While we all have access to tomatoes in even the depths of winter, the words we use to describe them all sound like other names for disappointment — mealy, bland and sad. But describe an encounter with the best summertime tomatoes, and suddenly it sounds as if you’re reliving some steamy affair — luscious, sumptuous and messy.
Kohlrabi, sweet and hot peppers, broccoli, kale, spinach, cucumbers, summer squash (including tatume, eight ball, light and dark green zucchini, light and dark yellow zucchini), radishes (red, white and striped), skinny green beans, wax beans, beets, turnips and assorted onions.
Delightful. Delicious. Subtle. These are just a few of the words staffers used to describe this terrific twist on a baklava. One doesn’t tend to think of baklava in a savory way. When I think of baklava, I think of ground walnuts or pistachios between crispy layers of phyllo dough that’s doused with a honey syrup.
If there were a signature summer dish of my childhood, it was corn on the cob. Sweet, tender and juicy. Is there anything better? My father loved it. Still does, though he doesn't eat a half-dozen ears in a sitting as he once did.
Lunch on the town is all long skirts, tall drinks and sunny salads. What's better than old friends and new outfits? We lunched, we lounged, we lingered. Sans coffee, we listed toward the car, which perversely had left.
A good burger is a glorious thing. The confluence of savory meat, fresh toppings, soft bread and flavorful condiments creates a nearly perfect bite. I say “nearly” because the burger-eating experience can’t go on forever. Eventually, you’ve eaten the thing, and that’s when the sadness sets in (that is, until you fix yourself another).
The funnel cake — served under a mountain of powdered sugar and any of a number of toppings — is the stuff of fried food legend, and a trip to the fair, carnival or theme park isn’t complete without one. Or the stack of napkins you’ll need to go with it.