Pesto Change-O

Okay, I apologize for that title but only out of common courtesy. It fits this evening's meal so perfectly I could not possibly resist. A friend graced me with fresh basil flowers and ripe, sweet heirloom tomatoes today that were grown in a garden somewhere near St. Helena, in the Napa Valley. Those tomatoes were closest to the Fresno vine-ripened tomatoes of my childhood. Mendocino is not capable of ripening tomatoes to that intense sweetness. So, it was another hectic day. No homemade pizza dough, but a Paul Newman pizza in the freezer. I had just enough energy to hand chop a rustic pesto , using the basil flowers and my own luscious, oily, fragrant garlic. I mulled it with a few drops of extra virgin olive oil and spread it on the frozen pizza. The tomatoes were sliced into a bowl with thin slices of red onion and my garden cucumbers.Those cucumbers have a sweet smell almost akin to fresh air after a rain. I hesitate to look at the vines, they are so lush with cucumbers. Next year-pickles!The summer salad was drizzled with the same olive oil and balsamic vinegar and tossed with salt and coarsely ground pepper.The salad sat at room temperature before being consumed-devoured, really, if the truth be known. An improvised but satisfying meal.