Salsa In Time.

I spent June 5th through the 8th tromping around Ashland, Oregon with two dear friends. After a heady whirlwind of Shakespeare, August Wilson and Chekhov, my comrades in arms and I drove back to the Bay Area, reading aloud to keep each other amused and awake. We had a splendid time.

Upon my return, C. informed me that I had made entirely too much food and most of it was past its prime, since I'd prepared four days worth of meals for two people rather than scaling down for C.'s solitary sustenance. Darn.



The next week or so won't be a terribly photogenic one, foodwise. In the interest of balancing out our cat's recent vet bills and using up whatever I can salvage from the week before, "thrifty" will prevail over "pretty." Tonight, though, after rummaging among the carefully organized inventory of groceries known as "that crap on the kitchen floor," I found one perfectly ripe avocado, a nectarine that somehow escaped the soggy fate of its fellows, a whole lot of oranges, and two roma tomatoes. The lentils and brown rice I made for our main course won't be appearing here, as it is a homely and shy dish, but the salsa is a bold, haphazard thing. I'm sure it won't mind being paraded around a bit.

Summer Salsa
I call it "Summer Salsa" and not "Whatever-the-crap-you-can-find-in-your-fridge salsa" because, by sheer coincidence, most of the ingredients I used are in season. It turned out fairly tasty.

3 cloves garlic, very finely minced

half a medium-sized yellow onion, finely chopped

1 ripe nectarine, diced into even cubes

1 ripe avocado, diced into even cubes

2 roma tomatoes, seeds and inner pulp removed and diced into even cubes

1 medium orange, sectioned, deseeded and cut into a roughly even dice

a drizzle of your best olive oil

Combine all ingredients in a pretty bowl. Have a large quantity of chips handy. Salt and pepper to taste.