Summer

The farmers' markets here in Southern California are amazing -- you can find dates, figs, guavas, kumquats, passion fruit, persimmons, and pluots, but rarely do you see humble blueberries.

I grew up picking and eating fresh blueberries every summer back in New England. Why, I wondered, are they so hard to find in California?

The problem is dirt. Apparently blueberries like to grow in highly acidic soil and Southern California has alkaline soil. This presents a challenge to growing blueberries in Southern California (which explains why most the of the blueberries I buy at the market are from Washington).

New England's acidic soil is perfect for blueberry bushes. I don't know what was better, marching along rows of blueberry bushes, basket in hand, with blue lips and fingertips or standing in the kitchen watching my mom use my very own fresh picked berries to make sweet blueberry buns with lemon icing, old-fashioned double crust blueberry pie, or a loaf of hot blueberry-corn bread (that went straight from the oven to my mouth).

Insalata di Caprese is one of those classic Italian recipes that shouldn't be reinvented. It's so simple and delicious just as it is—sliced mozzarella layered with sliced tomatoes and basil leaves and drizzled with olive oil. But there is room for reinterpretation, especially when you take those familiar flavors and ingredients and turn them into a whole new kind of salad.

I love grains in all their many forms, but they are most interesting when left whole and unadulterated. Wheat berries, for example, are wonderful in a salad. The Italian grain farro, which is related to spelt, is another whole grain that makes a great salad. This recipe combines farro with the ingredients of a classic Caprese salad. All the components that make a healthy and refreshing salad are right here.

Instead of sliced mozzarella and tomatoes, I use small bocconcini and cherry and cocktail tomatoes. For added tang, I drizzle the salad with red-wine vinegar. Serve this salad in place of the usual pasta or macaroni salad at your next picnic. It's perfect as a side dish for grilled meats, like steak or chicken. But it can even make a terrific light appetizer. Add some whole grains to your diet with this recipe. It will have you going back for seconds—even thirds.

Homemade ice cream is a great tradition for the Fourth of July. Undoubtedly it hits the spot on a hot summer day. And we all know store bought ice cream is nothing compared to homemade.

When I was sixteen I discovered my love of coconut frozen yogurt. Penguin’s Frozen Yogurt moved into my town and were looking for a bunch of teenagers to hire. It was a chain that was growing by leaps and bounds due to their popularity. After three…long…interviews I was hired. Can you believe three interviews for a job at a frozen yogurt place? Sheesh.

Anyway, coconut was a flavor we had maybe once a month. I loved it and it was all I would eat for the few days we had it. Since then I always seek out coconut ice cream…I never see it anywhere as coconut frozen yogurt…which is okay by me! I prefer ice cream.

So this ice cream…wow. Wow. Wow. It really is the best and there are so many possibilities of toppings, it make me dizzy just thinking about all of them.

I'm from the South. I grew up and went to college in Tennessee, and worked for many years in Atlanta.  But I never felt like I was home until I moved to New York City.   The city fit my disposition and overall world-view nicely, not to mention the comfort that comes from living in a Blue state. So, it takes a lot for me to find a desire to go back below the Mason-Dixon.  Still, every Memorial Day weekend I return to kick off the summer. Why?  Why do I go back for five days of nonstop comments about the liberal media, the constitutional wrongs of the “war of northern aggression” and the amazing wonders of the NRA?

Believe it or not, I go to Tennessee to camp with my uncle, Tony, and his gun-toting friends from college.  Though debated every year, the general consensus is that the tradition began in 1992 shortly after Tony and his friends graduated from college.  They chose to go out behind my grandparent’s property to a bluff by a lake. Back then the menu for the entire weekend consisted of the fish they could catch, and cook over an open fire.  Occasionally a pizza would find its way back courtesy of the occasional visitor not interested in spending the night outside.  But the overall spread was limited.