Summer

Have you ever attended a grill shindig where chicken is the star of the show and what you are served resembles eau d'ashtray or worse the bird is literally still raw.  Bleck.

For some reason, people feel the need to char the heck out of grilled chicken, leaving it dry and literally unpalatable.  But you eat it anyway to be nice. 

And then there are those who remove the chicken from the grill too soon because they put the grilling sauce on way too early and now it's burning.  Their solution...take the uncooked chicken off the grill... a very dangerous choice.  There seems to be no middle ground.

Notice anything unusual about this corn? No, it's not some nifty Photo-Shop-Curves technique. It's real red you're seeing. That's no ordinary ear of corn. That's an ear of edible red corn.

In the U.S. we typically refer to colored corn as "Indian corn" since Native Americans were the first people to grow corn in the New World. When European colonists came to the New World, they referred to corn of all colors as "Indian corn" to differentiate it from other grains such as wheat and rice. Over time, white, yellow, and bi-color corn replaced colored corn in people's diet, and colored corn became ornamental.

So what makes red corn red? Like red pomegranates and purple grapes, red corn derives its color from anthocyanins, or health-promoting antioxidants. This means that it's both more visually appealing and healthier than traditional corn.

As for texture and taste, red corn has slightly crunchier kernels and an earthier flavor. That's why in this recipe for Red Corn with Cilantro and Cotija Anejo Cheese, I added a touch of sugar. Acidic lime, salty Mexican cheese, and savory cilantro add complexity without masking the corn's unique flavor.

Peas, alas, are not a spring vegetable, despite what legions of food writers would have you believe. It is wonderful to think of things like spring pea risotto and minted pea soup in May, but unless you are lucky enough to live in a really temperate climate, you’ll be waiting for fresh peas until late June with the rest of us.

I feel bad being a Scrooge about this. Actually a super-Scrooge, as, these days, I can’t really even get behind those so-called fresh peas (usually already shelled) that arrive in the grocery stores before they do in my garden. I’d rather eat frozen peas. (And I do.)

The reason is that shell peas–or English peas–lose that just-picked sweetness rather quickly and wind up tasting bland and starchy when they travel many miles to get to you.

So right now I have to content myself with staring at the squat little pea seedlings in my garden, imagining what they’ll bring me. I’m very proud of them, actually. Yesterday I noticed that they’ve started unfurling their little tendrils and have obligingly begun to grab on to the curtain of strings I hung for them. Such good peas.

Homemade vinaigrettes are so easy that there is no reason to ever slather your greens in store bought dressings.

After I mix the ingredients together, I like to store mine in a small mason jar, so that I can shake it well before using (in case the oil and vinegar have separated).

The addition of a small amount of mayonnaise helps keep the dressing stabilized. I usually use Champagne vinegar, but a good red wine vinegar or fresh squeezed lemon juice will work as well.