You know those roasted tomatoes I mentioned yesterday? Well, I charred them.

Made me so mad. I thought maybe it was a sign that I wasn’t quite well yet and ought to return to my bedroom chambers for another 24 hours or so.

But then I decided to make hamburgers for supper, and the world looked like a better, brighter place, once my belly was stuffed with a fat, juicy burger.

(I didn’t tell you, but in that photo of me lying on the sofa when I was sick, I had just woken up from a dream in which I was assembling a giant, as in plate-sized, hamburger—bun [it was flat like pita, but that didn’t matter in the dream], hamburger patty, lettuce, onion, mayonnaise—I even got to eat a couple bites of it before I woke up, and ever since then I had been obsessing about hamburgers.) It was a delightful meal, let me tell you. There are two and a half patties left over and no one in my house better touch them—they are mine.)

My house swarmed with children this morning. Actually, the house was child-free most of the time (I do have my limits).

My Girlfriend Shannon came with her three kids and her Girlfriend Karen (and her four boys) who is visiting from out-of-state. I told (warned) my kids that there would be six boys visiting and one girl, and when they arrived, Miss Becca Boo ran and hid in the back hall behind a bag of wheat. I didn’t blame her at all.

Yesterday when Shannon called to make plans for their visit, she informed me what we were going to make for lunch. I had no option but to obey her, especially since her idea was a good one. I took the gallon of milk they brought along and turned it into fresh mozzarella cheese, which we then ate with the fantastic tomato dressing/salad that Shannon makes every fall (juicy tomatoes, garlic, balsamic vinegar, basil…), sopped up with brown bread hot from the oven. We made the kids meat and cheese sandwiches for their lunch, but us girlfriends scarfed down our gourmet fare while perched on stools around the kitchen table, all the while alternating between moaning in delight and yelling at the kids to sit still, go outside, don’t push each other, don’t throw bread (cantaloupe, carrots…). It was a spectacular meal.

Now, I need to finish this post up because in a little while I’m leaving to go to the big city where I’ll meet up with Shannon and Karen at the theater where we’re going to see Mama Mia (I think that’s what it’s called, anyway). Woo-hoo! I’m goin’ out with my girlfriends!

Tomato dressing, fresh mozzarella, eleven kids, and a movie, all in one day. It’s almost more than I can handle!

While you still have mint growing in your gardens, meadows, or at the edge of the driveway, alongside the ugly metal barn,

I want to give you this recipe for summer tea/juice. It’s light and refreshing, lightly sweetened with honey and orange juice. My children love it.

Orange-Mint Tea
Adapted from Simply In Season

I don’t measure the ingredients for this tea, so what I’ve written below is just to give you a rough idea. Change it around to suit your tastes.

10-15 stalks of mint, just the top 6-8 inches
1/3 cup orange juice concentrate, or one cup of reconstituted orange juice
the juice from two lemons
1/2-3/4 cup honey

Pick over the stalks of mint, removing any bad leaves, and if you want to, gently rinse the stalks with water. Put two to three quarts of water in a large kettle and bring to a boil. Stir the mint leaves into the water, put the lid back on the kettle, and remove the kettle from the heat. Allow the tea to steep for 30 minutes.

Scoop the mint out of the water and pour the tea through a fine-mesh strainer to remove all leafy particles. Stir the honey and lemon and orange juices into the tea and add more cold water, or ice, to make a gallon of tea.

Yesterday I lied. I said that I was “still down, sort of”. There ended up being no “sort of” in sight. Once I finished my post, I went back to bed and spent the rest of the day there, sleeping off and on, too headachy to even read. Then I fell asleep with The Baby Nickel and slept the whole night, too. I don’t think I’ve had that much sleep in ages.

I got up at six this morning and have been on the go, albeit a bit slowly and gingerly, ever since. I washed the kitchen floor, put two trays of Romas in the oven to roast, made breakfast and lunch, got a French toast casserole in the fridge for tomorrow’s breakfast, made mustard eggs, read to Miss Becca Boo and Yo-Yo Boy (we’re reading Pinky Pye by Eleanor Estes), collected seeds from my heirloom lettuce, and so on.

Obviously, we skipped church. I wasn’t feeling that good.

I’m going to tell you about the smashed potatoes next, but before I do, I have a trivia question for you. When I boil my red beets, the edges turn yellow-ish.

But, after letting them sit for an hour or so, the red color comes back into them.

Why is that? Is it because the boiling water just sucks the color out of them and then as they cook they keep bleeding red from the middle outward? Is it the type of beet I have? Any scientific reason for this? Anyone?

Okay, now on to the smashed potatoes.

Smashing Potatoes
I read about these potatoes on Sarah’s blog, and she says she read about them in some fancy cooking magazine, as well as on the Pioneer Woman’s website. I’m not going to give exact measurements since it’s really more of process then a recipe. I hope that doesn’t frustrate you too much.

These potatoes go with anything—eggs at breakfast, hamburgers, corn-on-the-cob and tomato sandwiches, salads, spicy red beans, and they make an excellent snack when dipped in ketchup, or gobbled up plain (I had made the potatoes, the ones in the following photographs, for an after-work, pre-supper snack). You can bake them with fresh herbs, or serve them up with sour cream, salsa, bacon, and black olives. I’m sure you’ll get a chance to eat them a variety of different ways, because once you have tried them, you will make them again and again and again and…. Yep, that many times. No joke.

12-24 smallish potatoes, about the size of golf balls (this time around I used French fingerlings)
olive oil
coarse salt
black pepper

Wash the potatoes (no need to peel them) and cook in boiling water till tender. At this point you can continue on with the recipe, or you can store them in the refrigerator until a later time that’s more convenient for you. (Or, if you’re like me, you’ll boil up a big kettle of them so you have them ready to go whenever you get hit with a craving.)

Coat a heavy-bottomed ban with olive oil, and sprinkle it with some coarse salt and black pepper (this helps the potatoes to keep from sticking to the pan, as well as giving flavor to the bottom side). Set the potatoes on the pan, leaving ample space between each potato.

Using a potato smashing device, roughly smash each potato.

The goal here is to get the potatoes mashed fairly thin. If they crumble apart, just push them back together with your fingers.

Generously drizzle olive oil on top of each potato (about one teaspoon per potato) and sprinkle them with more salt and pepper.

Bake the potatoes on the bottom rack of your oven, preheated to 400 degrees, until the undersides are crispy and golden brown (10-15 minutes). Flip the potatoes over and continue baking until the other side is also nicely browned. Serve hot.