An Ode to Summer

Truth be told, I’m not one of those summer fanatics. In my mind, it generally means mosquito bites, obscenely stinky subways and generally city-scum-sticking-to-skin-griminess. On the other hand it also means flip flops (the easiest shoe solution ever), tans, my birthday, a certain sexy sweaty sultriness and an overflowing farmers market. Sadly, I haven’t taken as much advantage as I have in past years, as my proximity to the greenmarket has widened considerably (one of the only downsides of moving to an outer borough). So, as Labor Day imminently looms on the horizon, I figured it was time to do some carpe dieming and get some summer in my kitchen.

Now, my goal in going to the market was to get some plants for the house. But I spied with my little eye all sorts of things that simply wouldn’t allow me to focus on the task at hand. So quickly I bought some Swiss Ivy to provide a green cascading curtain down the frame of the porch and moved right along to the tomatoes. Now, Heirloom tomato shopping is a truly overwhelming experience sometimes. So many different colors and shapes and sizes each beckoning you to try their distinct juicy goodness-- how do you choose? I couldn’t. So instead I bought a little pre-arranged basket of mixed tomatoes, let someone else deal with that struggle! I also got some mini bell peppers (about the size of munchkins), some plums and some blueberries. Contentedly, and with rather full arms, I made my way home.

A certain gentleman, knowing my inability to eat wheat and occasional need for something sweet (the rhyme was an accident, I swear), bought me an ice-cream maker for my birthday this year. It’s bright red and I love it. But, given the move and all that I haven’t had a chance to use it in the past month that I’ve had it, so finally yesterday I did. I made Blueberries and Cream Ice Cream and not only was the color stunning but it tasted good too. I loved just standing over the machine watching the arm churn as my purple puddle turned into ice cream. There is something very pleasurable about taking a scant few ingredients and transforming them into something totally different, but still altogether familiar.

The plums and peppers got eaten as is, some just wiped off on the edge of my t-shirt and consumed before they even made it to Queens. The tomatoes got turned into a very basic Heirloom Tomato and Basil Salad. I must admit that making that salad was so much fun. Not that there was any actual cooking involved. But slicing into each tomato was like a discovery. Each was different in color and texture than the one before. Much like the ice cream, this was about taking a flavor that exists in nature and doing very little tinkering just to enhance it.

In fact, a lot of this “cooking” I did was more assembling and observing. I rather enjoy observational cooking, especially on those muggy days of summer when a blasting oven simply does not sound appealing. But for right now, as I anticipate the nostalgia I will feel for the summer when the streets are filled with mucky slush, I will enjoy the simplicity that is summer cooking. And maybe, in the meantime, I’ll sneaky a passing glance or two at some foxy sweaty thing walking by me on the street . . .

Blueberries and Cream Ice Cream
adapted from, Williams-Sonoma Ice Cream
2 cups fresh blueberries (or frozen)
3/4 cup water
1 cup sugar
1 cup heavy cream
1 T fresh lemon juice

1) In a heavy 2-qt saucepan combine blueberries, water and sugar. Bring to a boil over medium-high heat, stirring occasionally to help dissolve the sugar. Reduce the heat to medium and simmer for about 1 minute. Remove from heat and let stand for 30 minutes to steep.
2) Transfer mixture to food processor. Process until smooth, about 1 minute. Strain through a fine-meshed sieve in a bowl. Cover and refrigerate until chilled, at least 3 hours up to 24.
3) Add the cream and lemon juice to the blueberry puree and stir to combine.
4) Pour the mixture into an ice-cream maker and freeze according to the manufacturer’s instructions. Transfer to a freezer-safe container. Cover and freeze until firm at least 3 hours or up to 3 days, before serving.
yields 1 quart

Heirloom Tomato and Basil Salad
1 quart small Heirloom tomatoes, quartered
2 T good extra virgin olive oil
1 t good coarse seal salt
1/2 clove garlic, minced
2 T basil, chiffonade

1) Put oil, garlic and salt in the bottom of your serving dish. Mush everything together with you fingers.
2) Add the tomatoes, a handful at a time. Gently tossing to coat with the oil mixture.
3) Once all tomatoes have been added sprinkle with basil and lightly toss once more.
2 to 4 servings
* feel free to saving the tomato/oil juices at the bottom of the bowl for the base of a salad dressing, it would be a waste to throw away anything that came from those beautiful tomatoes...