Cathy's pantry

One day last week, Karis and I walked to meet our new neighbor Cathy. She and her husband live in the most adorable little two bedroom house right along the Trout River. Wooden-framed, I believe, it's a quaint bungalow, with a vibe like that of a fisherman's cottage. She gave me the tour which included a stop in her old-fashioned kitchen housing an industrial stove that she only turns on "when cooking more than one dinner at once." We took a peek in her pantry, stocked to the gills with freshly canned pepper jellies, pepper slaw, and pickled peppers. I drooled. And then I promptly asked her to teach me how to can. She politely obliged to my impulsive and forward request.

To top things off, she walked us around to the pepper garden on the side of their house. Rows and rows of different varieties of peppers glistening in the sun and dripping with water from the above ground sprinkler system they painstakingly installed to care for their beloved plants. Unafraid to get her hands dirty, she picked a bunch of peppers from different plants for me to take home, describing the names and uses for each variety. I can't remember much of the details that she shared, but I remember thinking I like Cathy. She's a salt of the earth type of woman. Honest and straightforward, sharing with me that the Peter peppers are aptly named because they look like male genitalia. Really honest. I like that.

"This is our little slice of heaven," she bragged of her home, standing by the pool in the morning breeze. When she stopped by my home a little later that day to bring by a full roast beef dinner (cooked in the aforementioned stove) and a jar of Peter pepper jelly and pickled peppers, I felt as if she'd shared a little bit of heaven with this hungry family.

(Photo: Toast with cream cheese topped with Peter pepper jelly from Cathy's pantry. A savory snack or even breakfast, if you can handle a little heat in the morning).