Strawberry Shortcake seemed to always mark the beginning of summer when I was growing up.
Although we get strawberries almost year round in California, they always taste best in early summer. We always made our “shortcake” with biscuits.
This is a pretty foolproof method. When you stir slightly cooled melted butter into cold buttermilk, the butter will clump.
Although this might look like a mistake, it's one of the secrets to this recipe.
From the LA Times
Peaches and nectarines are kissing cousins. In fact, maybe closer. Plant a bunch of peach pits and a few of them will actually sprout nectarine trees, and vice versa. It used to be said that the difference was that peaches had fuzz while nectarines didn’t. But in supermarkets today, that’s hard to determine since many of the peaches have been mechanically de-fuzzed.
Generally, the flavor of nectarines is lighter and a little more acidic, almost lemony, while peaches are richer and muskier. Ripe nectarines can make you gasp with pleasure, but a great, perfectly ripe peach will make you fall to your knees. Still, you can use them interchangeably. What’s good for the peach is good for the nectarine.
How to choose: Check the background color. Ripe fruit will be golden, not green. Mature fruit that hung on the tree long enough to develop full sugar will have a distinctive orange cast. Always with peaches and nectarines, trust your nose: fruit that is ripe and delicious will smell that way.
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 mom has been pairing prosciutto with cantaloupe and melons from the time when cordless phones were first introduced (you had to pull out the long telescope antenna, and could hear yourself on your radio if you stood too close).
Lately, it seems everyone is touting melons and savory cured meats as the greatest thing since the iPhone 4G. But this combo is still old skool at our house. You really can't go wrong -- melon's inherent sweetness is always deliciously magnified by the salty, savory prosciutto, no matter how much technology has changed.
This simply chic salad is a send-up to my mom's appetizer: spicy wild arugula is paired with the season's juiciest cantaloupe and watermelon for a refreshingly tangy salad that pairs beautifully with grilled fish, meat, or pasta dishes.
Whenever I think of summer, I always remember the backyard parties and picnics my mom used to host just around my birthday in July. She always fried up batches of chicken while my dad grilled hamburgers and hot dogs. The menus never changed much from year to year. So I could always expect there to be potato salad and pasta salad. What would a backyard barbecue be without them?
I do love those types of "picnic" salads, but they're usually laden with mayonnaise and oftentimes pretty flavorless. I'm a bit more creative now with my pasta salads. I eschew the macaroni for penne, and make a very flavorful vinaigrette in place of the gloppy mayo. One of my favorite standbys is Greek-style pasta salad.
I love all Mediterranean flavors, but especially the salty and briny flavors of feta and olives. This pasta salad wouldn't be Greek without them. Fresh oregano and red-wine vinegar also help to make this salad feel truly Greek. The best part is the time it takes for this salad to come together, which is just about the time it takes to cook the pasta, 10 minutes.