Summer

I always think of avocado as one of my top summer foods. On wheat bread with goat cheese and tomato, alongside a quesadilla, on toast, or smashed with a fork into guacamole, avocados at their prime are just the best!

I have been obsessed with the combination of avocado, orange, and raw fish (this recipe may have started it). Usually, we keep the fish plain, with microgreens, avocado, maybe citrus, and a simple dressing, but I decided to take a stab at a tartare with this recipe.

Now I’m not 100% sure if this technically counts as a tartare – it might have poke leanings (feel free to enlighten me!), but whatever it is, this Asian-inspired dish is the perfect appetizer for a warm summer evening!

As far back as I can remember, every June my family would make our annual pilgrimage to Jones' Farm to pick bright red juicy strawberries. If we didn't leave with a heaping boxful then we didn't do our jobs. But as a kid I would always end up picking more for myself than for the box, eating every other berry and leaving with the tell-tale signs on my hands and face. I was just as guilty as the next kid, so actually I didn't feel that bad. Now as an adult I typically taste only one and try to keep myself from eating any more. I'm really just saving up for gorging on them in the privacy of my own home.

You really have to love strawberries to pick them yourself. After all that bending and picking, it's easy for a person to get tired. I must love them so much, because last week on a sunny yet breezy Monday morning, with the help of my mom, I picked 13 pounds of strawberries. But aren't strawberries easy to love? I don't think I know anyone who doesn't adore them. They're so sweet and mushy once you eat them. It's one of the most favorite flavors in ice cream and candy. Even lotions and some cosmetics are flavored with strawberries. That just shows you how extremely popular the flavor actually is.

My house wine is sweat tea, but there are a couple concoctions I simply relish as much as tea. One is Mrs. Wilson’s Rosemary Lemonade and the other, a “James Farmer” – this Farmer’s version of an Arnold Palmer.

Dear friends of mine in Montgomery host me and “put me up” (or more so put up with me) when I’m staying in town for the night, and Mrs. Wilson, a fabulous cook and hostess in her own right, often makes a batch of this delicious drink. I cannot be more thrilled to partake.

I, as she has, have served this sweet, tangy, and savory blend to guests, family, and party attendees alike and it is always received with smiles and requests for more.

Mrs. Wilson serves hers from beautiful antique crockery pitchers, thus making it taste that much better, in my humble opinion. A farm girl originally from Opp, Alabama, Mrs. Wilson knows the importance of serving the best to friends and family.

Often times the best is just simple yet elegant creations direct from the garden and the land. Rosemary lemonade epitomizes this – fresh herbs from the garden, juice right from lemons, and simple syrup to bring it all together.

Mix this lemonade with my sweet tea, and you have one heck of an Arnold Palmer. Delicious and divine my friends, delicious and divine. Yea, though, as I mention an Arnold Palmer, this Farmer does have a version of the famed beverage… selfishly dubbed a “James Farmer.”

The summer that sprang to mind when I first thought about what I read is not this summer at all but one from a number of years ago and it isn’t about something I read exactly but something that my friend Jamie read to me.

It was a brutally hot August day and we were floating in her pool, each of us in one of those brilliant floating chaise lounges with the built-in cup holder or in this case, built-in glass of iced tea holder. I am almost positive that Jamie was one of the very first people I knew to have a floating chaise lounge with the built-in cup holder and in fact she had two; one of which I was in, the other occupied by her.  I know for a fact that there was a very fragrant, perfect sprig of fresh mint in my iced tea glass which I can promise you she grew in her garden.

I was drifting, my head resting on the floating chaise’s pillow, my eyes closed, letting the chair take me wherever it wanted.   Every once in a while, I’d bump gently into the side of the pool, and using my hands as paddles, I’d turn myself around, never once opening my eyes.  The relentless sun and heat had made me feel positively light-headed and the water washing across my legs as Jamie floated past me, her chaise leaving a small but cooling wake, was the only relief.  I was somewhere between conscious and not when suddenly I heard a loud shriek.  “Oh my God!”