It is looking like this summer will be a hot one, a time for lots of outdoor grilling and minimal indoor cooking. Here is an excellent compliment to any grilled entree…
Recipe of the Week: Sweet and Sour Summer Salad
8 oz. pasta twists
2 c. broccoli florets
2/3 c. shredded carrots
1 medium Gala or Fuji apple, cored/seeded/chopped
1/3 c. plain nonfat yogurt
1/3 c. apple juice
3 tbs. cider vinegar
1 tbs. light olive oil
1 tbs. Dijon mustard
1 tsp. honey
1/2 tsp. dried thyme
baby spinach (optional)
another apple of your choice, sliced into wedges (optional)
1. Cook pasta as directed, sans salt. Add broccoli during the last 2 minutes. Drain and rinse under cold water until pasta and broccoli are cool; drain well.
2. Place pasta, broccoli, carrots, and chopped apple in medium bowl.
3. In a small bowl, combine yogurt, apple juice, cider vinegar, oil, mustard, honey, and thyme. Pour over pasta mixture and toss to evenly coat.
4. Serve individually or on a large plate lined with spinach leaves and garnish with sliced apple.
Thought of the Week: Aging…Yesterday was Dad’s 86th birthday. According to the doctor, he is fit as a fiddle and could live another fifteen years, like his ancestors. Though he has had both hips and a heart valve replaced, both knees operated on, and hereditary arthritis in his shoulders and back that has stooped him and restricted his golf swing, he only complains about being tired all the time. With the good test results in front of him, his doctor could only offer, “You’re not young anymore. It’s natural to be tired,” which was not what Dad wanted to hear. He wants to golf and swim like he used to; he wants to stand up straight; he wants to be entertained; and he wants more energy. The first two are not going to happen. The third, we do our best to accommodate by constantly gathering for holidays and birthdays, going out to breakfast with him and Mom or having them over for dinner and cards, and letting him instigate other outings. But the last thing he wants is up to him – he needs to stop sitting in his bedroom chair most of the day. Being active and moving around would give him energy and strength, but he prefers that his children provided him with a reason to get up and about. Although he still drives and admits he needs a hobby, he has no idea what it could be. He has collected all the toy soldiers his display cases can hold. He has no place for all the model trains he used to set up. He plays nine holes of golf with me or my brother once a week, works on jigsaw puzzles at night, and uses his gameroom when someone comes over, but that’s it. Unfortunately, the only friend he has left now lives in Colorado. I’ve suggested Bingo or going to a senior center to meet people, but he’s not interested. Getting old is a female dog.
[Mom? Well, she’ll be 84 this month and can’t sit still. She takes a bunch of pills for several ailments, paints, shops, cleans, tends her plethora of plants, walks, watches “Judge Judy” and the Spurs while crocheting, takes pictures, plays the piano, feeds the birds and deer, sings, reads Regency romances, writes letters to faraway family, and cooks.]