"Oh my god," I said, surveying the goods. Inside the bag were long, plump scallions, orange tomatoes, chiles by the dozen, deep green lettuces, perfect little strawberries, and a sheaf of purple basil. Oh, and chard.
Oh hell almighty -- and turnips.
"Thanks, that's very generous of you," I told my friend A., as I took the bag inside.
My friends serve as the drop-off point for their local CSA, and as summer heaved its final sigh they found themselves endowed with extra shares of produce. Seems some of the local subscribers never picked up their bins, so my friends bequeathed an overflowing bag of vegetation to me.
And I was excited. Really excited.
But within moments, terror set in. I'd eat the berries and tomatoes, plus the scallions and the chard. (Easy.) But the chiles? What would I do with 20 Anaheim chiles? And those turnips... say what?
Wasting no time, I grabbed the chard. Manhandled it, really. I chopped it and steamed it, then shmooshed it with leftover mashed potatoes from the fridge. Salt, pepper, nutmeg, flour.
I rolled it into a rope! Cut it into inch-long nubbins! Boiled them till they bobbed!
I was on fire. I was the QUEEN of chard gnocchi. No one could touch my creative genius, my quick-thinking, my technical prowess. Who'd ever even heard of chard gnocchi? I was an inVENtor! A rogue, unparalleled, inimitable iconoclast!
"Boys, lunch!" I bellowed, sweat pooling under my arms, above my brow.
"Wow, those look good," they cooed.
And they were.
But they didn't help me with the turnips.
How do you CSA stalwarts do it?