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.
I’m not a big raw bell pepper fan, but the smoky sweetness of a roasted pepper always appeals to me.
Over the years I’ve roasted peppers many different ways—under the broiler, mostly, and sometimes over a gas flame or charcoal grill. But my favorite way is roasting in a covered gas grill. Not only is this method simple and hands-off, but it also yields a roasted pepper that’s easier to peel, because the skin really blisters and pops off, rather than getting too cooked and sticking to the pepper.
The convected heat in a hot gas grill quickly surrounds the pepper on all sides and blackens it in less than 10 minutes. (A couple of flips with the tongs helps.) I take the peppers out when they’re mostly, but not completely, blackened so that they don’t overcook.
My mother, brother and a couple of friends were coming to dinner Sunday night. I had the main course – some organic St. Louis-cut pork ribs (according to the Whole Food’s butcher these are meatier though less tender than baby-back ribs – and they MUCH cheaper). I had plenty of peppery arugula for a vinegary foil for the sweet and smoky barbecued ribs. What I needed was a side dish salad – something that I could make before my guests arrived. Something starchy, but showcasing summer vegetables. Of course, I really did not want to go to the market. I’ve got a vegetable garden – isn’t that supposed to supply me with veggies?
Well yes, and no. See my day’s harvest? This would be perfect for three or possibly four, but I had seven people coming to dinner. Hence, the Wheatberry Whatever Salad. The salad pictured is farro combined with the beans, squash, tomatoes, basil and garlic chives with olive oil, lemon juice, crushed garlic, salt and pepper too. It was great. It would also be an excellent way to use odds and ends of produce in your refrigerator.
From the LA Times
You know summer's here when your cocktail looks like a snow cone. Or a lassi. Or an ice cream float. Or a fruity soda pop that comes in a glass bottle, complete with bubbles and twist-off cap.
A wave of new cocktails that hew toward the playful not only puts us squarely in summer but also is helping to make L.A.'s cocktail scene uniquely its own.
The snow cones at Son of a Gun on West 3rd Street are tiki-inspired crushed-ice cocktails served in paper cones that rest in julep cups. A new cocktail menu at 1886 Bar at the Raymond in Pasadena features bottled fizzy cocktails. And at Pour Vous, the French-themed bar that opened on Melrose Avenue in Hollywood two months ago, the menu is punctuated with lassis and parfait look-alikes and drinks that resemble something from your favorite juice bar. What's up with all the fun drinks from serious bartenders?
"Our cocktail culture really reflects an evolution," says Lindsay Nader, part of the Pour Vous team that helped realize a novel take on French-inspired drinking. "There are [craft cocktail] pioneers in New York who are still kind of stuck in this rigid way of working and creating. They aren't breaking free of the handlebar-mustache, buttoned-up attitude. In L.A., we're moving out of that era, it's anything goes, we're having fun with cocktails and stripping away some of that seriousness."
I’d flown to New York for too short a time and then extended my stay because I had too many things to do and then flew home. Crowded/full flights both ways, a little delay, and by the time I reached L.A., I was flat on my back. Jet lag. No. Fever.
And for me a completely curious thing - since I think the cure for the stomach flu is a chili dog or a hamburger please with French fries - absolutely no appetite. None. I was nervous about that.
I didn’t eat anything for two days – don’t discuss my metabolism, two hours is a long time for me.
But by the third day, I still didn’t feel like I could eat anything.
Unaccustomed to any processed food, maybe blame it on the “cheese plate” if you can call it that that comes packaged on the plane if they put enough on and you can in fact purchase one, I felt only the freshest thing would do. Not even chicken soup. (I have a theory by the way that chicken soup is not a curative but quite the opposite, but that’s another story.)
All I wanted was some kind of broth, no, something slightly more substantial. Home-made vegetable soup. The easiest thing in the world.