My Salsa recipe

                    

My Salsa gathered from my garden.

I never know how hot they are.  Two jalapenos was all I needed to make this Salsa very hot. 

A major ingredient in Salsa,  soon to become coriander, will be saved for next year. 

As I was pulling an onion for my Salsa I remembered an evening in France.

Driving along a country road, we decided that it was time to find a place to spend the night.  It was late and we were tired.  We stopped at the first available spot.

It looked a little rough but we knew that it would do.  We were very tired. We decided to have dinner and Mr G, after having driven for most of the afternoon, wanted a martini.

A martini of sorts.  A Gibson to be exact.  He explained to the waiter that it was similar to a martini but instead of an olive he wanted a small cocktail onion. 

Our waiter indicated that he understood. 

The Gibson arrived and so did a large garden onion on a plate, with garden soil still attached to the roots. 

We used every ounce of willpower not to burst out laughing.  Our rough looking waiter wore a very large and a very ugly red scar on the right side of his face.  In his limited English he had mentioned something about the French Foreign Legion.

My Salsa recipe is very simple.  It has only a few ingredients:

Tomatoes, Jalapenos, onions, cilantro and small amounts of olive oil, sugar, salt and balsamic vinegar. 

I can't give you the exact amounts because it depends on how many tomatoes I use and how hot the peppers are. 

Cilantro in bloom from my garden. The small leaves are still strong enough to give the salsa that particular flavor that gives it the South- of - the - Border character.  

While I was in the garden I picked a Zinnia bouquet.  

Did you know that Zinnias are native to Mexico?  

Wishing you a wonderful remainder of the week.  

Gina

https://betweennapsontheporch.net/

Two years of blogging, post number 300

                                 

One, almost Two Years of Blogging.  Can it be?  200, 300 posts?
Partial Re post of August 19, 2010

I'm celebrating

No time to sit around

Canning season is in full swing

There are cucumbers to pickle

The garden is bursting with produce

As I was gathering, from my garden, the necessary ingredients for my pickled cucumbers, I remembered an evening in France.

Driving along a country road, we decided that it was time to find a place to spend the night.  It was late and we were tired.  We stopped at the first available spot.

It looked a little sparse but we knew that it would do. We decided to have dinner and Gene, after having driven for most of the afternoon, wanted a martini.

A martini of sorts.  A Gibson to be exact.  He explained to the waiter that it was similar to a martini but instead of an olive he wanted a small cocktail onion. 

Our waiter indicated that he understood. 

The Gibson arrived and so did a large garden onion on a plate, with garden soil still attached to the roots. 

We used every ounce of willpower not to burst out laughing.  Our rough looking waiter wore a very large and a very ugly red scar on the right side of his face.  In his limited English he had mentioned the French Foreign Legion.

Added note 2011:  Don't know what I was thinking?  Don't know what I wanted to accomplish by blogging when I began in July of 2009.  I guess I wanted to share with you a life that combined an early upbringing in a foreign country with my experiences in the "New World".  Now, so many years later, I'm back living in a small farming community, practicing many of the old world skills which were a very prominent part of my early years.  I thought, possibly, you might be interested. 

Thank you, my dear readers,  for your support and encouragement.  I always look forward to your visits. 

Gina