Summer

I thought I knew my white fish – cod, sole, halibut, tilapia, etc. That is until a couple of months ago when I met California White Sea Bass. Now nothing else seems as worthy. OK, except for the halibut I bought recently. That was amazing.

What makes California White Sea Bass so good? It's a satisfyingly thick, meaty fish with a pure, mild flavor. It's ideal for baking, pan searing, and grilling since it won't fall apart and can withstand all types of chunky salsas that are tossed on top of it.

Like I did with the halibut, I bought my California White Sea Bass from Tommy Gomes at Catalina Offshore Products in San Diego, purveyor of fine, fresh, locally caught seafood. If you don't live in San Diego or along the West Coast, consider shopping online for California White Sea Bass. And don't feel guilty about eating it: The Monterey Bay Aquarium Seafood Watch lists it as a "best choice" fish.

There may be other perfectly tasty white fish out there I haven't met yet, but I don't care. My California White Sea Bass and me, we're getting along just fine.

You can’t eat rhubarb without strawberries. Sorry. That’s just the way it is. I don’t make the rules; somebody else does. In fact, June 9th has been designated National Strawberry-Rhubarb Pie Day. Check your office calendar; you might actually have the day off.

Growing up on the East Coast, I remember going over my great aunt Pauline’s, where she grew rhubarb along the side of her house. I also remember eating it raw, and scrunching my face up in satisfaction at its impossibly tart flavor. I loved it as a kid, and I still love it as an adult (but not raw, thanks). Just writing about eating raw rhubarb makes my teeth ache (of course it might just be my new whitening toothpaste).

I also remember carrying home bundles of rhubarb that my mom would transform into mouth-watering desserts, of which my family’s favorite was strawberry-rhubarb pie. There was always an exciting anticipation watching my mom roll out the dough, stew the fruit, and make the perfect lattice topping with sparkly sugar crystals on top. Although I would haved treasured a piece, I knew that I didn't have the time this weekend to make one. So, I settled on this easy-to-make, delicious-to-eat strawberry rhubarb sponge pudding.

I don't remember the first time I ate a summer cantaloupe boat, but I do know the attraction was immediate. That's surprising since it was a product of one of my mom's 1980's diets. She never did the grapefruit diet (too sour) or the cabbage soup diet (too bloating), but she did do the low-fat diet, which included rice cakes (a euphemism for styrofoam) and lots of low-cal cantaloupe.

Cantaloupe has always been a good friend of those watching their weight because it's a high water-content food. That means it helps fill you up quickly without added calories and helps you minimize bloat naturally. With high levels of vitamin C, potassium, and fiber, it's also a powerhouse of nutrition. And let's not forget that a perfectly ripe chilled cantaloupe is irresistible -- delicate, juicy, and sweet.

I don't diet. But I do love cantaloupe boats because they're healthy and refreshing on a hot summer day. And who wouldn't love that?

With no attempts to revise biblical history, I have concluded that some religious scholars may have erred. I simply do not believe that the fruit hanging from the Tree of Knowledge in the Garden of Eden could have ever been an apple. In my humble opinion there is only one fruit that had the potential to misdirect Eve into morally unsound behavior.

It had to be an heirloom tomato.

Alright, it’s not as romantic and symbolic as the ubiquitous apple and what I’ve written may be considered blasphemy, but when you take that bite of your season’s first heirloom tomato you quickly understand how some things on this planet can just be absolutely perfect as they are and make you want to do bad, bad things just to get another bite.

It might just make you want to write a letter to the editor of the Good Book. Wait, um, on second thought, scratch that.

Heirloom tomatoes have gained popularity in the past decade or so, and that puts one of the biggest smiles on my face. If you’ve never tasted an heirloom (let alone never seen one), you might react by shock and horror and then pure idiotic delight. Simply put, heirlooms are very very old tomatoes, grown from plants and seeds that have been handed down from generation to generation. Because of their lineage, there’s usually a story behind each specific variety.