salad days

This is the time of year when everyone starts talking about "eating light." Of course, it's also the time of year when we tend to drink more fruity cocktails, and eat ribs, and stand in line for ice cream. I didn't say we are actually eating lighter, I just said we're all talking about it.

It's also the time of year when seasonal produce is abundant, making salads more of a joy than a chore to eat. When I go to the farmer's market these days I always want one of everything, more than our refrigerator can even hold. My greediness inspired the colorful, chopped up use-up-the-vegetables-before-they-spoil mixture you see above.

So here are two options for salads: one is the cutoff jeans and flip flops of the salad world--easy to throw together, perfect for potlucks and picnics. The other, a little more refined and elegant, is like salad's cute summer sundress equivalent--ideal for dressier occasions. Although, in my circles, cutoffs are pretty appropriate for any get-together. And the same goes for these salads.


Kitchen sink summer salad
This salad is infinitely flexible. Hate radishes? Leave 'em out. Love red onion? Add some in. I like using as many different kinds of vegetables as possible, but definitely change up the ingredients as the season changes.
(Serves 4 to 6 people)

4 ears corn, shucked, and kernels removed from the cob
1 bunch radishes, sliced thin
1 avocado, sliced into cubes
2 pints cherry or grape tomatoes, halved (try to get tomatoes in different colors)
3 green onions, greens and whites sliced thin
1 large handful of basil, sliced thin
1 cup feta, crumbled
1 1/2 lemons, juiced
1/2 cup olive oil
salt and pepper

Place the vegetables, basil, and feta in a large bowl. Pour the lemon juice and olive oil over the ingredients. Stir with a spoon, gently tossing to coat the ingredients evenly. Add salt and pepper to taste. Serve immediately.


Summer melon with feta, basil, and cucumber
Adapted from Andrew Carmellini's Urban Italian. He suggests using Bulgarian feta cheese, or ricotta salata, or a sharp goat cheese. I used a French feta, which is a little more creamy and less salty and that was pretty good too.
(Serves 6 to 8 people)

1 1b. melon, any kind (I used canteloupe), peeled and cut into 1/2-inch chunks
8 basil leaves, cut into strips, plus a few extra, for garnish
1/2 English cucumber, halved lengthwise and sliced into 1/2-inch pieces
1/4 tsp. salt
3/4 cup feta
2 Tbsp. olive oil
1/2 tsp. ground pepper
1/2 tsp. red pepper flakes (optional)

Combine the melon and basil in a bowl and refrigerate for at least 10 minutes. Combine the cucumber slices and salt and refrigerate until they are very cold. Arrange the melon on a platter, and lay the cucumber over the top. Sprinkle on the feta, pour on the olive oil, and crack the black pepper (and red pepper flakes, if using) on top. Add extra basil on top. Serve immediately.

straw-baby shortcakes

Please excuse the pukey name, but aren't these the cutest mini strawberry shortcakes you've ever seen? I made them for our potluck a few weeks ago. I wish I could say I was clever and made them tiny on purpose, but I got a little mixed up as I tend to do when baking--producing bite-sized shortcakes instead of normal, biscuit-sized ones.

I didn't want to spend time rolling and cutting biscuits, so I made lightly sweetened drop biscuits from the Joy of Cooking. The recipe called for walnut-sized balls of dough, which seemed really small, and I wrongly assumed they would rise and spread out, becoming normal-sized biscuits.

I really wanted a large, traditional shortcake that could be split and half and filled with whipped cream and berries. I freaked out for a moment, thinking that my plan was foiled and people wouldn't want to eat a dessert so minuscule, but quickly reminded myself that people love tiny things. Chihuahuas, sliders, and newborn babies are all small and beloved.

So I packed up the shortcakes and the containers of cut-up strawberries and whipped cream and decided to wing it. When dessert time rolled around, I arranged the shortcakes on a big platter, then covered them with a layer of strawberries and dotted the whole thing with poufs of whipped cream.

And you know what--it was fine. The dish was pretty, even! Everyone helped themselves to a shortcake or two and some berries and cream and when you ate them all together it was a perfect little strawberry shortcake. Or straw-baby shortcake.

Straw-baby shortcakes
The biscuits are adapted from the Joy of Cooking's quick drop biscuits recipe.
(Serves 10 to 12 people)

For the shortcakes:
2 cups flour
2 1/2 tsp. baking powder
1/2 tsp. salt
1 Tbsp. sugar
zest of one lemon (optional)
6 Tbsp. cold unsalted butter, cut into pieces
1 cup milk

For the strawberries:
2 pints strawberries, washed, hulled, and cut into quarters or halves, if the berries are small
1/4 cup sugar
3 Tbsp. chopped fresh mint (basil or tarragon would also be nice)
1/2 lemon, juiced

2 cups whipped cream

Make the biscuits: Preheat your oven to 450 degrees. In a large bowl, combine the dry ingredients and lemon zest. Add the butter and mix it into the flour, tossing the pieces with your fingers, coating and separating as you work. Do not allow the butter to melt or form a paste with the flour. Continue to cut in the butter until the largest pieces are the size of peas and the rest resemble breadcrumbs. Add the milk all at once. Mix the batter with a wooden spoon or rubber spatula until the dry ingredients are moistened. With a lightly floured hand, gather the dough into a ball and knead it gently against the sides and bottom of the bowl 5 to 10 times, turning and pressing any loose pieces into the dough each time until the adhere and the bowl is fairly clean. The batter should be moist and sticky but not smooth.

Use a teaspoon to form walnut-sized scoops of batter (or make them larger if you don't want mini biscuits), use another spoon to scrape the batter onto an ungreased baking sheet, spacing the biscuits about 1 1/2 inches apart. Bake until the biscuit bottoms are a deep golden brown, about 12 minutes.

To make the strawberries: combine all of the ingredients in a large bowl and refrigerate until ready to serve. To serve, place the biscuits on a large tray (or a few on individual plates) and top with berries and whipped cream. Serve immediately.

the case for whoopie pies

I have a love-hate relationship with cupcakes. They may be fun and delicious to eat, but at work I write about new cupcake bakeries almost every week--or least it seems that way. When will we all get sick of them? Somehow, like leggings, cupcakes maintain their trendiness and will not go away. But as much as I grumble about this or that new cupcake franchise, if you give me a cupcake, I will shrug my shoulders and inhale it. And I guess that's how they remain so popular.

I think it is time to move on. Let's let a new dessert get totally and completely out of hand. I propose the whoopie pie. According to Wiki, whoopie pies are of Amish descent and got their name because "children (or workingmen)" would find them in their lunch boxes and "shout 'whoopie!'" I have a hard time picturing this, but it's a very nice story. Does the cupcake have a cute little legend? No.

A whoopie pie has all the things a cupcake offers: cuteness, portability, vaguely retro charm, and frosting. Even better, the frosting is nicely positioned between two layers of cake, so you can actually walk and eat a whoopie pie without getting frosting all over your nose. Even The New York Times says they are having a "moment," which usually means a trend is dead, but this time, I have to disagree.

As further evidence of why this should be the next big dessert trend, Mindi made pumpkin whoopie pies for our potluck the other weekend and people went ape for them. Ape, I tell you. They were sweet and moist and filled with cream cheese frosting. And they flew off the tray. I ate one and a quarter and could have gone for a second, but it just didn't seem dignified.

Pumpkin whoopie pies
Adapted from Rachael Ray.
(Makes 1 dozen)

1½ sticks (6 oz.) unsalted butter, 1 stick melted, 1/2 stick softened
1 cup packed light brown sugar
2 large eggs, at room temperature, lightly beaten
1 cup canned pure pumpkin puree
1 Tbsp. pumpkin pie spice
1½ tsp. pure vanilla extract
1 tsp. baking powder
1 tsp. baking soda
3/4 tsp. plus 2 pinches salt
1 2/3 cups flour
4 oz. cream cheese, chilled
1 cup confectioners’ sugar

Preheat your oven to 350 degrees. Line two baking sheets with parchment paper. In a large bowl, whisk together the melted butter and brown sugar until smooth. Whisk in the eggs, pumpkin puree, pumpkin pie spice, 1 teaspoon vanilla, the baking powder, the baking soda and 3/4 teaspoon salt. Using a rubber spatula, fold in the flour. Using an ice cream scoop or tablespoon, drop 12 generous mounds of batter, spaced evenly, onto each baking sheet. Bake until springy to the touch, about 10 minutes. Transfer to a rack to cool completely. Meanwhile, using an electric mixer, cream the softened butter with the cream cheese. Add the confectioners’ sugar and the remaining 2 pinches salt and 1/2 teaspoon vanilla; mix on low speed until blended, then beat on medium-high speed until fluffy, about 2 minutes. Spread the flat side of 12 cakes with the cream cheese frosting. Top each with another cake.

link-o-rama

Hello! This week's links (and posts) are devoted to summer desserts:

Smitten Kitchen's lemon granita is almost too cute for words [via Smitten Kitchen]

David Lebovitz makes a luscious-looking panna cotta [via David Lebovitz]

Floating islands (meringue puffs) with lemon-scented custard sauce and raspberries [via BA]

Strawberries are starting to pop up at the markets again. Other than eating them straight out of the pint (my favorite way), here are three creative ways to use them:

Fresh strawberries with almond crème anglaise [via the NYT]

Rhubarb and strawberry compote with aged balsamic and ricotta [via D*S]

A retro Strawberry Delight from the always-delightful Homesick Texan [via Homesick Texan]

And one unrelated link: I am included in this month's Monthly Mouthful, a monthly poll of food bloggers on the Chew on That blog. This month's topic is "what seasonal summer ingredients are you looking forward to cooking with most?" Click here to find out what I'm excited about.

beer (or wine) nuts

For last weekend's potluck, I wanted to make a new nut mix that would go well with beer or white wine. Instead of the usual savory seasonings I lean toward when making roasted nuts, I wanted bright, spicy, summery flavor. I thought about using citrus zest, and decided to coat peanuts with finely grated lime peel and cayenne pepper. For balance, I added a generous amount of salt and sugar.

When I took the pan out of the oven, the lime peel had browned so much that it wasn't really recognizable. Luckily, I had some extra limes on hand, so I added more fresh zest and juice, which brought the citrus flavor right to where I imagined it. A little extra seasoning and they were perfect—although maybe a little unusual.

When I put the peanuts out at the party, people started eating handfuls with a slightly puzzled look on their faces. "What's on these?" everyone asked. My friend Martha, who is always unfailingly honest, said, "At first I thought these were really strange, but now I can't stop eating them." If I decide to go into the nut mix business and market these, I will be sure to put that slogan on the package. Thanks, Martha. Other skeptics were quickly won over: in twenty minutes or so, two pounds of nuts disappeared.

And even though they did go down easy with a beer, like I had in mind, these nuts would be just as good with some white or rose wine, or lemonade, or anything really.


Chile-lime peanuts
Although you see lime zest in the seasoning mix above, I recommend reserving the zest until the end, as in the recipe below. (Makes 1 lb. of nuts)

1 lb. of unroasted, unsalted, shelled peanuts
1 1/2 Tbsp. sugar, or to taste
1 Tbsp. salt, or to taste
2 tsp. chile powder or cayenne pepper, or to taste
1 Tbsp. olive oil
two limes, zested, one reserved for juice

Preheat your oven to 400 degrees. In a small bowl, combine the sugar, salt, and chile powder. Spread the nuts out on a baking sheet and drizzle with the oil. Pour the seasonings over the nuts and mix until they are evenly coated. Roast the nuts for about 15 to 20 minutes, or until they are golden and aromatic, but not brown. Remove from the oven and add the lime zest, tossing to coat. When the nuts have cooled a bit, taste one and adjust the seasonings if necessary. (I like extra salt and chile.) Just before serving, squeeze one of the limes over the nuts and toss to coat. Serve immediately.

potluck-y

Is it rude to offer to throw someone a party and then have the party at their house? Kind of tacky, right? It wasn't my original plan, but the party honoree, our friend E, generously offered to host everyone at his place since Dan and I live in a shoebox. It's a cute shoebox, but having more than a few people over at a time is kind of pushing it. I think we've officially proven that eight people is maximum capacity. So it's not as if I just invited myself, Dan, and 11 people over for dinner at E's apartment. He offered.

But is it rude to then ask all of those people to help bring the food and drinks, even though the dinner was my idea, and I was having it at someone else's house? Maybe I'm being a little cheap or lazy. Let's just call it a potluck.

Luckily for me, and E, and everyone else, no one seemed to think my plan was rude or tacky, and dinner went swimmingly. I wasn't sure if everyone would be into cooking, but they all went above and beyond, preparing an impressive array of food and drinks, all homemade.

There were interesting dips and snacks:



Two summery salads, three kinds of sausage, and a hearty pasta to round out the meal:



Several rounds of Palomas, the perfect summertime cocktail:


And two homey desserts:


I'm now a huge proponent of potlucks. The food was great, but the best thing about the night was everyone cooking and mixing drinks and helping themselves to dinner in E's kitchen. And it's so interesting to watch people cook! I liked observing Colin's slow and deliberate method of layering tomatoes in his caprese salad, watching Mike mix Palomas in his neat, efficient way, and turning around to find a really wonderful pasta dish that Martha made seemingly off the cuff. It just sort of materialized, hot and steaming, full of vegetables and spicy sausage.

The whole night felt looser and more relaxed—like an indoor picnic. The main reason I throw dinner parties is to get people I love in the same room, but being the sole cook can make you feel disconnected from the party. I often find myself darting in and out of the kitchen just to keep up with conversation. As much as I like being in charge of a menu, sometimes it's nice to let other people help cook too.

I'm already thinking about my next potluck—anyone else want to offer up their house?

Bon voyage party for E
Palomas
Chile-lime peanuts
Red pepper and white bean-garlic dip, pita chips, and crudite
Deviled eggs
Greek salad
Caprese salad
Fusili with turkey sausage, chickpeas, tomatoes, and spinach
Assorted farmers market sausages
Pumpkin whoopie pies
Strawberry shortcakes

A few tips on throwing a potluck, whether it's at your house or someone else's:

1. Have everyone email or tell you what they are bringing ahead of time to make sure you don't end up with six kinds of hummus.

2. Let everyone BYOB. Or, if you're flush with cash, provide the bar yourself and let everyone else bring food.

3. Don't get hung up on matching dishes or having everything perfectly plated. The fun of a potluck is that it's casual and doesn't need to be photo-perfect. (As seen above.)

4. If people can't (or won't) cook, be flexible and let them bring premade stuff. There's no shame in a store-bought cake!

dinner party on shelterrific

I've got a post up on Shelterrific on a super fast appetizer: lemon-oregano shrimp. And this isn't one of those empty Fast! Easy! Quick! Cheap! magazine cover promises—this recipe really, truly takes no time to make. It's the ideal thing to whip up as people are just sitting down for drinks, or, if you're not feeling that hungry it can serve as a lovely, light summer supper with some salad and bread on the side. Sold yet? Go check it out.