Summer

People in Portland, Oregon  have salmon on the brain. It is a centuries old, intense love-affair – one that I can easily identify with having grown up in the Bronx where lox was one of the five basic food groups along with pickled herring, pastrami, rye bread and shmalts {or schmaltz} - chicken fat.  Everyone from the state’s original people – the Umatilla, Warm Springs, Siletz and Grand Ronde tribes, to the chic tattooed urban dwellers, is salmon obsessed.

At the downtown Portland farmers market there are at least 3 purveyors of fresh and smoked salmon, not including a Native American  guy who also sells fresh salmon eggs that you can take home as I have and make ikura.  I’ve not done any scientific surveys but it appears to me that in the last 10 years the Oregonian has had more front page articles on protecting salmon habitats than on any other major political issue – except logging maybe. (Actually logging and salmon are joined at the hip because logging allegedly destroys salmon habitats.) 

Everyone has an all-purpose dish that can be modified in clever ways by changing a few key ingredients. For my mother, it was the casserole. For me it’s usually pasta but on those nights when my wife wants to “go green” I turn to an old stand-by: a wilted spinach salad.

Versatile spinach works cold in a salad or heated by sautéing or boiling. A hot dressing brings spinach to a middle ground: mostly raw with some leaves wilted from the heat of the dressing. Sautéing the dressing allows for a great variety of ingredients: Italian sausage, anchovies, mushrooms, shrimp, bacon, chicken, duck, chicken livers, or purely vegetarian. As far as I can tell just about any pizza topping would work on a wilted spinach salad, excepting maybe pineapple.

I invite everyone to send in suggestions. I know I’ve only scratched the surface of this infinitely variable dish.

I figure I’ve eaten about 20 pounds of watermelon this summer. Fortunately, it’s 92% water and 0% fat, so my clothes still fit fine.

Even as a kid, I ate a lot of watermelon. Everyone in my family did. I can remember my Dad, his face beet-red from the heat, coming through our back door beaming as he was carrying a colossal watermelon. He always did the same thing: set it down on the kitchen counter and proudly announced its weight – 19 and 1/2 pounds! 23 pounds! Like his lobsta, the bigger it was, the better he liked it.

My brother Chris was always the one to cut the watermelon (seeing as none of the rest of us had his patience). With skills of a surgeon, he extracted every last seed while keeping the melon’s flesh intact. Come to think of it, I don't remember ever seeing seedless watermelons when I was a kid. Did they exist back then?

Picnic salads are some of the best summer foods. What would any outdoor cookout be without them? I can't imagine fried chicken without potato salad or steak without three-bean salad. The classic recipes are always appreciated, but sometimes it's nice to try something new—with a twist. This time I decided to reinvent the classic three-bean salad with a recipe that uses all fresh beans, with three different kinds—and colors.

This salad has yellow wax beans, green string beans, and purple wax beans. But it's hard to tell from the picture which ones are purple, because they lose most of their color once cooked. A shallot, though, makes up for the loss of purple color. Using herbs in the vinaigrette adds refreshing earthy flavor. And topping the salad with ricotta salata cheese adds a slight salty tanginess. This Mediterranean-style salad is great for party picnics with family and friends. Plus it pairs with just about any comfort food.