Summer

Refreshing, sweet, crunchy texture, pretty....I love this! And as my husband schlurps away on this, he keeps repeating, "this is so good, but it's not soup".  I'm pretty sure he's doing it to annoy me, since I had an annoyed reaction when he said it. So he knows he's pushing my buttons, and it's working. "Of course it's soup, duh!", I said. We're such great communicators. 

Anyway, he keeps mumbling, "soup is hot". Yes, generally soup is thought of as being hot or warm and I will give him the fact that in the America's, fruit soups are not as common as warm savory soups. But,This Is Still Soup. And...chilled fruit soups are very common in Eastern European cultures....the mold from which we were both cut.

So, this is soup.  Let's not mention that him and I have both done our damage on an infinite number of bowls of chilled borscht...which he calls soup? I rest my case.

I wait all year for watermelon and then eat it with reckless abandon every chance I get.  I love buying the small, seedless varieties, they are so easy to cut up and enjoy.  I can't believe how sweet the ones I have already tasted are....so far a good crop!

Anyway, if you have never experienced watermelon with something a little salty and a little oniony, it's about time you do.  It's by far my favorite way to eat watermelon.  And it's totally addictive. You will enjoy it all summer and crave it all winter.  

You must experience this to understand what I am talking about.  You can thank me later!! Believe me when I tell you how surprising and wonderful the flavors are when they come together.

And I’d say, “Yech.”Or at least I used to. I’m not sure when the exact transition from terrible to tantilizing took place, but I can assure you it’s a food miracle. As a child, if any part of a raw tomato touched my plate, I couldn’t eat the item on it. The pulpy, soft texture, the runny pink juice – don’t even get me started about the seeds – was all like garlic to a vampire. The only thing that was (and still is) worse – the pickle.  (How could they do that to the cool deliciousness of the cucumber?)  But, I digress. You seriously could have tortured me by forcing me to take a bite out of one. I would have given up every secret I had before I ever put one in my mouth.

The tomato was my friend as long as it was cooked. Pizza, spaghetti, even salsa (I know it’s raw, but spices count for a lot) was enjoyed with pleasure.  Gradually as I made my way into the world I became more embarrassed by my food quirks and stopped picking them out of things. If I could order something without the tomato, say a sandwich, I would. Though I didn’t like it I hated wasting a “perfectly good” slice I wasn’t going to eat.  However, as I became more and more addicted to big, bountiful salads – inevitable for anyone who moves to California where there’s fresh produce year-round – I found leaving the tomato out was a much harder request.

My friend, Lynn, rubs up with mosquito spray and grabs a bucket as she heads out each year at this time to pick wild blueberries. She's been doing this for years, so it doesn't take her long to pick enough of those small, sweet berries in her secret spot to make at least a couple of blueberry pies. And, she makes the world's best pie crust. This year, she brought me a small pie that was perfect for my husband and I to share. We savored each bite of flaky crust that held her homemade wild blueberry pie filling. It was absolutely heavenly.

I don't pick wild blueberries, except for the few that grow along my driveway. Too many bears, woodticks and mosquitoes to worry about when one is out in the woods picking berries. And, I don't make pies. I make at least a few dozen of my favorite bluebery muffins each year at this time.

Today, I tried something a little different by baking a whole batch of my favorite blueberry muffin recipe in a springform pan to make a muffin cake.