When my parents leave the neighborhood for a few days, I am typically the one charged with watering their front planters, their various herbs and tomatoes, their window boxes, the backyard. It all takes time but little do they know it is like my favorite chore ever. Much like writing, it is solitary and relaxing and I get to feel like I am taking care of something while also nourishing a small part of myself. The thought of ten whole days, just me and the watering, sounded brilliant. I did it for three and it was damn near blissful, but then weather spun the chore wheel and her name landed on the job, and when you don't have to stand there anymore with a hose listening to the occasional plane fly by over the chorus of Brooklyn balcony chimes, your next best bet is to head inside for a snoop around the kitchen. Because maybe there's something to make.

Truly undeserving of a blog post because simple simple simple, everyone can make it, all you need to do is storm your parents' kitchen one early morning to see what they've left behind for you to cut and play with, once they've driven away to the Buffalo Colony for yet another July 4th weekend in the mountains.

Anyone who has been to their house knows they have a refrigerator famous for housing the craziest number of jam jars, ramekins, foil-wrapped plates, saran-wrapped bowls, too many condiments, batteries, and nothing to drink but seltzer that you ever did see, and when I came by this morning to prepare a little July 4th something, I almost fell over when I saw the contents of the fridge.

I came away with a lemon, some shredded parmesan, a can of chickpeas, their olive oil, their sea salt. Wah wah, and yet! Sometimes I like a trouble-free, plain jane recipe. It's not very Fourth-y, but so be it. Maybe tonight I'll surprise myself with an ear of corn and a barbecued burger, but for right now, while the rain does my job, it'll do.

Ingredients:

1 can of chickpeas
1 tbsp olive oil
Quarter of a lemon
A sprinkling of shredded parmesan
A pinch of salt

Method:

Combine and refrigerate. Eat on its own, or wrapped in a big piece of lettuce. Hell, serve it at your July 4th party.

I should probably take those cushions in.