Summer

Does anyone remember the scene from the television show "Strangers With Candy" where the tremendously unpopular Geraldine Antonia Blank (otherwise known as Gerri), tries to woo her classmates into coming to her house for a party?

"Anyone coming to my party Friday night? We’re serving hot fruit!"

While the phrase sounds odd out of context and perhaps a bit unpleasant, here’s something that sounds good: grilled fruit.

Ribs and chicken aren’t the only things that should get grill time. There’s nothing quicker and easier than slicing a fruit or two, tossing it on the grill and dressing it with a glaze, syrup or a sprinkle of brown sugar and cinnamon. It’s the perfect topping for a scoop of ice cream and quite a delicious and unusual way of serving summer’s stone fruit. The heat brings out the sweet sugary flavors and the grill lends a tiny bit of outdoor panache.

The trouble with going to the farmers’ market is that everything looks so gorgeous I buy enough to feed everyone in my zip code. Then I go home and realize that I actually have to do something with all this bounty, as in, cook it, at which point I have been known to utter a mild curse.

Last weekend I visited the relatively new market at the Beverly Glen Circle. The produce and friendly purveyors were so seductive, I found myself leaving with armloads of bell peppers, eggplant, red onions and masses of heirloom tomatoes, herbs, stuffed flatbread, artichoke spread and even some truffle-scented sea salt, although I’m clueless as to its practical use. If you’d seen me schlepping all those bags to the car, you’d have mistaken me for someone who actually likes spending most of the day in the kitchen.

Isn’t it great to be blessed with friends who entertain beautifully, who attend to every detail, artistically, with care and flare? Friends who take pleasure in delighting with beauty and richness?

I am one lucky ducky in this department for sure. Most of my friends enjoy setting a pretty table and “doing the flowers” as I call decorating when having guests over for a meal. A couple of my peeps, though, are off the charts in this department which causes me to spend most of my time wandering around their house saying “wow I love that,” like I haven’t read a newspaper in weeks and have nothing else to say for myself, or like a gal from East Podunk, straight off the farm, who’s never seen a formal place setting before let alone matching salt and pepper shakers. Or someone in awe of people who create beauty and inspire me by the things they think of and do. Please say the latter.

One would expect our friends Heidi and Guy to have a great house. She’s been selling prime LA real estate for 25 years, and he is the proprietor of Ligne Roset Los Angeles, the go-to store for architectural furniture. Ten years ago Heidi and Guy combined tastes, talents and 3 young teens and moved into a sprawling and spacious Spanish, Mission- style house in a canyon with a never ending view of LA’s immense valley. Guy is almost apologetic in sharing in his off the cuff, just between us, way that the style of the house, the architecture, is not really him so much, (like any of us who know him and his exquisite design sense need to be told), but the interior and over all vibe of the house is so him and Heidi in all of their beauty, creativity and warmth; the art, furniture and fabrics, the two gorgeous greyhounds, the family photos taking up a whole wall in the kitchen juxtaposed with the Chanel Houndstooth fabric on the family room couch.

Nothing really speaks summer better than fresh rhubarb and fresh strawberries. I love going ot the farmers market and smelling the scents of summer. Fresh fruit is everywhere: berries, stone fruit, citrus, it’s at almost every stall and one piece of fruit tastes better than the next.

Wanting to create something that screamed summer, it was a crumb cake recipe from Canelle et Vanille that inspired this recent dessert. With lots of strawberries on hand, not only did I make a whole tart for our Father’s day, family dinner but I made individual cakes (in Weck jars) for end of the year gifts.

When I stumbled upon the recipe, it inspired a memory from middle school. My first memory of a crumb cake was an aluminum, massive tray, manufactured, in the school cafeteria. I didn’t buy lunch or snack often, but on coffee cake day you can bet I had change in my pockets. The flavor of my first coffee cake is a far cry from this wonderfully light cake, but a crumb topping is a crumb topping – and that flavor is hard to beat.