, toast the pumpkin seeds for 3—4 minutes, stirring frequently, until they begin to pop and turn lightly golden. Remove from heat and let cool for 5 minutes.
- Make the pesto. Add the toasted pumpkin seeds, basil, garlic, lemon juice, Parmesan, salt, and pepper to a food processor. Pulse 5—6 times to roughly chop. With the processor running, drizzle in the olive oil in a steady stream until the pesto is smooth but still has a little texture. Taste and adjust salt or lemon as needed.
- Spiralize the zucchini. Using a spiralizer, julienne peeler, or box grater, cut the zucchini into noodles. Place them on a clean kitchen towel or paper towels and pat gently to remove excess moisture.
- Saute the noodles (optional). For a warm dish, heat 1 teaspoon olive oil in a large skillet over medium-high heat. Add the zucchini noodles and toss for 1—2 minutes only — just enough to take the raw edge off without making them limp. Remove from heat immediately. For a raw preparation, skip this step entirely.
- Toss and serve. Add the pesto to the zucchini noodles, one generous spoonful at a time, tossing gently to coat. You may not need all the pesto — dress to your taste. Divide among bowls and garnish with cherry tomatoes, a few extra pumpkin seeds, a shaving of Parmesan, and red pepper flakes if using. Serve immediately.
Nutrition (per serving)
Calories: 285 | Protein: 9g | Fat: 24g | Carbs: 11g | Fiber: 3g | Sodium: 210mg