Summer

I’ve got this Meyer lemon tree in my yard that is dripping with fruit. With a sudden burst of culinary energy (for some reason I’m channeling Rachael Ray) I am doing a lemon project this week, finally committed to using my harvest for something other than dog toys.

First, of course, I made lemonade. While I have often advised my kids (much to their irritation) to make lemonade out of lemons, I have rarely taken that advice myself, at least not literally. I had no idea how much sugar is in the stuff. No wonder it’s so addictive. Best rush since the Easter egg hunt.

I decided to make a couple of lemonade variations that would cut the sugar and add interest. Voila: Chamomile Arnold Palmers and Cucumber Mint Lemonade. Love that basic Meyer Lemonade, but if the sugar has you bouncing like a pinball, try one of its slightly less sweet cousins.

There was a time when the closest I would get to an eggplant was at an Italian restaurant when rounds of it would be coated with a thick layer of breading and fried to crispness, then smothered in rich tomato sauce and lots of cheese. But even at that, I'd still run across some very distasteful eggplant.

Oh, I've come a long way since those days. I've discovered fresh, locally grown eggplant.

I've found there are many varieties of eggplant, from basic globe eggplant to long thin Japanese eggplant to tiny Fairy Tale eggplants. Skin colors vary from white, to deep or light purple to striped or variegted. They can be small, round, long, slender, plump or pear shaped. While some eggplants are more tender, some have thinner skins, and some cook more quickly, none hold their shape very well during cooking and all have mild flavor. They all seem to turn delicious when they are roasted or grilled, baked or sauteed.

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...

Plums are such a special fruit with so many uses. For me their flavor is most unique: they are sweet near the skin but tart by the pit. The color too is deeper toward the skin and paler near the pit. All stone fruits are spectacular, in my opinion, but I adore plums for this uniqueness. I love eating plums when they're so ripe that their juices squirt right out when you bite into them and run down your arm. That's when I find myself eating them over the kitchen sink. Often when I buy plums in bulk, instead of waiting for them to fully ripen, I usually end up making jam or baking them into pastries, pies, and tarts.

Late summer always rewards us with beautiful Italian prune plums, recognizable for their egg shape, dark and bluish exterior, and green to yellow interior. They are typically available from August until September and can be found widely in the States, but more so in Europe. Often they are dried to make prunes, but more famously are made into the eastern European liquor slivovitz. Plums have always been a favorite in my family. Many Hungarian recipes make use of them: one dish in particular is gomboc, which are plums encased in potato dumplings, and rolled in a cinnamon-breadcrumb mixture. I like them, but I love plums much more in pastries like this crostata.