October 24, 2012
Micah planted a small row of French Breakfast radishes in the fall garden, and they're just now starting to mature. This weekend, he harvested some turnip greens (as it's not looking like we'll get actual turnips), and he pulled some of the radishes as well. They are adorable - the French Breakfast variety is slightly elongated, and has a white cap, and begs to you simultaneously coo at it and eat it whole.
He was experimenting on the grill that day, and wasn't sure how long it would be before dinner was ready. And he knew that while I love nothing more than hanging out with him with a drink while he grills for hours, I also turn into a complete drooling zombie when my blood sugar crashes. So. He lightly oiled, seasoned, and toasted six slices of baguette, and then created three different radish-centered amuse bouches for me to tide me over.
(I know, right?!)
One had queso fresco, cilantro, and tomato; one had bleu cheese, tomato, and basil; and one (my favorite) had goat cheese and wild chives. He presented each in faux-pompous Iron Chef-style (his kitchen nickname is Chef Micahmoto; mine is Lizzy Flaybry) and I just remember giggling the whole time. They were, obviously, amazing - flavorful and fresh and bite-sized is always going to be amazing. But I was more blown away by his thoughtfulness, and how much effort he put into making a snack for me so I wouldn't eat his braaaaains before the dinner he was also making for me was ready.