Too Tired for the Harvest Moon

I've always loved everything about the full moons. Each month watching for them, calling them by the Native American names I first read in Gladys Taber's books. 

At our old house we watched it rise over the hill looking out our front windows. And yes, the Harvest Moon was always orange. 

 At our home here, it rises above trees outside the kitchen window and is just a pretty creamy white. 

Why is that, I wonder? 

And we go to bed far earlier than we did in years past, too early to see a full moon soar high overhead, too tired to stay up for it.  But I still love the Harvest Moon and these words in a favorite book by Ronald Blythe call to something deep and dim in my memory, something a little mysterious.

Does it call to you, too? At all?

A harvest moon stares frankly into the house with a 'Here I am once more...

but where are the sights I used to see, the tired field-men...

the thankful supper, the tithes and quarter-rent on the scrubbed table?

Ronald Blythe

Word from Wormingford

 

Was your Harvest Moon orange this year? Did it magically shine into your windows, calling to something old and disappearing? Maybe to grandparents and great-grandparents who farmed the land, as mine did? 

Do Blythe's words thankful table hint to you of something almost sacred, something we unconsciously seek to provide our loved ones with even if what we put on our dinner table was grown by others? 

Here's a simple salad recipe that I could have for supper over and over. It's from my wonderful new copy of America's Test Kitchen The Complete Mediterranean Cookbook and I would link to it except for the fact that printing it off there is impossible if you're not subscribed (by money) to their online site. I wish I had the ability to have you click on a print icon and just print the recipe but haven't tried to set that up.

It's really simple anyway, I just added leftover roasted chicken breast slivers to make it a one-dish meal and sauteed slices of leftover baked potato.

America's Test Kitchen's Asparagus and Arugula Salad with Cannellini Beans:

5 T. extra virgin olive oil
1/2 red onion, sliced thin
l lb. asparagus, trimmed and cut on bias in 1-inch lengths
Salt and Pepper
1 can Cannellini beans, rinsed 
2 T. plus 2 t. balsamic vinegar
6 cups baby arugula

1. Heat 2 T. olive oil in nonstick skillet over high heat and add onion and cook until lightly browned, about 1 minute. Add asparagus, 1/4 t. salt and 1/4 t. pepper and cook, stirring, until asparagus is browned and crispy, about 4 minutes. Transfer to bowl, stir in beans, and let cool slightly.

2. Whisk vinegar, 1/4 t. salt and 1/8 t. pepper together in small bowl. Whisking constantly, slowly drizzle in remaining 3 T. oil. Gently toss arugula with 2 T. dressing until coated. Season with salt and pepper to taste. Divide arugula among plates. Toss asparagus mixture with remaining dressing, arrange over arugula and serve.