I don’t lose things and I rarely break things. Ever since I was a kid, I’ve taken really good care of my stuff. That’s why when I do get distracted and ruin something, sort of rocks my world and sends me racing to repair or replace the damaged object.

A couple of days ago, I was making dinner while talking to my mom on the phone and inadvertently turned on the wrong burner. Sadly, it was the burner upon which my beloved Umbra teakettle was sitting, totally empty. I didn’t realize my mistake until I smelled something funky. I immediately pulled the kettle off the burner and thought I had managed to save it before any permanent damage.

However, when I went to fill the kettle this morning, I noticed that the plastic lid was melted beyond repair. I stood there for a few seconds, sink running, blinking in surprise at my ruined kettle. Then I put it on the floor next to the trash can and altered my coffee plan.

Because I can’t live without the ability to boil water (and I don’t have the counterspace for an electric kettle) I made Scott run out to Marshall’s with me tonight before we met friends for dinner. The kettle pickings were slim, but happily they had a nice looking anodized one (oddly, it carries the Palm Restaurant brand, who knew that famous steakhouses also make teakettles?!) that I think was actually made by Anolon and wasn’t particularly expensive.

Whatever the real brand, it seems well-made, doesn’t have to be emptied after every use and has no plastic parts, which means that at least there’s no portion of it that I can melt. It’s not quite as cool or sleek as my old kettle, but apparently, I’ve shown that I can’t have nice things if they’re destined to live on my stovetop.

And with that, balance has been returned to my kitchen eco-system.

Wow. What happened to July? I am positively gobsmacked by the speed with which time is passing. I realize I should be used to it now, life has been accelerating ever since I graduated from college, but I still can’t help but be startled by it.

What’s new? Well, I was on TV again last week, this time on the NBC 10 Show doing a canning demo. Sadly, it does not appear to be available on their website, so there’s no clip to share. In its place, I do have a fresh episode of Fork You to offer. Not quite as thrilling for my parents, but it’s something!

I’ve been neglecting my garden something awful lately. It’s just so infested with mosquitoes that I can’t spend more than ten minutes down there without being absolutely destroyed by those little critters. When I was a kid, I was allergic to mosquitoes, each bite site would swell up so that it looked like I had a tennis ball tucked under my skin. While I don’t react like that anymore, too many bites still make me run a slightly elevated temperature and make me feel crappy for at least an hour afterwards.

Additionally, something has devastated my cucumbers and zucchini plants, so the whole project has lost a lot of its joy. As much as I wanted the garden, I’m not sure I can handle having a garden plot a mile and a half away from home next year (particularly one that is so infested by mosquitoes). I’m thinking about ripping all the veggies out and just planting herbs. At least that would be something (and mosquitoes aren’t fans of rosemary and lavender).

My garden has been in the ground for just about a month now, and it’s really starting to catch up with the other plots around me. I’ve got one little zucchini and bunches of flowers that make me hopeful for many more. The cucumbers are taking over and are blooming with such vigor that I’m feeling so grateful that I planted the pickling kind. The tomatoes are starting to set and my basil continues to put out so many fragrant leaves. I am delighted.

Several months ago, some of our friends started a new project called Chefame (pronounced chef-a-me, don’t be like me and pronounce it chef-fame for months like I did. I felt a little silly when I finally figured it out). The gist of the project is that they gather up amateur cooks with skills (or real chefs on their nights off), take over a restaurant kitchen on a quiet evening and throw a big, old dinner party. It’s sort of like the supper clubs that have been sweeping New York, but with a unique Philly twist.

Scott and I went for the first time on Monday evening (it was the third Chefame). The event was held upstairs at the Dark Horse on Headhouse Square. We had no idea what to expect when we arrived, but happily, my favorite wine expert was there, with his wife and some friends of theirs, so we sat with them at a long table in the corner by the window. Over the course of three hours, we ate seven courses and talked about everything from cameras (David and I were both sporting our Nikons) to reality TV to whether or not I should cook for a Chefame at some point in the future (all signs point to probably).

The food ranged from pretty darn good to seriously amazing and I recommend that you Philly folks go to one of these if you have a chance. They’re fairly inexpensive for large meals, this one was just $35 for those seven courses. Drinks are not included, but the bar offered a handful of very reasonable booze deals.

Yesterday morning, I got up an hour and fifteen minutes earlier than normal. As I showered, I wasn’t feeling nervous exactly. I was more focused on going over lists in my head of things I needed to bring with me and the points I was hoping to make. I started to freak out when I couldn’t get my left contact lens to settle happily on my eyeball, but Scott (playing the role of most helpful partner ever) ran to CVS to get me some eye drops while I waited for the car. We got to the studio with all props accounted for and time to spare (during which I got my contacts situated).

The actual segment was really, really fun. I had a great time chatting with Michelle Buckman and I could have talked so much longer about canning (it felt like it was over in a flash).

For those of you who missed it yesterday or who don’t live in Philly, here’s the link to where you can watch it online. My name is outrageously misspelled, but everything else about it is terrific.

On my way home from work each afternoon, it is my habit to enter my building through the side door. You get to this door by walking down an alley that dead-ends into the building. In addition to serving William Penn House, this alley also serves as service entrance for a couple of restaurants and the local wine and spirits shop. It’s a strange half block, devoid of people unless they have some specific business there and often cluttered with a few random objects (it is also where some of the cooks and dishwashers from the restaurants take their breaks). Every day, I look at that red door, next to those blue and white swatches and think that it would make an interesting picture. Today, I just happened to have my camera with me.

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In other news, Food in Jars has been getting some nice attention recently. My canning classes and I were featured in Daily Candy last week. And tomorrow morning, I’m going to be appearing on Fox29 at 8:40 am, talking about home canning. If you’re in the Philadelphia area and will be around a television tomorrow morning, please tune in. Hopefully it will be available online and I’ll be posting it if it is!

In the last seven years of living in my apartment (seven years! where did the time go?) one of my primary complaints has been the lack of outdoor space. I’ve longed to be able to have a little patch of earth adjacent to my home, in which I could grow a few things and in which I could experience the weather without having to shower and dress.

This summer, I’ve satisfied part of my longing. Thanks to a quirk of life that put me in the right place, at the right time, talking to the right person, I’ve found myself with a 4 x 8 community garden plot for the low, low price of $25 a year. It’s in no way adjacent to my living space, it’s actually a good mile and a half away from home, and yet I am still totally delighted by it. I’ve planted tomatoes, herbs, cucumbers and a variety of squashes and I’m hoping to harvest something delicious very soon. It’s a quick bike ride down to the plot and I visit it several times a week (we’ve had a really rainy June here in Philly, so I haven’t had to water all that much).

Most mornings, Scott and I leave for work together. We’ve developed a nice little rhythm, in which we ride the elevator down, walk about the back door and then kiss good-bye at the corner of 19th and Ludlow. This morning was no different, although we overslept (I turned my alarm off instead of hitting snooze) and so were running a bit later than normal.

We kissed and parted, Scott heading north to the Comcast building, while I crossed 19th Street and continued down Ludlow. As I was stepping onto the curb on the other side of the street, I noticed that my path was going to intersect that of an older man. I slowed to let him pass, and as I did, he said, “I saw all that love. It’s a good thing.”

He said this while walking, a big, happy smile on his face. By the time I could rattle my brain into speech mode, he was gone. I walked to work, grinning myself, marveling at how a stranger’s comment could turn our mundane, routine little kiss into something joyful and special.

If you’ve been meaning to come out to a filming of Fork You Live for a while, this Saturday is the time to do it. After this one, Fork You won’t be making another appearance at Foster’s until next November (although I’ll be there throughout the summer, teaching canning classes – there are still spots in the the pickles, peaches and tomatoes classes). We’re taking the next few months off because Scott’s working on a project, I’m busy canning and we’re getting married on September 26th.

We’ll be making appetizer-y food this time around, including a savory mushroom pate, a flatbread with asparaugs and caramelized onions and summer-y bruschetta.