Summer's Bounty

Our neighbor gifted us with a huge summer squash that became squash and cheddar fritters, served with sliced tomatoes from our lonely tomato plant (don't know if it was the Paul Robeson or the Cherokee Purple that survived-I hope it was Mr. Robeson), and some quinoa.  It was a nice summer dinner as a thunderstorm rolled in.  Everyone on our block has a tiny backyard.  Our is poorly weeded brick and flower beds, with a couple pots of tomatoes and herbs.  One of our neighbors works in some field related to urban food production.  His yard is filled with hop vines, tomatoes, and squash.  Earlier in the season they had tons of greens.  Most people grow something.  The neighbor who gave us the squash always grows strawberries and tomatoes.  There's something comforting and victory gardenish about seeing so much bounty in tiny little Baltimore yards.  It makes me think we all might survive for a minute after the revolution comes.