what to bring to summer parties

Is it just me, or is summer flying by? Looking ahead to Labor Day and the coming weekend, here are some ideas from the Dinner Party archives on what to bring to a potluck/barbecue/picnic, a question I often find myself mulling over this time of year. Any of these recipes would be a welcome addition to a party. You might even get yourself asked back.

Drinks:
Lemon-mint slushies
The paloma
The red and the black

Snacks:
Charred onion dip and potato chips
Chile-lime peanuts
Pineapple salsa and tortilla or pita chips
Tuna-stuffed peppadew peppers
Salami-wrapped Mean Beans

Salads:
Kitchen sink summer salad
Simple tomato salad
Summer melon with cucumber, basil, and feta
Mixed-up salad
Panzanella

Desserts:
Key lime pie
Coffee ice cream tart
Oatmeal-coconut raspberry bars
Peanut butter brownies
Strawbaby shortcake

And here's inspiration from a few other sources:

Fruity desserts with funny names (grunts, slumps, buckles, pandowdies) [via Gourmet]

Make-ahead picnic salads (quinoa with sugar snap peas, green bean and tomato salad with tarragon dressing) [via Food & Wine]

Refreshing melon agua fresca [via Smitten Kitchen]

In other news, Dan and I are heading down to Richmond, Virginia for an outdoor wedding with barbecue and a bluegrass band. Fun, right? I'll return to posting sometime next week.

Until then,
Lisa

a slurpee for grownups

Miss the Slurpee drinks of your youth? I've got a post over on Good Food Stories, a great blog co-run by my friend Casey, on how to make lemon-mint slushies, a grown-up (read: slightly bougie) take on the Slurpee. Cocktail umbrella optional.

what's for dinner, david lebovitz?

Today's Q&A subject is writer David Lebovitz. In the world of food bloggers, David is a heavyweight. Readers from around the world click over to his site every week to read about his life in Paris, get recipes for the latest fabulous dish he's made, and gaze at his incredible photographs. Unlike the average food blogger, David spent twelve years making desserts at Chez Panisse, is studying the art of chocolate making at Callebaut College in Belgium, and has authored several beautiful cookbooks, including Room for Dessert and The Perfect Scoop. His most recent book is The Sweet Life in Paris, a memoir about his life as an ex-pat in Paris, with recipes from his adopted city as well as nostalgic dishes from the home he left. I am a huge fan of David's work and couldn't be more excited to have a little window into how he entertains. To be so lucky to sit at his table!

1. Name, occupation, and city
David Lebovitz, writer, Paris

2. When was the last time you threw a dinner party, and who was invited?
It was about 2 months ago. I made Mexican food for three French friends; carnitas, Rancho Gordo heirloom beans cooked in bacon, crumbly cheese (there's no queso fresco here, so I used Italian dried ricotta), corn sautéed with cilantro and chile powder, and tortillas were the menu. They loved it all. But were particularly interested in the dried beans; although they have dried beans in France, they'd never seen any like those. I like introducing French people to things that have been 'mis'-represented here, such as Mexican food. Since it's unfamiliar, the restaurants that serve it do a not-so-stellar job of presenting it, so they have a bad impression of the food. Similar to if Americans thought that Panda Express at the mall represented the food in China. Or the croissanwiches in America, which hopefully have disappeared, were indicative of the croissants in Paris.

3. What is the best menu you've ever made for company?
Le grand aïoli-a big platter with all sorts of raw and barely-cooked vegetables, potatoes roasted in lots of garlic and thyme and olive oil, toasted bread rubbed with more garlic, and roast chicken. Alongside was a bowl of garlic mayonnaise. And to wash it all down, lots of icy-cold rosé. It's a meal that everyone likes, including vegetarians, and is pleasing to Parisians (who don't eat enough vegetables) and Americans (who don't drink enough rosé.) [ed note: Cool, I made this too!]

4. What's your preference: wine, beer, cocktails?
Wine. I only drink beer if I'm at the beach in Mexico. I love cocktails, but since moving to France, I've become a lightweight and get smashed on 1/2 a martini. Most of the cocktails here are so loaded with ice, it's hard to get a buzz. But American-style cocktails I can't handle anymore.

5. What's your favorite dinner party soundtrack?
The soundtrack to the movie 9 1/2 Weeks.

6. Some friends are coming over for a last-minute dinner tomorrow night. What do you make?
Roast chicken. And I'd buy one from the woman with the rotisserie at the market. She does them better than anyone, including me. But if it's not market day, I get a pintade (guinea fowl), drape it in bacon strips (big, fat, smoky ones) and roast it off for an hour. On a separate sheet, I'd roast root vegetables with thyme branches and shallots cut in half, until they're all brown and crispy.

7. Do you usually cook everything yourself, or do you have help?
No one is allowed in my kitchen with me. Not because I'm territorial, but because there's no room. My kitchen is about the size of a Mini Cooper.

8. Do you ever buy store-bought food, or is everything on your table made from scratch?
I will sometimes buy frozen berries or things like corn kernels, which are impossible to find fresh in France. Being American, sometimes I just have to have corn. Berries are super-expensive in Paris; if you buy a 'barquette' of blackberries at the market, there might be 12 specimens in there, and would cost at least €3-€4 (around $5.) When you're cooking them, there's not much difference. And they do have frozen pitted sour cherries as well as fava beans in France, which are amazing.

9. What do you like to serve for dessert?
Always ice cream. It can be made in advance, and I love making ice cream. Plus everyone loves it, especially homemade.

10. If you could invite anyone over for dinner (living or dead), who would it be?
Justin Timberlake

[Photo credit: Louisa Chu]

link-o-rama

Maybe it's all the Mad Men I've been watching, but I've been in a cocktail mood lately. Doesn't that show make you thirsty too? In honor of hot weather and the even hotter Jon Hamm (good lord), here are some summer drink ideas:

Just in time for season three, Bon Appetit has a Mad Men-inspired menu including Moscow mules, pepper martinis, grapefruit gimlets, and something called the "perfect turkey." [via BA]

Also from Bon Ap, light and fizzy cocktails to get you slightly buzzed [via BA]

A gorgeous raspberry caipirinha (and a traditional version) over at Whisk: A Food Blog. [via Whisk: A Food Blog]

Melissa Clark concocts a heavenly-sounding chamomile syrup to liven up gin-based cocktails or mint tea. [via NYT]

A new trend (at least to me): ice cubes infused with spices, herbs, and fruit. Doesn't that sound refreshing? [via Gourmet]

Also from Gourmet, creative non-alchoholic drinks can be found in Paris, of all places. How about a frosty glass filled with muddled raspberries and strawberries, fresh grapefruit juice, lemon, and soda? I could go for one right about now, actually. [via Gourmet]

A cocktail it isn't, but cold-brewed iced coffee is an equally important thing that helps me get through the summer. The Kitchn has a primer on how to make it. I suggest using a French press for this, if you have one. [via The Kitchn]

the red and the black

A few years ago, I tasted a mysterious drink at the James Beard Awards, which I was covering for work. I attended the event with a photographer, and after we captured all of the shots and details I needed, we decided to loosen up and actually enjoy the bounty of fancy food and cocktails surrounding us.

I know I had a glass or two of Champagne, and some itty bitty desserts, and a taste of some sort of pork-of-the-moment, but the main thing I remember consuming that night was a tangy cocktail called The Red and the Black. It had chunks of strawberries and a good hit of tequila and was made by a bartender at Back Forty, a restaurant in the East Village run by chef Peter Hoffman, a champion of farm-to-table eating before it became the trendy thing to do. The drink tasted kind of like a cross between a margarita and a strawberry dessert, with a lingering spiciness. Weird and delicious. I drained my glass, trying to figure out what all of the ingredients were, and thought about it on the whole cab ride back to Brooklyn. And so I visited Back Forty a few times with friends and enjoyed the drink at its source.

And then I found the recipe in Food & Wine, and may never have to wait for a table there again. Although they do make very good salads...

To make the drink, you muddle strawberries into a bright red pulp, and combine them with lime juice and tequila. The secret ingredient? Black pepper simple syrup. (You know I love my flavored syrups.) A mix of black peppercorns, water, and sugar, the dark brown syrup gives the drink a surprising peppery heat. And the flavor is echoed in a salt-sugar-pepper mixture you use to rim the glasses, which adds an extra spicy kick to each sip.

Last weekend Dan and I were invited for dinner at Sarah's house. Instead of bringing my usual bottle of wine, I brought a batch of Red and Blacks, both regular and nonalcoholic (omit the tequila and add some seltzer). I did not take pictures of the rest of the menu, but here is what we ate: peaches, basil, and goat cheese on baguette slices; chilled corn soup in the prettiest tea cups; chicken salad with artichokes, tomatoes, potatoes and homemade mayo; salad; and a nectarine tart. Lovely, no? Sarah's hostessing skills are exactly how you'd imagine them: perfection. In addition to my drink, another guest brought a bourbon-prosecco-pear cocktail. Which is to say, by the end of the night we were all happily buzzed.


The red and the black cocktail
Peter Hoffman's recipe via Food & Wine.
(Makes 10 drinks)

2 1/4 cups sugar
2 cups warm water
1/2 cup coarsely cracked black pepper, plus 1 Tbsp. finely ground black pepper
2 quarts strawberries, hulled and halved
2 1/2 cups blanco tequila (20 ounces)
1 1/4 cups fresh lime juice (10 ounces)
1 tsp. salt
1 lemon or lime wedge
Ice

In a medium saucepan, combine 2 cups of the sugar with the warm water and bring to a boil, stirring to dissolve the sugar. Remove the saucepan from the heat, stir in the 1/2 cup of coarsely cracked black pepper and let cool. Cover with plastic and refrigerate for 3 hours. Pour the black pepper syrup through a fine-mesh strainer into a large measuring cup.

In a large pitcher, muddle the halved strawberries. Add 2 1/4 cups of the black pepper syrup, the tequila and fresh lime juice (reserve the remaining black pepper syrup for another cocktail). Refrigerate until chilled, about 1 hour.

On a small plate, mix the remaining 1/4 cup of sugar with the finely ground black pepper and the salt. Moisten half of the outer rims of 10 rocks glasses with the lemon wedge and coat lightly with the pepper-and-salt mixture. Fill the rocks glasses with ice. Stir the drink well, then pour or strain into the prepared rocks glasses and serve at once.

looking backward, looking ahead

Last week, my friend Megan came by for an after-work dinner. It was a busy week between dogsitting, meeting up with a visiting in-law, drinks with friends, and of course, work, but we wanted to see each other so we made it happen. I, however, didn't do much in the way of menu planning, other than choosing a recipe from the latest issue of Bon Appetit, a chilled zucchini soup topped with shrimp and cilantro cream. Usually chilled soups other than gazpacho don't call my name, but this sounded kind of nice, and I could whip it up the night before and let the flavors meld overnight.

The soup, a mix of sauteed onions and zucchini and chicken stock, was easy enough to throw together, as was the cilantro cream. The shrimp, upon closer reading* of the recipe, were meant to be served ceviche-style, cooked in lemon juice in the refrigerator overnight. I love ceviche in restaurants, but I was a little skeeved out to try it at home--especially on a guest. So I marinated the shrimp as instructed, and then quickly grilled them the next day. (*Note: Upon actual closer reading of the recipe--and help from a kind commenter--the shrimp should be cooked, then marinated. So, um, my bad.)

I also whipped together a mixed-up salad of ingredients I had on hand--an avocado, some fresh corn kernels, and cherry tomatoes. The avocado was tasteless and spongey, so I tossed it and instead, fried up a can of chickpeas I had in the cupboard. Frying chickpeas is my new favorite thing for snacks or salad garnishes, and it was an easy stand-in for the creamy, fatty avocado. Looking for a little extra something, I grabbed a container of kalamata olives in the fridge, diced up a handful, threw those in there too, and hoped for the best.

Even topped with the shrimp, the soup tasted a little like spa food to me. It reminded me of something you'd eat poolside at a Miami hotel, or some sort of posh slim-down resort in Malibu. Not that I have ever been to either of those places. In spite of the soup's verdant color and fresh zucchini flavor, something about it seemed a bit restrained. I found myself stirring in several extra spoonfuls of the cilantro cream just to give it a little more creaminess, a more decadent mouthfeel. Luckily the richness of the salad--the crunchy fried chickpeas, the salty olives, the creamy fresh corn kernels, helped offset the soup's virtuousness. A few glasses of wine also tend to offset virtuousness.


After dinner we ate slices of Megan's amazing lemon-glazed pound cake (recipe, por favor!), turned on the TV, and watched some old performances from our high school days. Dan recently had the home movie, which was on VHS tape, transferred onto a DVD. So now we can easily scan through kids singing accordion-backed songs about fish in French, improvisational comedy involving hula skirts and lampshades, and an improbably good live rendition of a Nick Cave song. Hey, we went to an arts school.

Some moments were definitely cringe-worthy, but there's something heartwarming about having shared memories of a time and place--to see faces of people you haven't seen in 10 years and cry out their names simultaneously, to recognize old teachers and mimic their voices, to laugh at old inside jokes remembered suddenly.

Dinner was bittersweet for me. Like another good friend, Megan's leaving New York too. (And they are both moving on the exact same day, which is kind of weird on a cosmic level.) But being in the same city again was great while it lasted. Now we connect on a new level and can talk about work, and husbands, and the stuff of adult life, not just the hippieish days of our youth.

Dinner with Megan
Chilled zucchini soup with lemon-cumin shrimp and cilantro cream
Mixed up salad
Pound cake with lemon glaze


Chilled zucchini soup with lemon-cumin shrimp and cilantro cream
I stuck pretty closely to this Bon Appetit recipe, except for cooking the shrimp in a pan.
(Serves six as a main course, four as a starter)

Cilantro cream:
1/2 cup sour cream (or Greek or plain yogurt)
2 Tbsp. chopped fresh cilantro
1 small garlic clove, pressed
salt and pepper, to taste

Whisk sour cream, cilantro, and garlic in small bowl to blend. Season with salt and pepper. (Can be made 1 day ahead. Cover and chill.)

Shrimp:
1 lb. peeled cooked medium shrimp
2 Tbsp. lemon juice
2 Tbsp. extra-virgin olive oil
1 tsp. cumin seeds
1 tsp. finely grated lemon peel

Combine all ingredients in medium bowl. Cover and chill at least 4 hours or overnight. (Can be made 1 day ahead. Keep chilled.)

Soup:
1 Tbsp. olive oil
1 medium onion, sliced (about 2 cups)
2 garlic cloves, sliced
6 medium zucchini (about 1 3/4 pounds), cut into 1/4-inch-thick rounds
4 cups low-salt chicken broth
2 Tbsp. chopped fresh cilantro plus sprigs for garnish
Juice of one lemon
salt and pepper to taste

Heat oil in heavy large pot over medium heat. Add onion; sauté until tender, about 8 minutes. Add garlic; stir 1 minute. Add zucchini; stir to coat. Stir in broth; bring to boil. Cover, reduce heat to medium-low, and simmer until zucchini is tender, about 10 minutes. Cool to lukewarm. Add chopped cilantro and lemon juice. Working in batches, puree soup in blender until smooth. Transfer soup to large bowl. Season to taste with salt and pepper. Cover and chill until cold, about 4 hours. (Can be made 1 day ahead. Keep chilled.)

Assembly:
Divide soup among bowls. Top each with shrimp, dividing equally. Spoon a dollop of cilantro cream over each, garnish with cilantro sprigs, and serve.

Mixed up salad
Use this recipe for the chickpeas to serve them as a snack, or in the salad with the other ingredients.
(Serves two to four people)

For the salad:
1 can chickpeas, drained and patted very dry
3 Tbsp. flour
2 Tbsp. olive oil
2 ears corn, shucked and kernels removed from the cob
1 pint cherry or grape tomatoes, halved
1/3 cup kalamata olives, pitted and chopped
4 basil leaves, julienned

For the dressing:
1/2 cup olive oil
1 Tbsp mustard
1/4 cup white wine vinegar
salt and pepper to taste

Pour the flour into a small bowl, then add the chickpeas. Toss until evenly coated. Heat the olive oil in a pan over medium-high heat. When the oil starts to smoke a little bit, add the chickpeas. Keep shaking the pan so they brown evenly on all sides. Be careful for exploding bits--I like to wear an apron when doing this. When the chickpeas are golden brown, take them out of the pan and set them aside in a bowl.

Combine all of the dressing ingredients in a large bowl and whisk until combined. Add salt and pepper to taste. Add the tomatoes, corn, and olives and toss until coated. Plate and sprinkle the chickpeas on top. Garnish with the basil. Serve immediately.

sunday supper for three

Dan's father Larry is in New York for work this week so he joined us for dinner on Sunday. Usually Dan and I spend Sunday nights in our pajamas, eating dinner and watching a marathon of TV shows starting with 60 Minutes and ending with True Blood. So having company was a nice change of pace. We both wore normal clothes and actually ate at the dinner table. Classy!

We also had another guest, whom we are dog-sitting. (I must show his photo because I am like the proud mother of a newborn. Except he is not mine.)


I wanted to make a fresh and summery meal that didn't require the oven, which turns our apartment into a furnace. Although I still caught Larry mopping his brow. Embarrassing. When trying to figure out a menu, my mind kept wandering toward seafood recipes for some reason. I thought about making grilled shrimp skewers, or poached salmon with pesto, or a big bowl of steamed mussels with crusty bread. And then I thought about linguine with clams, an everyday sort of meal that Dan and I eat a lot, but somehow it sounded more appealing than any of my other ideas.

To give the pasta an extra something special, I made breadcrumbs with parmesan and chopped parsley—the perfect crunchy foil for the garlicky clam- and bacon-studded broth and slippery noodles. We easily polished off almost two pounds of clams that night. Paired with a salad full of crunchy summer vegetables and feta, it was a great Sunday dinner. And we still managed to get quite a bit of TV viewing in. Nothing keeps my father-in-law from watching True Blood. The man must get his weekly Sookie fix.

One sour note: the panna cotta I made for dessert didn't turn out the way I had hoped. The custard tasted more watery than creamy, even though it was infused with vanilla and made with heavy cream. And the gelatin formed a thick layer at the bottom of each serving, making a mess when I unmolded each one. On top of that, the white peach puree I made was more like applesauce than a silky dessert topping. Gag. So I ditched the peaches and quickly melted some chocolate and swirled it on top of the panna cottas, a last-minute attempt to make them more edible. It didn't really help. But no matter—we were too distracted by killer vampires, lusty Bible-thumpers, and heart-eating zombies (eek!) to care.


Sunday night dinner with Larry
Fried chickpeas
Linguine with clams, pancetta, and parsley
Arugula with radishes, cucumbers, sugar snap peas, and feta
Panna cotta

Linguine with clams, pancetta, and parsley
We eat this recipe, from Jamie Oliver, year-round, but I like it best in the summer. Maybe it reminds me of the beach?

1 lb. dried linguine pasta

olive oil
4 strips pancetta, sliced, thinly (or bacon)
1 large clove of garlic, finely chopped
1 dried red chili, crumbled (or 1/2 tsp. chile flakes)
1 1/2 lb. clams, cleaned to remove any sand
1 glass white wine
1 handful chopped parsley
salt and pepper

Cook your linguine in salted boiling water until al dente. Meanwhile, get a pan hot and add a couple of good lugs (tablespoons) of olive oil and the pancetta. Fry until golden, then add the garlic and chilies. Soften them slightly and add the clams. Stir, then add the white wine. Put a lid on the pan and cook for a further couple of minutes until all the clams have opened–discard any that remain closed. Remove from the heat and add the drained linguine. Stir in the parsley, correct the seasoning and serve with all the cooking juices. Top each serving with breadcrumbs.

Parmesan breadcrumbs
(Makes about 1 cup)
1 cup breadcrumbs
1/2 cup grated parmesan
1 handful flat-leaf parsley, minced
2 Tbsp. olive oil
salt and pepper, to taste

Combine all ingredients in a small pan. Over low heat, toast the breadcrumbs until slightly golden, about 2 minutes. Be sure to stir the mixture to prevent it from sticking and burning. Remove from the heat and let cool.