Grilled Cheese Sammich

I get cravings. I don't act on all of them. If I did, I'd be as big as our house. However, I hallucinated something last night on my way to work. It just wouldn't go away. So here's what I did to make it reality (Orange Wino, I thought of you while I was making this):

I bought a large, squarish ciabbatta bread from a grocery store. I'd seen them the day before, and filed away the fact that they are flat, square, and might be interesting to use for some kind of large hero-type sandwich.

I bought fresh mozzarella cheese balls. From a different store.

The basil in our herb garden is now at the stage where it is 'use at will'. I was getting high on the intoxicating fragrance of it yesterday when I was using it to make an herbed olive oil paste to marinate vegetables for grilling. Why can't basil be accorded the same security privileges and importance as pot? I tell you, if I saw someone/something raiding my basil patch or doing anything to harm it, I would shoot. Well, maybe it's a good thing I don't own a gun. And maybe it's a good thing the FBI isn't as interested in basil. I don't have to rig up camouflage netting over it either. Or have guard dogs. Or whatever marijuana growers do.

ANYWAY, I already had gorgeous basil at home, as well as tomatoes. Store-bought, but hey, they are getting better these days. It's too early to get local, home-grown ones yet here.

I scrubbed the horrid black crud off the grill left from the night before (see how motivated I can get when I want to?), and lit it. I split the ciabbatta horizontally and grilled that until it was toasted. Then I made a garlic-herb olive oil to smear on the inside of the bread halves. Fresh basil, oregano, chives and thyme and a clove of garlic got whirled in a food processor with olive oil until it was this lovely green paste. I layered on the mozzarella balls, slices of tomato, more basil leaves, salt and fresh ground black pepper, and closed up the whole thing. I wrapped it in foil and grilled it a few minutes more on each side, to melt the cheese and toast the outside.

I carried my treasure back inside the house, unwrapped it and sliced off a hunk with my handy-dandy Dexter-Russell Sofgrip serrated bread knife. Bliss.

I am not a slave to my stomach *wipes olive oil and mozzarella string from corner of mouth*.

Last night we made huge green salads out of baby greens, sliced grilled chicken breasts, grilled peach halves, toasted almonds and dried cherries. I made a vinaigrette using some homemade black raspberry vinegar. It's mid-July, and this is perfect summertime food. Things have hardly begun here as far as local fruit and veggies. Let the chow-down begin.

What have we been doing besides eating (and working)? Last Sunday we went to the Reinert family reunion in Frankenmuth. Not too big a crowd, but most of the familiar faces were there. The Chicago area contingent was there, and it was nice to talk to Gail, the only other Med Tech in the family. We had a brunch instead of a dinner, for a change of pace. There were lots of breakfast foods there, and a few non-breakfast items (sausage and sauerkraut, for one...hey, that can be good at 1030 am, too). I made a basket of scones. I didn't feel like messing with yeast dough or anything more complicated.

Why the Sunday morning get-together? Heritage Park in Frankenmuth had been the site of a large WWII re-enactment on Saturday. We couldn't get our usual picnic pavilion that day. Actually it was still going on Sunday, but with greatly reduced numbers of people. We happened to be on the edge of the 'German' encampment. A couple had their tent set up nearby, and the man was dressed in full SS officer uniform. How he kept that thing on all day, I have no idea, because it was pushing 90F. It looked like wool, close up. I think he rather enjoyed strutting around in it, high black boots and all. The woman 'officer' with him had a frightening amount of knowledge about the tripod-mounted machine gun in front of their tent. We went over and had a nice chat with them, asking about the other vintage paraphernalia they had on display. The swastika-adorned battle flag was discreetly hung inside the tent. We agreed that that symbol can (and has, in their experience) been offensive to some people, but that certain ugly parts of history should not be erased or forgotten.

It was a bit like being on the set of an Indiana Jones movie. We took a walk along the river after breakfast and strolled past the camps of the 'Hitlerjugend', the 'British', the lone Africa Corp representative, and of course the Americans. Brown jeeps, guns, canvas tents, and men in authentic-looking uniforms were everywhere. Ultimately it was really grown-up boys playing war. The bodies that filled out those uniforms were not those of true soldiers, and the re-enactment of the Hedgerow Battle was an odd mix of earnest acting and high-spirited loud fun. Still, it was interesting to watch (if a little deafening), and to talk to these people.

On a completely unrelated note, this girl probably needs to wear a dress more often. Sunday morning I pulled one out of the closet I hadn't worn in 5 years. I got compliments all day, from the pastor at church, to men playing war, to women in a restaurant bathroom. Coincidentally, it's a bit of a 1940's look.

We checked on the grandparents. No worse, no better than usual. Grandma Kueffner was sleeping in her wheelchair when we got to her room. Zuckers seemed glad to see us, but we kept the visit short, since they were about to get their dinner ready. The air conditioners were not turned on and the front door was open to the sun and heat, and when we suggested they turn them on, Grandma got cranky, and Grandpa got all indecisive. You can lead a horse to water...

Thus the two beers at Frankenmuth Brewery afterward. I must sound like an alcoholic, but sometimes it's the only way we can unwind after visiting them. All in all, it was a fun day of visiting family, playing cards, and playing tourist in town.