by banannalouise

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lately, it’s been in the almost-eighties, here. mild and windy. and although it’s february and I have had pink grapefruits and yellow lemons in my fruit bowl, I’ve also had fat orange heirloom tomatoes. lately it’s been this amalgam of winter & summer fare; greek salad spicy with chile and peperoncini, panzanella, roasted beets with fennel and orange, salami, blueberries.

I’d planned on caprese this week, but the weather just turned. so last night, I roasted the tomatoes instead, and they are stockpiled; all withered and jammy, smelling of promise, ready to make a caprese for the transitioning seasons.

I’ll be having that for as long as my mozzarella will provide.

and I’ll be having anchovies on toast. ah, anchovies on toast. it is so very humble and so very winning in that way only starch, salt and fat can be. and if you’re a rational human being, you have all of the ingredients on hand right now.

start with good anchovies, salt-preserved or canned. I’ve been using Cento anchovies in olive oil, which stay in one piece, and are tasty to boot. drain the anchovies (into a bowl, if you’d like to save the oil for cooking) and rinse them gently, but well, and lightly pat them dry. then, toss the lot with a polite swig of vinegar and a drizzle of a tastier olive oil than that which they were preserved in. add some cracked pepper and chopped herbs; parsley would work well, as would basil, but I’ve been using mint and it does just fine. toast a couple slices of crusty bread, rub ’em with a clove of garlic, and slather ’em with good unsalted butter. top off your toast with the anchovies, smashing them slightly with the back of a fork. no need to use a whole can if you’re just making a snack; a little goes a-ways, and you can save the anchovies, chilled, in that chipped salad bowl your mom gave you. they’ll just keep marinating.

behold! a happy sum, much greater than its parts.

david ryski . b. ferry .