I’m writing this post with a healthy dose of dirt under my fingernails. I just came from my garden, having discovered that my newly planted lettuce is now in the sprout stage. The chard and spinach remain elusive, but I’m hoping another few good weather days will influence them to come up as well. Today’s work included planting carrots, peas and a multitude of red and yellow onions. I was thinking about how this would be the first year I abstained from planting white onions when my next door neighbor wanders over and says hello:
“Hi, neighbor!”
“Hey friend, how ARE you this fine, fine Sunday afternoon?”
“Good, now that my onions are planted. I have reds and whites, but no yellows.”
“Hmmmmm…I have reds and yellows, but no whites.”
“So, we’re trading white and yellows, then, right?”
“Ex-ACT-ly.”
This Sunday afternoon banter along the retention wall between our two properties is a constitutional tenet. It’s as much a part of our female connection as the “Hi ho, neighbor!” call is between our husbands. If we’re outside in the same vicinity, we speak. Or wave. Or nod. Today we spoke. But then, came something extra.
“I just pulled up the remainder of my winter garden and have too many radishes. Would you like a few?”
My antennae rose as I thought about the possibilities. “Sure!” I replied. Then, “radishes…radishes…radishes…” My mind quickly whirled while I considered the possibilities. And then the answer came to me. In the back of my mind, I’ve always wanted to try Al Eschbach’s favorite food combination. I surmised that TODAY must be that experimental opportunity.
I did some quick research to find out all the nuances I could about Eschabach’s food love and discovered a few things:
- It was Munich – where he first had radishes and beer. Famous for traveling across the ocean every year since the mid-70s, Al has had plenty of opportunities to sample international cuisine. And evidently, this was a combination that stuck with him big time.
- The Lost Ogle has joked about the hours wasted Continue reading My Little Victory Garden: Al Eschbach, Radishes and Beer