We almost always have a big bowl of green apples sitting on the kitchen counter. I tend to buy green apples, and that is the way I think of them, “green apples,”  when I should be thinking “Granny Smith.” Granny Smith apples are good for eating raw and also for baking in pies. Which is about the extent of my apple repertoire.

The smart folks at Saveur magazine have a more novel approach, apples for every dinner course: “An All-Apple Dinner.”
https://www.saveur.com/article/Menu/An-All-Apple-Dinner

Apples are the harbinger of autumn, and of school lunches, and snacks gnawed after school while sitting at the kitchen table. I remember lolling the summers away in a neighbor’s back yard, where blowsy hydrangea blossoms wafted and the grass was covered with fragrant, rotting crabapples. That crabapple tree was a good height for climbing, too, always an added kid bonus. And there were grapevines, with lip-puckering green grapes. Eventually the grapes ripened into sweet purple orbs, which were perfect for spitting.

Apples remind me of brown-bagged lunches, with warm, wax paper-wrapped cheese sandwiches. They were an intrinsic part of the lunchroom smell: apples, old bananas, sour milk, vomit and the green sawdust the janitors used for sweeping up the floors.

Apples make me think of Jo March, scribbling in her cold New England attic, her inky fingers clutching apples as she nibbled away, scrawling her latest lurid tale. Apples bring knowledge and comfort, and at this time of year, and in these perilous times, there are plenty of reasons to eat them often.

There seem to be an equal number of apple dishes we can prepare, as there are varieties of apples: apple sauce, apple butter, apple cake, apple pie, apple tart, apple cider, apple crisp, apple brown betty, caramel apples, apple turnovers, apple pancakes, apples and cheddar cheese… (Here are 80 apple recipes, all in one place: https://www.delish.com/cooking/g1968/easy-apple-recipes/ ) We have discovered that Luke the wonder dog likes green apples. (He also likes iceberg lettuce, fresh asparagus, Roma tomatoes, green peppers and the sound of plastic-wrapped slices of processed American cheese food.)

It’s a little early for the strolls through crunchy leaves, but the autumnal yen of eating crunchy apples can be indulged right now. You need to mask up and travel to your favorite farmers’ markets this weekend, and stock up on freshly picked treasures. Of course, it is always gilding the lily to do anything to an apple except wash it and take a bite. Even pies seem unnecessarily contrived. Does an apple really need brown sugar, cinnamon and dabs of butter to taste better? Of course not! But any iteration of an apple is a good thing.

This Apple Crumble is easy peasy.

6 Golden Delicious or Braeburn apples, peeled, sliced into 1 inch pieces
4 tablespoons sugar
2/3 cup all-purpose flour
1/2 cup brown sugar
2 tablespoon lemon juice
Grated zest of one orange
2/3 cup melted butter
1 teaspoon ground cinnamon
1 teaspoon ground nutmeg
1/4 teaspoon salt
1 cup uncooked oats

Preheat oven to 375°F

Mix apples, sugar, lemon juice and orange zest. In another bowl combine flour, oats, brown sugar, salt, cinnamon and nutmeg. Toss with butter. Combine with apple mixture in a buttered baking dish.

Bake for 30 to 40 minutes. Cool 10 minutes before serving. Serve with a scoop of vanilla ice cream or a nice big wodge of whipped cream. Yumsters. All of the taste of apple pie with no fragile or temperamental pie crust to contend with.

The Farmers’ Almanac has a handy-dandy chart for which apples are best suited to various dishes: sauces, cider, pie and baking. https://www.almanac.com/content/best-apples-baking

“And there never was an apple, in Adam’s opinion, that wasn’t worth the trouble you got into for eating it.”
Neil Gaiman

Some seasons end abruptly. One day it is freezing cold, the next it is warm and sunny. Summer ends next week, and it has been taking its sweet time. We have been having cooler mornings, but sneaky high afternoon temperatures have been loitering around. Like high school cool kids hanging in the smoking courtyard, they are tedious and must be borne.

We threaded through the farmers’ market last Saturday, trying to keep our social distance from the other folks eager to get out of the house. We are all a little weary and shopworn, like some of the produce. The peaches were looking a little older. The tomatoes didn’t hold the same glistening promise they they proffered in June. We have reached the squash maximum tolerance threshold. I couldn’t even find a new basil plant to buy, as our current plant just gave up the ghost on the back porch: too much summer. What on earth are we going to cook for dinner?

In the summer we are always in a rush to get someplace. The easy peasy, no-cook meals are perfect for busy summer people. We are ready to slow down a little now, and start thinking about a less harried, more reflective way to prepare meals. It’s almost time to dig out the slow cooker. But let’s not waste any time, or tomatoes, zucchini or over-ripe peaches as we anticipate the change of season.

Vivian Howard know just what to do with peaches. This recipe makes me feel happy that I am not a restaurant cook, and as a home cook I can smugly wrap peaches in a leisurely fashion. This is new life for old-ish peaches: https://www.vivianhoward.com/gorging-on-life/country-ham-peaches

Did I say we were tired of squash? Nonsense. Because now I know about squash tacos. These are easy, they are novel, and they are something new and wonderful. Plus we use up more squash. https://www.allrecipes.com/recipe/245766/butternut-squash-tacos/

If I see another Caprese salad before 2022 I will surely cause an embarrassing scene. https://www.bonappetit.com/recipe/ultimate-caprese-salad Enough! And now that we are living without a viable basil plant, I should be able to avoid Caprese salad at home. Which isn’t to say that I don’t still love a nice big tomato salad. Just hold off on the bland, fresh mozzarella. Keep it for the pizza Margherita. I am moving on to something tart and tangy. https://www.epicurious.com/recipes/food/views/late-summer-tomatoes-with-fresh-herbs?

Some cooks are turning to TikTok for meal inspiration. https://www.thrillist.com/eat/nation/tiktok-recipes-to-try-out-now

But that crafty Martha has a recipe for squash, zucchini and tomatoes. Of course she would. https://www.marthastewart.com/1549611/baked-fish-summer-squash

Maybe I am just weary of all the numbers, bad news, and monotony, but I cannot wait for autumn to start. I have probably contributed to the weather staying warm by buying a couple of big, yellow chrysanthemum plants for the front porch already. They need daily watering, which fills the basil maintenance void, and look they carefree and cheerful. I’ve ordered daffodil bulbs, and I even though I won’t get to plant them until Thanksgiving, it is nice to have something to look forward to. Spring is just around the corner!

“That old September feeling, left over from school days, of summer passing, vacation nearly done, obligations gathering, books and football in the air … Another fall, another turned page: there was something of jubilee in that annual autumnal beginning, as if last year’s mistakes had been wiped clean by summer.”
― Wallace Stegner,

As I feared, the respite from summer heat that blew through here last week was fleeting. The temperature is back into the 80s in the afternoons, and Luke the wonder dog positively melts during our afternoon walk. He enjoys the ritual of getting in the car, throwing his head out the window, and smelling all the delights our suburban neighborhood can offer a suburban dog. We arrive at the cemetery, where in cooler times we log a brisk half hour of me following him as he determines our path, sniffing fences, bushes, benches, turkey vulture feathers, and yesterday, oddly, a dinner roll. After we have made a couple of circuits he is ready, reluctantly, to get back in the car, to go home, to his kibble. Yesterday, despite the novelty of the abandoned dinner roll, he was nosing toward the car after about 15 minutes. It’s still not fall, and he is rather sad about it.

After our Labor Day weekend, where we celebrated by grilling hot dogs, making potato salad, eating corn on the cob, making yet another batch of Cole slaw, and reveling in the final, end-of-the-season raspberry fool, I am ready to move on to heartier stuff. Isn’t it time to cook some chili? When can we have meatloaf? I am longing for some roasted chicken. How about a nice bowl of steaming spaghetti? I am itching to get back in the kitchen, to turn on the oven, and prepare for winter.

Still. The temperature is not looking autumnal, no matter what my sentimental heart yearns for. If Luke is exhausted and liquified by the heat, a long bout in the kitchen would parboil me, too. So let’s start with a little baking. Something light-weight, and almost seasonal, because it really still is summer, despite myriad pumpkin spice items that have suddenly appeared in grocery stores and coffee shops all over town. I think I can gamble a quick hour of time on some cinnamon sugar pumpkin muffins. The kitchen will smell wonderful, we’ll have muffins with our grilled chicken dinner tonight, and muffins for breakfast in the morning, and if we are feeling generous, Mr. Sanders can bring some to the office to share.

I love the fact that the sugary topping is essential to the appearance of these muffins. Sadly, I never find my toppings approach the deliciousness of the Drake’s Coffee Cakes of my childhood. Remember having those in your lunch bag? Yumsters.

https://www.momontimeout.com/cinnamon-sugar-pumpkin-muffins/

https://plumstreetcollective.com/pumpkin-muffins-with-cinnamon-crumble-topping/

I admire the confidence of our friends at Food52, that theirs are the best ever pumpkin spice muffins. But they are usually right! I also like the helpful hint, buried deep in the recipe, to use a piece of uncooked spaghetti instead of a toothpick when testing for doneness. Genius! Since we haven’t had a cocktail party in a couple of years, due I hope to behaving responsibly during COVID and not to our lack of a social life, there has been little reason to keep toothpicks on hand. And I always have pasta in the pantry. Thanks, Food52! https://food52.com/recipes/84086-best-ever-pumpkin-spice-muffins

I was standing in the check out line at the grocery store earlier this week, eavesdropping on a couple of clerks, who were excitedly sharing their Halloween costume plans. So I am not the only one who is eagerly anticipating the fall. I am even eyeing the candy corn, which is also suddenly ubiquitous.

“But when fall comes, kicking summer out on its treacherous ass as it always does one day sometime after the midpoint of September, it stays awhile like an old friend that you have missed. It settles in the way an old friend will settle into your favorite chair and take out his pipe and light it and then fill the afternoon with stories of places he has been and things he has done since last he saw you.”
― Stephen King

Just as I was thinking that summer was nearly over, we have gotten slammed in a huge panini press of searing, scorching heat. My daughter lives in Florida, and I compare her temperatures almost daily with ours. We are neck-in-neck. It’s going to be 93° this afternoon, here and in Florida. On the whole, I think I’d like an ocean view, at least there I could go swimming.

Instead, here I melt, a soft, oozing cheese, while I puzzle over the mysteries of summer squash. Have you noticed the annual wave of zucchinis and squash taking over the produce section at your grocery store? It reminds me of the moment in Invasion of the Body Snatchers, when the pods are disgorged from trucks and car trunks – the gourds are everywhere. We have been outnumbered, and we must do all we can to protect our species, even in this roasting heat. It’s time to whip out our cookbooks and save humanity.

There are green zucchini and yellow zucchini. There is Costata Romanesco Zucchini, which is striped. There is an eightball zucchini, which is a pale green billiard ball. There are straight neck and goose neck yellow squash. There are yellow, green and a yellow/green combination of pattypan squash. There is a pale green Cousa Squash. There is the hybrid Zephyr squash, which is a combination of yellow crook neck, delicata, and yellow acorn squash. It is no wonder that cucumbers are feeling crowded out of the produce section.

While we are still enthusiastic about eating summer squash this is an excellent dish: https://food52.com/recipes/86125-best-orzo-risotto-recipe-with-summer-squash You can eat it sitting on the back porch, once the sun has set, the temperature has dropped, and it is feeling less like a furnace in your own back yard. Look, there are still a few fireflies, and we can almost converse over the racket of the cicadas! Have another glass of wine!

As long as it is summer, let’s use the grill again. Some nights I can’t face more than a salad. Adding a side of grilled zucchini makes a salad more of an event. https://www.skinnytaste.com/grilled-zucchini/ And then a bowl of icy cubes of fresh watermelon. Deelish.

How about dinner and a movie tonight? Ratatouille and Alice Waters’ genius Ratatouille https://tastyoasis.net/2015/11/11/alice-waters-ratatouille/. After you spend the afternoon slicing and dicing, you can spend the evening in Paris with a couple of charmers.

(Here is the link to Ratatouille the TikTok Musical, which is lots of fun: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=i1aIzbW6Lrs)

Watch out for your neighbor who shares too much. The first couple of zucchini shared over the back fence are nice and neighborly, but it can lead to mysterious midnight deposits of body bags of them left on your front porch. I can handle any amount of home-grown tomatoes, but my taste for zucchini and squash is limited.

As a thank you for your neighbor, try this subtle revenge: zucchini bread: https://www.thekitchn.com/how-to-make-zucchini-bread-157748

Summer is going to wind down. I have seen a scattering of red leaves in the dogwood tree across the street. Our zinnias are going nuts, and the black-eyed Susans are petering out. I will never remember this heat deep in February, when I will be heartily tired of turtlenecks and knee socks. Carpe diem.

“The trouble is, you cannot grow just one zucchini. Minutes after you plant a single seed, hundreds of zucchini will barge out of the ground and sprawl around the garden, menacing the other vegetables. At night, you will be able to hear the ground quake as more and more zucchinis erupt.”
—Dave Barry

I always loved that first day of school:new shoes, new notebooks, new pencils, and a pristine box of still-pointy, aromatic crayons. I always forgot about my crippling locker combination anxiety over the summer. I never thought about the social implications of lunchroom seating during those leisurely hours, either. And as a responsible parental-unit, I loved shopping for school supplies, and shoes, and new lunch boxes. It was only the night before school started that I confronted the horror: the woeful lack of organization in our lives.

While the young ‘uns were setting out their new sneakers for the morning, and frantically paging through a book that should have been read weeks before, I was peering into the fridge and taking stock of our jumble of foodstuffs. What nutritional and tempting combinations could I conjure that would actually be eaten? Once, when Mr. Sanders had been out of town for a very long business trip, we attempted to set a world’s record for eating pizza for every meal, for many days in a row. I understand that that sort of tomfoolery doesn’t set a good example nowadays.

Now everyone has cute, eco-friendly, bento box lunch boxes, Mr. Sanders included. They have cunning little containers for vegetables, for fruits, for proteins. People cut vegetables on Sunday afternoons, and put them in the fridge for easy access on school mornings. They roll up lettuce wraps, dice carrots, prepare tuna salad, bake muffins and stack little cups of applesauce. These people also involve their children in the lunch assembly process. The existential despair I often felt in those dark, early mornings racing to get lunches made before the school bus arrived no longer exists, because people are organized and thorough. And you can be, too.

While we are still leftover-dependent in this house, these folks know what to do about school lunch organization: https://www.therisingspoon.com/2020/07/healthy-make-ahead-lunches-back-to-school-work.html

A handy guide to Sunday night preps: https://www.realmomnutrition.com/lunch-packing-stations/

And at Food52, the ever-clever Amanda always has some really fab lunch ideas. https://www.food52.com/blog/4436_the_return_of_amandas_kids_lunch

This year, another COVID-19 year, there are still huge challenges for the school-aged. This year we will be sending everyone off with masks and social distancing requirements. Will the children eat their lunches in a cafeteria or from social distances at their desks? Maybe there will be picnic tables outside, while the weather is still nice? Will the children bring lunches from home, or eat school-provided meals? Is this the end of the bologna sandwich?

And now, with a modest little drumroll, is the Spy Test Kitchen lunch list, which I haul out, shamelessly, every fall. Feel free to make your own spreadsheet, or PowerPoint deck so you never have another moment of lunch ennui. The Test Kitchen came up with this flexible list of ingredients for packing school lunches a few years ago. It is just as timely today:

Luncheon Variations

Column A
Let’s start with bread:
Ciabatta bread
Rye bread
Whole grain breads
Hard rolls
Portuguese rolls
French baguette
Italian bread
Brioche
Flour tortillas
Croissants
Bagels
Challah bread
Crostini
Cornbread
Naan bread
Focaccia bread
Pita bread
If storing overnight, layer bread with lettuce first, then the spreads, to keep sandwich from getting soggy.

Column B
Next, the spread:
Mayo
Sriracha
Ketchup
Dijon mustard
Honey mustard
Italian dressing
Russian dressing
Cranberry sauce
Pesto sauce
Hummus
Tapenade
Sour cream
Chutney
Butter
Hot sauce
Salsa
Salsa verde

Column C
Cheeses:
Swiss cheese
American cheese
Mozzarella
Blue cheese
Cream cheese
Havarti cheese
Ricotta cheese
Cheddar cheese
Provolone cheese
Brie cheese
Cottage cheese
Goat cheese

Column D
The main ingredient:
Meatloaf
Turkey
Chicken
Corned beef
Bacon
Crumbled hard-boiled eggs
Scrambled eggs
Corned beef
Salami
Italian sausage
Ham
Roast beef
Egg salad
Tuna salad
Ham salad
Crab salad
Chicken salad
Turkey salad
Lobster salad
Tofu

Column E
The decorative (and tasty) elements:
Tomatoes
Lettuce
Basil
Onion
Avocado
Cucumber
Cilantro
Shredded carrots
Jalapeños
Cole slaw
Sliced apples
Sliced red peppers
Arugula
Sprouts
Radicchio
Watercress
Sliced pears
Apricots
Pickles
Spinach
Artichoke hearts
Grapes
Strawberries
Figs

Column F
Finger foods:
Cherries
Carrots
Strawberries
Green Beans
Broccoli
Celery
Edemame
Granola
Rice cakes
Apples
Bananas
Oranges
Melon balls
Raisins
Broccoli
Blueberries

“ ‘We could take our lunch,’ said Katherine.‘What kind of sandwiches?’ said Mark. ‘Jam,’ said Martha thoughtfully, ‘and peanut-butter-and-banana, and cream-cheese-and-honey, and date-and-nut, and prune-and-marshmallow…’”

-Edward Eager

The Spy Test Kitchen staff are going on the road for a few days, so we are risking boring you by rerunning an old column. Thanks for your patience! Stay safe!

It’s time to claim your fair share of the back seat. Clamber in, and be ready for quality family time. You are going to get along with your brother and no, you cannot roll the window down again. It is too stinking hot. We will get there when we get there, and not a moment sooner. Did you go to the bathroom? Do you have a book from your summer reading list? Batteries charged? Let’s go!

When I was a child we seemed to spend every summer driving up and down the eastern seaboard visiting Civil War battlefields. My father was an elementary school teacher, and had the summers off, and we were his malleable minds. Every moment was a teaching opportunity. We were grist for his mill. The best time he has was spent at the dining room table, unfurling the AAA map, plotting our routes, and showing us everything that we would be seeing. He would have loved Google Maps!

My mother was a complete bluestocking. Everything one needs to know could be learned from reading a book. Somewhere she had developed a romantic notion that picnic lunches were homemade fried chicken, hard boiled eggs and brownies, with Dixie cups of lemonade from the Skotch Kooler to wash it all down. The lunch was best when packed in shoe boxes, everything wrapped in crinkly, unmanageable waxed paper. The March girls must have had a fried chicken picnic luncheon with the Lawrence boy once, passing little paper twists of salt and pepper for the eggs. I haven’t been able to find the literary precedent. But that is what my mother thought was a good meal for a family vacation. But when you were driving to Gettysburg from Connecticut, the brownie was gone before you reached New Jersey. The waxed paper was probably tasting delicious along about Princeton. We couldn’t pull off the interstate into a handy dandy McDonald’s then. The closest we came to fast food was an elegant evening meal at a Howard Johnson’s. Ah. Peppermint stick ice cream. Divine.

My own children fared a little better. They had McDonald’s. And an obsessive compulsive mother who loved all those cute little carcinogenic plastic boxes for Cheerios, Capri Sun juice pouches, yogurt in tubes, string cheese sticks, apples, oranges and grapes. I must have been like Charlie Brown’s friend Pigpen, with a trail of plastic recyclables following us at all times.

Things have gotten better here in the twenty-first century. We now have adorable containers that won’t kill us – I am a big fan of stainless Bento boxes. Mom is laughing at me, for using nice, safe brown, waxed-paper bags. And the snack foods are better, and easier to assemble. I won’t be sweating away in an un-air conditioned kitchen, frying up a batch of homemade fried chicken the night before our trip, and I reluctantly toss those shoe boxes into the recycling bin instead of creatively repurposing them as adorable little lunch boxes. I still call shotgun, though.

To pack up in cunning containers:
Popcorn – pop your own for heaven’s sake
Protein bars – but I won’t tell if you toss in a couple of Snickers bars
Bananas – be sure to get rid of the peels ASAP! Nothing worse than old banana smell in your car!
Carrots – excellent nutrition, easy to hurl at your brother
Grapes – ditto
Peanut butter crackers – Ritz and Peter Pan, simplicity itself
Pistachios – get the red ones and see whose fingers get the most disgusting
Trail mix – you can do this yourself, too
https://food52.com/blog/22624-how-to-make-a-trail-mix
Pretzels
Cheerios – tried and true!
Slim Jims – you must have a disgusting boy in that car
Cheetos – because you are on vacation
Cookies – because you know you want some yourself, and this is the best recipe ever!
https://food52.com/recipes/78188-chewy-chocolate-chip-cookies
Reusable, leakproof water bottles – PBA free, of course

Civil War battlefield alternatives:
https://www.roadsideamerica.com/story/8543

https://www.ourstate.com/local-landmark-the-worlds-largest-frying-pan/

https://www.littlethings.com/weird-roadside-attractions-america/6

“I have found out that there ain’t no surer way to find out whether you like people or hate them than to travel with them.”
― Mark Twain

Everything tastes better when it is cooked over a campfire. It is a truth universally acknowledged. That’s why Dinty Moore Beef Stew tastes like nectar after a long hike. That’s why those extra crispy bits of charred marshmallow are savory and delectable, the stuff of summer memories. There is more to cooking over a campfire than s’mores, but they are the beginning. There is panoply of meals that can be prepared over an open flame – it is your decision whether to take them on the camping trail, or stay in your own back yard.

Preparing your own food as a child is thrilling. It’s nighttime, and you are in the backyard. You’re allowed to play with fire. You’re encouraged to jab with sharp sticks or sharper skewers. You’re in charge. It is the beginning of your journey toward epicurean independence, and the stakes start low – with marshmallows.

There are distinct stages of marshmallow appreciation. It might take all summer for all the lessons to add up; acquiring knowledge and experience can be slow and measured. First: gobble up some raw marshmallows, right out of the bag. They are cold and powdery, with a delightful give as you bite, leaving tooth marks in the plump, yielding sponginess. After skewering a marshmallow, or two, or three, you learn how to delicately twirl and rotate the marshmallow a few inches above the open flame, lightly browning the exterior. You are perfecting your technique while you watch the marshmallows cooking in the hot gasses emitted by the dancing flames. You are learning science and compromise, because, undoubtedly, you are sharing this fire with a sibling. Diplomacy becomes important – which color flame produces the best marshmallow, and where is it in the campfire? Is it possible to share? Compromise or dominate?

After settling back on your camp stool, it is time for another taste test. Hmmmm. There is now a caramelized crisp surface, yielding a warm, runny center. With trial and error you are becoming a judicious connoisseur. Next, smug and secure with your new skill set, throwing caution to the winds in your sugar rush, you allow the marshmallows to catch fire, watching the blue flame engulf the surface: crisping, caramelizing, scorching, blackening, and incinerating before you blow it out. (Remember those lava-lamp marshmallows you weren’t fast enough to salvage? How they bowed and sagged and dripped off the skewer into the grass?) Delicately nibbling the remnants of the next batch, you have discovered that there can be too much of a muchness, and some restraint is necessary in life, and in marshmallows. This is a valuable cooking lesson.

A few how tos: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/S%27more

Classic S’mores: https://www.foodnetwork.com/recipes/food-network-kitchen/classic-smores-recipe-2108470

Sadly, there are s’mores kits available for the folks who require such things. They are expensive and fussy. The Spy has higher expectations. Remain true to the classic s’mores: https://food52.com/shop/products/2069-diy-s-mores-kit-set-of-2?

Although this sounds intriguing:
https://www.delish.com/cooking/a22550134/smores-grilled-cheese-recipe/

And soon it will be time to advance to hot dogs.

“The echoes of beauty you’ve seen transpire,
Resound through dying coals of a campfire.”
-Ernest Hemingway

The Fourth of July is just around the corner. I am getting ready to start assembling our annual red, white and blue festive and oh, so patriotic, cake. I slather a sheet cake with a thick foundation of whipped cream, pile on stripes of strawberry slices, and fill a square field with blueberries. It is always messy, but invariably it is deelish, so it makes up for heating up the kitchen for an hour while baking it. I’ll do that baking early Sunday morning, when it is still relatively cool.

While the cake is baking, I will start preparing a couple of sheet trays of vegetables to roast under the broiler, to make a vat o’salsa to get us through the holiday weekend. If I am going to be in a hot kitchen, I am going to prepare a significant amount of food that will last us a few days. A sheet cake will be desserts for the next week, and so far, last weekend’s salsa saw us through one cocktail hour, one taco dinner, one grilled chicken dinner, one scrambled egg breakfast, and one chips and salsa lunch. I like its versatility. And I enjoy the cheap pyromaniacal thrills I get in roasting the vegetables.

Sure, you can roast vegetables on the grill. It is fast, and creates a more uniform char than roasting under the broiler. But it is not as thrilling. How often do you get to blow out a blackened home-grown tomato that is engulfed in a little blue flame? Tiny, domestic fireworks, that are completely legal. Perhaps I do need to get out of the house a little more.

I did not realize until I had made this particular salsa that Mr. Sanders has never been a big salsa fan. Usually I made it in the summer for small cocktail parties – but we haven’t had any of those lately. I had been bringing home store-bought deli containers of pre-fab salsas. Luckily, this salsa he gobbled up, because the vegetables were sweetened by the roasting process, and we were using homegrown tomatoes. It’s hard to go wrong with fresh, local produce.

The corn, tomatoes, jalapeños and onions (both Vidalia and green onions in my adaptation) were scorched and sweetened by the gas broiler flame for about ten minutes (five or six minutes for each side). I added a goodly amount of garlic and a handful of fresh cilantro, whirred it all up in the food processor. Yumsters. There is summer, in a mouthful of sweet, hot goodness. I imagine you can recreate this all year ’round, but we have a windowsill-full of ripe tomatoes, and I don’t intend to waste a single one. Bring on the chips!

You can easily adapt the proportions to your own needs. It all depends on your available storage. I took the measurements as mere guidelines.

Roasted Corn and Tomato Salsa – adapted from The New York Times recipe by Martha Rose Shulman.

1 ½ pounds ripe tomatoes
1 or 2 jalapeños (halved, and remove seeds and stems)
1 ear of corn
½ small white onion
4 garlic cloves, peeled
Salt to taste
1 ½ teaspoons cider vinegar
⅓ to ½ cup chopped cilantro
2 chopped green onions, for decoration

You will need a couple of baking sheets, covered in aluminum foil. I sprinkled them with a little oil, so the vegetables wouldn’t stick.

Preheat broiler and set rack 4 inches below.

Place tomatoes and jalapeños on one of the baking sheets and set under broiler, about 4 inches from heat. Broil for about 6 minutes, until skins are charred and blackened in spots. Using tongs, flip over tomatoes and jalapeños and continue to broil for another 5 or 6 minutes. Put tomatoes and jalapeños, along with any juices in the pan, into a bowl and cool.

Put the corn on baking sheet and set under the broiler. Broil 2 to 4 minutes. Corn should be nicely browned on one side. Roll over and broil again for 2 minutes Remove from heat, cool, then cut kernels from cob and set aside.

Turn heat down to 425°F. Break up Vidalia onions into rings and place on baking sheet in a single layer. Add garlic. Roast, stirring every 5 minutes, until onions have softened and are browned and charred on edges and garlic is soft and browned in spots, about 15 minutes.

Once all the vegetables have cooled, slide the charred skins off the tomatoes and discard. Keeping all the juice, put the roasted veggies into a blender or food processor. Add cilantro, vinegar and salt. Whirr it up for a couple of seconds, until you arrive at your preferred chunk size. You might want to thin it with a little water, but we found ours was juicy enough. Add chopped green onions. Test with a nice, crisp, salty corn chip. Repeat. Yumsters.

https://cooking.nytimes.com/recipes/1016680-roasted-corn-and-tomato-salsa

Here are some variations:
Perfect Grilled Corn Salsa:
https://minimalistbaker.com/perfect-grilled-corn-salsa/

Roasted Corn Salsa:
https://spicysouthernkitchen.com/roasted-corn-salsa/

If you want to roast your corn over an open flame, here is the recipe for you!
Fire Roasted Corn and Tomato Salsa:
https://www.cookingchanneltv.com/recipes/fire-roasted-corn-and-tomato-salsa-3644953

Welcome summer. We are ready for you!

“It’s difficult to think anything but pleasant thoughts while eating a homegrown tomato.”
– Lewis Grizzard

The past couple of days of early summer have been sunny, bright and breezy. It has been a pleasure to walk with Luke the wonder dog. The heat of the afternoons had slowed down his pace, but instead of darting from shadow to shadow, looking for relief from the sun these days, we have been lengthening our steps and enjoying ourselves. The self care is suddenly more enjoyable and less dutiful; it is an early summer pleasure.

Nothing perfectly symbolizes summer like a watermelon. The best ones are cool and sweet, dripping with juices, seeds, and dreams of summer vacations. Whoever came upon the devilish idea of creating seedless watermelons was never a child. I still cling to the memories of sitting on the back porch steps, spitting seeds back at my brother, who had much better aim. Those are high quality memories of an un-air-conditioned house, where we were outside, waiting for the fireflies start twinkling on and off near the forsythia bushes. It was summer, and we were amusing each other.

Now we are gearing up for the Fourth of July. There are so many summer treats we are going to rediscover. It’s my time of the year to abandon the stove, and stake out a shady corner on the back porch, while Mr. Sanders approaches the podium, and fires up the grill. Summer is time for steaks, burgers, brats, hot dogs, Italian sausage, ears of corn, and watermelon.

I feel like such a johnny-come-lately with my recent discovery of Chef Matthew Raiford. I guess I haven’t been paying enough attention. He is, after all, a James Beard Best Chef finalist. https://www.chefarmermatthew.com And he is all over Food52 and other food publications of note as well as podcasts such as Splendid Table and Jupiter’s Almanac. He is a sixth-generation farmer of Gilliard Farms in Coastal Georgia. The farm was established in 1874, is organic, and has never used chemicals. “I always loved the food that I came from. I just loved it. Growing up, I had my Nana, my great-grandmother, my dad — all these people cooking around me.” His enthusiasm for food is palpable. I wish I could eat one of his Rattlesnake Watermelons. (Look for his video of grilling watermelon on his Instagram feed if you want some divine inspiration: https://www.instagram.com/p/CQRPvg9gkUs/)

It never occurred to me that watermelon could be grilled, let alone paired with tomatoes. What have I been thinking? It is summer, and the watermelons and tomatoes are ripe. At least I have the homegrown tomatoes and basil to contribute to the recipe, along with my basic, farm stand watermelon. It’s not fancy, just delicious. Let the summer games begin!

Matthew Raiford’s Watermelon Steak Salad with Heirloom Tomatoes and Sangria Vinaigrette: https://food52.com/recipes/85796-watermelon-steak-salad-recipe

If you don’t want to grill your watermelon, here is another recipe for tomato and watermelon salad: https://www.southernliving.com/recipes/marinated-watermelon-tomato-salad

Perhaps you would like to entertain yourself with an adult beverage? Allow me to suggest a Watermelon Margarita. Completely enjoyable and deelish: https://www.acouplecooks.com/watermelon-margarita/

If you have a rainy day, and must stay inside, at least you can use your time productively, and make some pickled watermelon rind: https://www.epicurious.com/recipes/food/views/pickled-watermelon-rind-51242090

“But in a jar put up by Felicity,
The summer which maybe never was
Has been captured and preserved.
And when we unscrew the lid
And slice off a piece
And let it linger on our tongue:
Unicorns become possible again.”
-John Tobias

This will answer any questions you might have about the care and feeding of watermelons: https://www.watermelon.org