Supposedly if you hang a mirror on a star and then had a telescope strong enough to see the mirror (and you got the mirror up there faster than the speed of light) you could see the past. That is the extent of my physics - a theory that could work but never will.
In the past week I was sure I would finish And the Universe Didn't Blink, have everything ready for the Fringe Festival (news release, postcard, lead line, elevator pitch, waivers, emergency forms - oh - you get it), have the back raspberry garden weeded, clean my house to within an inch of its life all the while cooking sumptuous meals.
What the mirror would reflect is someone staring blankly at the computer screen wondering how to get a mirror to fall from the sky (onstage) without causing a mess, a dirty home and someone spending way too much time rubbing the cat's tummy.
There were a lot of expectations. My sugar pea plants are teaching me patience. They grow about 1/4 inch every two days (I measure) and so my planned summer risotto with peas and Parmesan would not come from the garden. But from Farmer's Market.
And what do you do with teeny-weeny, itsy-bitsy baby sweet peas. Smash em!
Add a little fresh mint, some salt and pepper (or turn on the heat with a little crushed red pepper), some olive oil and just pour out your frustrations into a mortal and pestle and crush those little babies - but not into a paste. I like them chunky. (Add your own herbs, brighten it with lemon - just smash them.)
Using your favorite bread (I used an herbed flatbread), smear some ricotta on them and then bake at about 375 degrees F until the ricotta starts to melt. Add the smashed peas and serve.
Proud Italian Cook has a lovely Smashed Peas with Edamame on Ricotta Toasts. Find it here.
Meanwhile, I am still betting on solving all the world's problems by Saturday (no pressure) when I am off to spend a week in lobster-land. I have three more days. It's possible. Just as possible as hanging a mirror on a star.