Summer

The farmers' markets here in Southern California are amazing -- you can find dates, figs, guavas, kumquats, passion fruit, persimmons, and pluots, but rarely do you see humble blueberries.

I grew up picking and eating fresh blueberries every summer back in New England. Why, I wondered, are they so hard to find in California?

The problem is dirt. Apparently blueberries like to grow in highly acidic soil and Southern California has alkaline soil. This presents a challenge to growing blueberries in Southern California (which explains why most the of the blueberries I buy at the market are from Washington).

New England's acidic soil is perfect for blueberry bushes. I don't know what was better, marching along rows of blueberry bushes, basket in hand, with blue lips and fingertips or standing in the kitchen watching my mom use my very own fresh picked berries to make sweet blueberry buns with lemon icing, old-fashioned double crust blueberry pie, or a loaf of hot blueberry-corn bread (that went straight from the oven to my mouth).

It's strawberry season and the markets are filled with this seasonal gorgeous red fruit. Just a great reminder that it's spring and summer is right around the corner.

One of my favorite fruit combinations is strawberry-banana. It's perfect for smoothies, yogurt and even ice cream. I figured why not put these two together and make it into an irresistible crumble. What a good idea that was. It is delicious. And the topping...I could eat it by the bowlful.

I washed my strawberries, hulled them and cut in to quarters lengthwise. This keeps them mostly intact as they bubble away in the oven. I decided to use my smallest cast iron skillet for this rustic dessert. I love the way it heats up and keeps things warm once removed from the oven. My whole family loved this dessert. I think it's the perfect ending to a summery meal. Next time I'm going to serve it with this fried chicken.

Blue and yellow, shades of pink, all green – right out of the garden and into my house. This Farmer loves to snip blossoms, blooms, and branches and adorn my house with trappings from the garden.

Just a quick traipse down the garden path can yield little nosegays and bouquets aplenty to bring the outside in… and bring them in all summer long!

Neighboring colors on the contrast chart, such as blue and yellow, always make a visual splash and impact whenever they are used. Rather than a diametric contrast, such as orange and blue, slide over a step and use yellow.

I just think “happy” when I see such a jaunty combo, and rightly so! For the word “jaunty” has the French word for yellow as its root!

Just knowing that the combo of blue and yellow makes green gives this little trilogy of hydrangea, salvia, and melampodium an added oomph and pizzazz. The sharpness of the true green leaves with its parent blue and yellow colors is delightful.

While on the subject of green...

Our first little zucchinis appeared on the scene yesterday. We picked them, put them out at the farm stand, and someone bought them. Yeah, I know. That won’t last forever. There will come a time, say mid-August, when you won’t be able to give away a summer squash, they’ll be so ubiquitous. Just don’t do what I did a few years ago and try to feed them to your dog. (Poor Gus.) Honestly, there are plenty of delicious things to do with summer squash, and I’m determined to convert a few squash-bashers this summer with a couple of my recipes.

The first is a really, really quick (did I say quick?) sauté that requires very little effort to deliver a dish with restaurant-quality good looks and a lovely flavor and texture. The only caveat is that you have to hop yourself over to a housewares or kitchen store and pick up a groovy tool called a hand-held julienne peeler. It’s not expensive (about $6), and is just the coolest thing. Drag it along the outside of a summer squash, and it makes beautiful zucchini “ribbons.” (Use it to make strips of Parmigiano cheese for a salad, too, or to grate beautiful strands of carrots for a salad.)

The zucchini ribbons need only a quick toss in a hot sauté pan to be perfectly cooked—tender, but still al dente (sort of like linguine!). I like to make a little brown butter in the pan first, and to finish these sautés with a squeeze of lemon or lime, a few chopped toasted nuts, and a smattering of chopped bright fresh herbs like mint, cilantro, basil, or tarragon.