I’m no Cheryl-style desperado when it comes to dispatching zucchini. In fact, I’m kind of pleasantly surprised when they come my way. The squash plants in my garden are despondent and I think they may have given up for the year, so I’m glad to be getting a weekly bag of bitty squash (with flowers!) from the warm side of the mountains in my CSA box.
I love to cook. The rhythm of chopping, the aroma dancing up from the pan, the colors and flavors and textures of food transformed by heat and human ingenuity.
I also love to not cook. The ease of a salad fresh from the garden, a handful-of-this-handful-of-that pesto, a plum I pick from the tree and eat outside.
This flavorful recipe is not-cooking cooking. It takes less than 5 minutes (including the pesto) and can be lunch or a snack for one, or you can make a platter of these pretty little toasts to serve at your garden party. Invite me!
You do need a nice hearty bread, thinly sliced and toasted (you could rub it with olive oil first, sure, but I didn’t). The pesto recipe is mostly parsley, so heap it on there. Top with lots of thinly-sliced radishes for crunch and zing, and anoint your toast generously with flaky salt.If you’re in more of a cooking kind of mood today, allow me instead suggest these “green tartine” radish top toasts. Can’t decide? You could always make both together for a top-to-tail radish tasting.
I don’t think I knew about rhubarb when I was a kid. But I have read about and romanticized the childhood pleasure of being sent outside with a bowl of sugar to dunk the tart whole stalks as an afternoon treat. Did you get to do that?
This compote is like a grown-up version of what I imagine that sweet-crunchy experience to be. I especially like to make it with green rhubarb, which turns a dingy beige color when cooked; leaving it raw instead preserves the gem-green color and lets the occasional pink highlight shine. The flavor is very bright, tart and sweet at once, and if you are feeling adventurous the recipe (from Rustic Fruit Desserts, again) smartly suggests infusing the compote with fresh rosemary or lavender. I always mean to try that, but it’s so good as is that I never have.
Likewise, I’m not too creative about serving this dish. We usually scoop spoonfuls over yogurt, maybe with a little granola (like this one with orange zest and currants) sprinkled on top. What other ideas do you have? I have a big bowl in my fridge.
In recent years I have prioritized raising babies over raising vegetables, and I haven’t spent much time in my garden. It’s every vegetable for itself out there, and several have risen to the occasion by growing, flowering, going to seed, and repeating, providing me with a an annual harvest. The crops that have been most efficient in this regard–aside from the herbs; does anyone need parsley?–are a frilly lettuce, a purple kale, and the arugula. Every spring they pop up and remind me that I had better clear some space if I want anything else to grow this year.
Last week summer came to Seattle and the garden bloomed with a sea of delicate arugula flowers. I left several plants, of course, to ensure next year’s crop. And I picked springtime’s last armload of arugula to take into the kitchen.
This is my favorite arugula salad (although this one, with grilled or roasted potatoes and blue cheese, is a close second). And it’s as simple as can be: greens, grated Parmesan cheese, deeply toasted walnuts, a sweet balsamic vinaigrette. It goes with anything, but it also makes a fine summer dinner all by itself.
Arugula Salad with Parmesan and Toasted Walnuts: Bake a couple of handfuls of walnut halves at 350, stirring often, until deeply toasted (10-12 minutes). Meanwhile, wash and dry a big bunch of arugula and tear the leaves if they’re large. Toss greens with a balsamic vinaigrette (2 parts olive oil to 1 part sweet and syrupy balsamic vinegar plus salt and pepper to taste), then add grated Parmesan cheese and toss again. Top with the walnuts.
Need a last-minute idea for tomorrow afternoon’s Fourth of July picnic? Look no further. After a day that started and ended with chocolate yesterday, we needed a good salad around here today. (I don’t mean that in a we-must-repent-with-salad way. I mean that in a let’s-have-more-cake-today-but-maybe-some-salad-too way.)
This one is a beaut. I think that my love for radishes has been well documented here, and when I saw this Smitten Kitchen recipe I was pretty sure that a radish-less version would be a pale imitation. But in a very unusual turn of events, my fridge is relatively bare (we were out of town for 10 days and I haven’t gone shopping yet). The only crunchy vegetables I could scare up were romaine lettuce, a yellow pepper, a few baby carrots, and a couple of green onions. Into the salad they went.
When I moved to LA in the late ’90s, I was pretty sure of two things. First, that I was going to love graduate school. And second, that I–born and raised in Northern California–would hate living in LA. But life has that funny way of playing tricks on you sometimes, and of course the opposite was true.
About LA: I liked the 72 and sunny, of course, and I liked riding my bike to the beach and the farmers market. I liked breakfasts on Venice Beach and the late-night city scene and did I mention the 72 and sunny? But what I loved most about living in LA was my roommate.
Having a good friend means a lot in a new place, and I lucked out when I connected with my roommate through the school’s matching system. She picked me, she later said, because I said I wanted to find an apartment with a balcony so I could have an herb garden. Ours flourished in the three years we lived together, and I was so sad to say goodbye to her when I left my roommate and that apartment to move to Seattle.
But life has that funny way of playing tricks on you sometimes, and now she lives in Seattle too. We went shopping for seeds and starts this spring for our respective gardens, and when we had lunch last week she brought me a gorgeous bag of newly-picked kale from her back yard. Old friends, tender new greens, both so nice to have around.
It’s a good day when I make two great salads. I couldn’t decide which to tell you about first, so I’m going in chronological order. My brother was passing through town today, and he and I had this one for lunch. I’ll tell you about the dinner one (kale! toasted almonds! the rest of that black garlic!) another day.
Because, no, I don’t cook something new every day. In fact, some days I don’t cook at all. (Who cooks every day? More power to you, I say, but not me.) Here’s how it works around here: when I make something I really like that hasn’t yet been featured on Emmy Cooks, I snap a picture and jot it down on my list. Often I do tell you about it the same day, because it’s on my mind, but sometimes I don’t. And sometimes, like today, it’s fridge cleaning day and I make two worthy new salads and save one for another day. So that’s how I build up my list, which is where I turn for inspiration if it’s not a cooking day, or if I’ve only cooked old favorites that you already know about (I do that a lot), or if I tried something new that wasn’t so great. Because I only tell you about the great stuff.