Go open your back door this morning and feel the cool air. It’s not quite sweater weather, although I did wear long sleeves walking Luke the wonder dog earlier. The breeze holds the promise of fall. As the sun rose today, wisps of fog wafted through the neighbor’s trees, and the mockingbirds were scolding louder than the blue jays. The wrens complained. The squirrelly boys lept fearlessly from the roof to the pliant arborvitae branches below. Our transition to fall has arrived.

Having cooler temperatures makes more things possible. It doesn’t seem onerous to have the oven chugging away baking potatoes at 450°F when it is cooler outside. It’s not like during the summer, when the oven seems to heat up the whole house. Although it would be more practical to have a compact, shoebox-sized toaster oven for potato baking – we just don’t have any space left for a toaster oven. Instead, our countertop is littered with a curated collection of olive oils, salt boxes, a pepper grinder, a bowl of fruit, Luke’s pills (he’s developed arthritis!), paper towels, dishwashing liquid, a vital Kleenex box (allergies abound in October) and the all-important coffee grinder and electric kettle. There is just no space for a toaster oven. Welcome to our cozy kitchen; warm and toasty from October to March.

Our dinner last night would never work for a typical family – meaning one with adults and school-age children. We had twice-baked potatoes and a salad; adding a protein seemed Herculean and unimaginable. We were glued to the iPad, watching the news about Hurricane Milton and the latest presidential campaign mic drop. Who had time to broil chops, or to roast a chicken? It was all we could do was to eat nice hot, steaming potatoes garnished with sour cream, grated cheddar cheese, bacon, left-over chili, dusted with Penzeys herbs, and green onions. Mr. Sanders added some healthy greeny broccolini and a handful of chopped tomatoes, because he is such a show off. He also made a side salad of cool Romaine and arugula, which was our nod to healthy eating. Plus we had a bowlful of baby carrots in lieu of fatty crunchy cocktail snacks as an appetizer. We ate our veggies, honest. Because there were fresh, home-baked chocolate chip cookies for dessert. Grown ups, yes, maintaining our priorities, thank you.

Poke around the fridge to be sure you have enough in the way of decorative and tasty garnishes for your potatoes. I had to excavate the freezer, digging through layers of frozen corn and ice cream sandwiches before I finally unearthed the chili from a couple of weeks ago.

Some folks like to rub potato skins with butter or olive oil before roasting. It is important to prick your potatoes to let the steam escape while they are cooking. I use a long cooking fork, and really spear the potatoes. Then I cheat a little, by popping the potatoes into the microwave for about 3 minutes on high for each potato. I also cook them singly, because I find the microwave math daunting. Then I pop them right in the preheated oven, on the oven rack, at 450°F for half an hour. Maybe I don’t need that toaster oven after all. I use Russet potatoes, because that’s what we had growing up, and I am sure Martha says so, too.

J. Kenji López-Alt, who does extensive and exhaustive recipe testing, recommends baking potatoes, preferably Russets, at 375°F for about an hour (the more moderate oven temperature produces a creamy, fluffy interior). Early on I had an art director who scoffed at such niceities. She believed in cooking things FAST. 450°F was her preferred temperature for a lot of foods. Never argue with your art director. And last night she was right, again. Thanks, Pat!

Baked potatoes with cheddar and bacon

Baked potato toppings

Nothing is as good as this, the perfect baked potato: with a knob of Irish butter, crunchy Maldon salt, and a pinch of freshly ground black pepper for a good, quick, hot and homey dinner on a cool night. Everything else you can add as a topping is just deelish window dressing.

“Wherever you come near the human race there’s layers and layers of nonsense. Look at that moon. Potato weather for sure.”
—Thornton Wilder

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Jean Dixon Sanders has been a painter and graphic designer for thirty years. A graduate of Washington College, where she majored in fine art, Jean started her work in design with the Literary House lecture program. The illustrations she contributes to the Spies are done with watercolor, colored pencil and ink.

 

Like Milo, the little boy in The Phantom Tollbooth, I am often looking ahead, which diminishes the piquancy of the current moment. Milo wanted to know what would happen next, and what was around the corner. “Expectations is the place you must always go to before you get to where you’re going.”
― Norton Juster

I am looking forward to fall, because it is October, after all. I want to wear comfy sweaters, shuffle through leaf piles, and fling the windows open. I am looking forward to wearing socks, planting bulbs and buying pumpkins for Halloween. I was not ready when the November issue of Cook’s Illustrated magazine thumped into our mailbox. It’s only October – who needs to read about Top Turkey FAQs? Or The Best Cranberry Sauce is Relish? But the final straw was the Vive le Croquembouche! piece. Tempus fugit and all that – I cannot go from the lazy summer dinners of grilled burgers and barbequed chicken to full on Thanksgiving holiday prep. Should we brine, or salt the turkey? Cast iron cornbread dressing? How to reheat the leftovers…

October is all about resetting our internal clocks and adjusting expectations. Let’s take things step by step. Pass me that full-sized Snickers bar, I need to start practicing Halloween, and then we’ll start thinking about nice fall-ish, October meals. We’ll start by moving inside, and re-acquainting ourselves with the stove.

I’m pretty sure all my mother ever did with pork chops was lightly brown them in a Revereware frying pan then toss them into a Pyrex baking dish and let the oven take over. (She did not believe in exotic convenience foods like Shake N’Bake.) She included a side dish of homemade coleslaw and a bowl of cinnamon-y apple sauce. And now you see my stodgy New England side: no fuss, no muss, and a lot of colorless food. Surely we have advanced a little here in this very modern twenty-first century?

Food52 has a spicy, colorful paprika inspired pork chop recipe.

Mark Bittman, never one to fuss, has a sautéed pork chop recipe

Of course, Martha has a complicated variation on my mother’s applesauce pork chops by Martha https://www.marthastewart.com/341389/pork-chops-with-apple-raisin-relish

Bon Appétit has the answer for everyone – BA’s pork chop variations

The New York Times had this deelish variation that we cooked so I could paint a decent illustration (as well as eating a nice Sunday dinner): Skillet Pork Chops and Apples

I also made a batch of my mother’s cole slaw, so we were respecting tradition, as well as feeling hip and modern by tossing a little miso into the pork chop skillet. The apples were our seasonal gesture toward fall – even though it is sunny and 78° this morning as I type. Still, it is not in the 80s, and Luke the wonder dog is happily napping, resting up from his morning walk, while anticipating his afternoon stroll. Maybe we need to re-name him Milo.

Fall is coming. Don’t look ahead on the calendar. Don’t think about Thanksgiving just yet. Buy some apples and cider at the farm stand, and then a couple of pumpkins. The mums are radiating beams of color and light. The birds are coming back. And grab me another Snickers, please.

“When he was in school he longed to be out, and when he was out he longed to be in. On the way he thought about coming home, and coming home he thought about going. Wherever he was he wished he were somewhere else, and when he got there he wondered why he’d even bothered.”
― Norton Juster

It has been the longest, hottest summer on record! And it’s almost October. Although we are keeping an eye on the latest hurricane threat: stay safe, Florida!

As we try to walk our 10,000 steps every day, lingering under the shady trees as much as possible, Luke the wonder dog and I long to be home, in the coolth. Luke can at least lie on the floor, on top of the air conditioning vent. He also doesn’t have to worry about what to do with the sudden abundance of zucchini. Like Homer Price’s doughnuts, ripening zucchini is everywhere. Luckily, there are just about as many recipes for zucchini as there are the ubiquitous and magically regenerating vegetables themselves.
It’s that time of year. Again. Neighbors furtively slipping their excess zucchini harvest onto your front porch, before dashing back home. These are the times that try cooks’ souls: what to do with all the excess zucchini baggage.

Luckily it’s been a great tomato season, and they provide excellent camouflage for zucchini: Zucchini Tomato Gratin

What are we to do with all the zucchini? It doesn’t look very nice on the windowsill – the end-of-summer tomatoes in varying stages of turning from green to red are much more attractive. An elegant galette is a good way to start your purge. The crust is easy and forgiving, and it is soothing to lay out all the zucchini rings in ever widening circles. You will look very competent and trustworthy. And then you can start to spring these other surprises on the unsuspecting. If you have a garden, you have been harvesting tomatoes with a greedy heart, thinking about the jars of spaghetti sauce you will enjoy this winter. But what about that ever-rising green mountain of zucchini? You need to put on your thinking cap, and find some creative culinary solutions. Zucchini Ricotta Galette

Zucchini boat recipes are popular. I like the idea of filling hollowed out vessels of zucchini with a variety of fixings, vegetarian or not, and using up all the lingering leftovers. Zucchini Boats

Luckily, zucchini is oh, so versatile. You can find it in soups, salad, chips, galettes, casseroles, hidden in breads and cookies. You can roast it, slice it, twirl it. This is a link to a virtual compendium of Zucchini Recipes.

Do not be sneaky with zucchini. You don’t want to be the formerly favorite aunt who brings zucchini ginger cupcakes to the birthday party. Kids have a different perspective on summer. They never forget so-called “gourmet” baking experiments, or deliberate kid deceptions. Zucchini Ginger Muffins Yummy icing is always welcomed.

Nobody is fooled by zucchini bread. Least of all the small children into whom you are trying to stuff healthy vegetables. They are wise to your ways. Discuss the benefits of adding vegetables to your daily diet before feeding them this delicious Lemon Zucchini Bread. We are very excited about this Chocolate Zucchini Bread.

“The trouble is, you cannot grow just one zucchini. Minutes after you plant a single seed, hundreds of zucchini will barge out of the ground and sprawl around the garden, menacing the other vegetables. At night, you will be able to hear the ground quake as more and more zucchinis erupt.”*
-Dave Barry

*This is my favorite zucchini quotation of all time, and I haul it out almost every year.

Last weekend Mr. Sanders and I stole some time away from Luke the wonder dog. We plied him with a red rubber Kong stuffed with a huge gobbet of peanut butter. We scampered out of the house to pile into the car which was packed to capacity. No, we weren’t sneaking out for an impromptu vacation or to a swanky club for the newest in artfully curated cocktails. No. It was a Saturday, and we were driving to the dump, with a load of broken pecan branches and fragrant grass cuttings. The dump is where we went on our significant 40th wedding anniversary, an occasion which we documented with a rare selfie.

Our drive to the dump is short. We leave the leafy neighborhood to travel past the packed Target parking lot, past the commuity college, onto a highway where we can gauge the seasons by the passing trees: bare, leafy, or blooming copses of crape myrtles, and rows of tall, blue-green pine trees that bend and wave in the wind. Off the highway, under some towering power lines, we see fields whose crops change seasonally: collards, tobacco, sunflowers, beans, and corn.

Then we see a couple of vine-covered, tumble-down brick buildings in what must have been a tiny town center – or more accurately, a crossroads, which, since we didn’t grow up here, has an air of mystery for us. Why were these buildings abandoned? Who lived there? Do moody introspective high school students come out here to take pictures for their yearbook portraits? I hope it isn’t Japanese knotweed cozying up to those buildings. Maybe it’s just Virginia creeper or kudzu. We never consider the more prosaic reasons of death, or taxes, as reasons why the buildings stand empty when we drive by. The abandoned hamlet is the stuff of Nancy Drew, or Stephen King, to our passing fancies.

The dump isn’t a vast cinematic wasteland, with piles of abandoned cars and hills of discarded soda cans guarded by snarling dogs. It is an about an acre plot with a paved fenced-in area, run by a staff of earnest, plump, boiler-suited men. There are about a dozen open shipping containers; all are battered and rusting, labeled CARDBOARD, YARD WASTE, METAL, MIXED PAPER with other corners in the yard designated for HAZARDOUS WASTE, HOUSEHOLD ITEMS, and ELECTRONICS. We deposit our branches, and grass, and the paper yard waste bags appropriately, and within minutes we are on our way again. This time we are extending our adventure, and testing Luke’s bonhomie, and are going to take a joyride ride to a popular farmstand.

White’s is a crowd-pleasing Instagram presence, which accounts for its packed parking lot whenever we visit. Besides their seasonal flowers and produce, in true entreprenurial fashion, they also sell ice cream and have a massive play area for children – it is quite the happening place. All they lack is a signature artisanal cocktail.

This sunny September weekend the display tables, and a large field, are crammed with potted chrysanthemum plants. White, yellow, pink, purple, red, and orange plants are packed onto all the long wooden tables, and dozens of people are loading up their little red wagons with mums, pumpkins and tomatoes. We are no different: we snatch up 3 HUGE yellow mums, 2 reasonably-sized slicer tomatoes for end-of-the-summer sandwiches, and one small festive pumpkin for the kitchen table.

I will not mention pumpkin spices again until Thanksgiving, which is the only decent time of year to invoke those words, à la Beetlejuice. We will not be preparing pumpkins for human consuption just yet. And when we do, we will be delighted to re-discover that pumpkins are not just for Halloween decorations and Thanksgiving pie. But not yet. It will be time soon enough to expand our repertoires and use some of our local produce with seasonal gusto. Right now we need to enjoy the transition from the tediously long and blazingly hot summer to the relative coolth of September, when we can catch our breaths and await the arrival of Halloween. And eat tomato sandwiches.

We buzzed home to Luke, who seemingly napped while we were out. He never missed us, and he did not appreciate our beautiful mums and pumpkin trophies. He did enjoy eating a juicy red tomato wedge. Luke likes some farmstand finds. And Luke believes in shopping local, and taking your dog to the farmers’ market. Good dog, Luke!

“Pleased to meet you, I’m sure,” he observed as he sniffed round our ankles. “Excuse the noise, won’t you, but I have my job to do. Got to be careful who we let in, you know. But it’s a dull life and I’m really quite pleased to see a visitor. Dogs of your own, I fancy?”
― Agatha Christie

Tailgating season has begun, and the Spy Test Kitchens have been busy testing and tasting, planning and plotting, shopping and schlepping. It is a wonderful time of year, with the changing seasons, exciting sporting events, and all sorts of socializing which still feels like a huge relief after the COVID years. (But be sure to get your boosters and your flu shot – you don’t want to get sick and miss the big game.)

Some folks go to great lengths to have an Instagram-worthy tailgate event. Think Martha. Think color coordination. Think branding. I’d rather focus on some delicious food to share with friends. You’ll have to decide if you will prepare your foods in advance, or if you will be cooking on site. It’s tricky to pack all that grilling equipment, but experienced season ticket holders have personal systems for packing the car with all their food, grill, ice, cups, corn hole board and dog bowls. I admire their organizational skills.

The week before a tailgate I have Post Its sticking up everywhere, reminding me what I need to bring: cups, table cloth, paper towels, Wet Wipes, Off, plastic ware, plates, nibbles, buns, beer, fizzy water, Cokes, cupcakes, a pop-up tent, chairs, blankets, picnic basket, raincoats… It is an endless, ever-changing list.

Here is a more definitive check list of tailgate necessities:
Ice – in a cooler (which doubles as extra seating)
Folding table & camping chairs
Tablecloth (if you have a long table, consider using a fitted sheet)
Grill and lighter fluid (check the rules – be sure you can have an open flame)
Matches
Grilling utensils
Paper plates
Plastic utensils and cups
Napkins
Wipes and paper towels
Bottle opener and koozies
Trash bags
Beverages and mixers
Condiments
Water

Our Luke the wonder dog is always up for an outdoor adventure. He tried to figure out how to chase after a frisbee at a University of Florida tailgate, but he is more adept at, and much prefers, chasing his favorite ball, so I have to be remember to pack his Chuckit ball and launcher. And his bed – Luke is 14, and likes his canine comfort.

I try to keep the food simple, and make sandwiches ahead of time. Luke still dreams about the giant 8 ounce bacon burger he had at his Florida game. But we were all younger then, and foolish, and thought nothing about calories and heart health. Now is the time (for us humans, at any rate) to modify our behavior. One of my faves is a French ham and butter sandwich on a fresh baguette: baguette, ham, and lotsa good butter. What more could you need?

Perhaps a Pan Bagnat. I substitute chicken in mine, not being a huge tuna fan.
Pan Bagnat

We have even been known to stop by the grocery store deli counter to pick up a few ready made sandwiches before a game. So easy, so deelish. Food prepared by other people always seems to taste better. More tailgating sandwich ideas: Tailgate Sandwiches

Martha always has wonderful presentation, but Martha also has a staff of ambitious and talented Martha Wannabees. I do not have the stamina for a fully thematic tailgate. I might bake some football-themed cupcakes, but that is where my cleverness end. My energy wanes, and truly, my ideas for tailgate foods are the sorts of things we prepared for little boy birthday parties, not this sort of grand bon vivant gesture: Martha’s Game Day Recipes

I will pack up a warm platter of pigs-in-blankets and stuff it into a thermal bag, so they are still warm-ish as we socialize. Fresh, warm, soft pretzels are always gobbled up. Apples, veggie platters, charcuterie boards, barbecued chicken, cookies and Doritos go with us to the game, but very few ever come home again. The playful outdoor atmosphere leads to healthy appetites at a tailgate: Rule of Thumb – always bring more than you think you will need. And don’t forget your tickets to the game!

Garden & Gun’s Tailgating How Tos

Southern Living’s Tailgating Ideas

“I think baking cookies is equal to Queen Victoria running an empire. There’s no difference in how seriously you take the job, how seriously you approach your whole life.”
—Martha Stewart

I had to stop and gawp at this multi-color arrangement of carrots at our Food Lion the other day. It was not the usual pyramid of plastic bags of orange carrots – it was masterful – a veritable real life example of color theory. Someone had thoughtfully arranged fresh-from-the-field jewel-colored orange, tan, tangerine, ochre, marigold, pumpkin, copper, plum, mulberry, aubergine, wine and violet carrots under a mister in the produce department. Who needs Pantone color chips when the grocery store is just around the corner?

Imagine – carrots that come in colors other than Pantone Orange 021 U orange! I performed a very unscientific survey of what was available to me at the grocery store: I observed orange carrots that came in a clear plastic bag, with orange stripes printed on the outside to enhance the carrots’s color within. I found lopped-off-tops carrots not in plastic bags, that were about the same color orange as the bagged carrots. I discovered deeper orange carrots, but without the unnecessary, difficult-to-dispose-of plastic bag, that had not lost their green heads. And finally some organic carrots, without plastic, with tops, that were almost the color of radishes. Maybe an earthier red – almost a raspberry Jujube candy color. Guess which was sweeter? Yes, indeed, the Pantone 186 C.

You can slice, dice or cube carrots, juice them, shred them, boil them, grill, roast or braise them. Put them in soup, make carrot soup, shred and use in a cake, or in meatballs, or in meatloaf. The number of ways to use carrots is exhausting, as is the number of varieties: Carrots

The orange-colored carrot originated in the Netherlands. On my only trip to Amsterdam I was served a bowl of carrot soup – which was a mind-blowing experience to someone so unworldly, who was used to only eating carrots raw. When my first friend to be married chose a carrot cake for her wedding, we were astounded by her originality. Today we are just such blasé sophisticates that we are open to innovation and the dozens of ways to use carrots. Carrots aren’t just a root vegetable that we store and use as winter fuel. Add some color to your diets. Here is a free recipe from Dorie Greenspan via the New York Times for her insanely divine carrot cake: Carrot Cake

Bon Appétit has dozens of carrot-worthy ideas: BA Carrot Recipes

And so does delish: delish Carrot Recipes

As ever, Food52 knows exactly what to do with your fridge-ful of carrots: Food52 Carrot Recipes

I love eating raw vegetables. I cannot see much sense in stewing them to pulp – unless you are tossing them into soup. (And then they are easy to push to the side and ignore.) Always try to be the cook – then you can get your fill and the pick of the bounty. Luke the wonder dog has an affinity for carrots, too. Some nights we take turns: one carrot chunk for me, one for him, and one for the salad.

One of my favorite ways to prepare vegetables is roasting. Roasting at a high heat converts a plain vegetable into a delicious caramelized treat. You can roast any type of vegetable you want with this basic recipe. Adjust the amount of oil you use accordingly. We’ve roasted asparagus, garlic, squash, broccoli, potatoes, cauliflower, bell peppers, mushrooms, tomatoes, corn, carrots, zucchini, you name it.
Roasted Veggie Mélange
1.Preheat oven to 450° F.
2.Toss all the vegetables together in a large bowl with olive oil, salt, and pepper.
3.Divide the vegetables among two cookie sheets – mine have sides, for less spillage. Put fast cooking vegetables together, and group the slow cookers likewise. Fewer headaches!
4.Roast vegetables for 35-40 minutes, stirring every 15 minutes or so.

The vegetables cook quickly — some vegetables may take only 15 to 20 minutes — but they still have a chance to brown nicely on the outside by the time they become tender inside. So keep an eye on them. Carmelized onions are one thing, blackened and incinerated are another.

It’s very important that you cut the vegetables in pieces of about the same size. Unevenly sized pieces won’t roast and brown in the same amount of time, and you’ll end up with both over roasted and under roasted vegetables. And if you have any fussy eaters, you won’t be able to persuade them to enjoy the rich roasted flavors of fall, so be sure to have a back up reserve of deelish raw veggies.

“I never worry about diets. The only carrots that interest me are the number you get in a diamond.”
― Mae West

This is the Spy Test Kitchen’s favorite time of the year – when we pull out our annual sandwich ingredients list. Have an excellent school year!

I always loved that first day of school: new shoes, new notebooks, new pencils, and a pristine box of still-pointy, aromatic crayons. Though I always forgot about about my crippling anxiety about my locker combination. I never recalled the social implications of lunchroom seating during those leisurely summer hours, either. When I was a responsible parental-unit, I loved shopping for school supplies, and shoes, and new lunch boxes. It was only after the sun set on the night before school started that I confronted the horror: the woeful lack of organization in our lives.

While the young ’uns were setting out their new sneakers for the morning, and frantically paging through books that should have been read weeks before, I was peering into the fridge and taking stock of our jumble of foodstuffs. What nutritional and tempting combinations could I conjure that would actually be eaten? Once, when Mr. Sanders had been out of town for a very long business trip, we attempted to set a world’s record for eating pizza for every meal, for many days in a row. I understand that that sort of tomfoolery doesn’t set a good example nowadays with iPhones and social media.

Now all the cool kids have cute, eco-friendly, bento box lunch boxes, Mr. Sanders included. There are cunning little compartments for vegetables, for fruits, for proteins. Some people cut vegetables on Sunday afternoons, and put them in the fridge for easy access on school mornings. They roll up lettuce wraps, dice carrots, prepare tuna salad, bake muffins and stack little cups of applesauce. These people also involve their children in the lunch assembly process. Loathsome creatures… The despair I often felt in those dark, early mornings racing to get lunches made before the school bus arrived no longer exists, because now people are grown up and organized and thorough. And you can be, too.

While we are still leftover-dependent in this house, these folks know what to do about school lunch organization: Make Ahead Lunches

A handy guide to Sunday night preps: Make Ahead Prep And at Food52, the ever-clever Amanda always has some really fab lunch ideas. Amanda’s Clever Lunch Ideas

And now, with shameless drumroll, is the Spy Test Kitchen lunch list, which I haul out, shamelessly, every fall. Feel free to make your own spreadsheet, Google Doc or PowerPoint deck so you never have another moment of lunch ennui. The Test Kitchen came up with this flexible list of ingredients for packing school lunches a few years ago.
It is just as timely today:
Luncheon Variations

Column A
Let’s start with bread:
Ciabatta bread
Rye bread
Whole grain breads
Hard rolls
Portuguese rolls
French baguette
s
Italian bread
Brioche
 rolls
Flour tortillas
Croissants
Bagels
Challah bread
Crostini
Cornbread
Naan bread
Focaccia bread
Pita bread
If storing overnight, layer bread with lettuce first, then add the spreads, to keep sandwich from getting soggy.

Column B
Next, the spread:
Mayo
Sriracha
Ketchup
Dijon mustard
Honey mustard
Italian dressing
Russian dressing
Cranberry sauce
Pesto sauce
Hummus
Tapenade
Sour cream
Chutney
Butter
Hot sauce
Salsa
Salsa verde

Column C
Cheeses:
Swiss cheese
American cheese
Mozzarella
Blue cheese
Cream cheese
Havarti cheese
Ricotta cheese
Cheddar cheese
Provolone cheese
Brie cheese
Cottage cheese
Goat cheese

Column D
The main ingredient:
Meatloaf
Turkey
Chicken
Corned beef
Bacon
Crumbled hard-boiled eggs
Scrambled eggs
Corned beef
Salami
Italian sausage
Ham
Roast beef
Egg salad
Tuna salad
Ham salad
Crab salad
Shrimp salad
Chicken salad
Turkey salad
Lobster salad
Tofu

Column E
The decorative (and tasty) elements:
Tomatoes
Lettuce
Basil
Onion
Avocado
Cucumber
Cilantro
Shredded carrots
Jalapeños
Cole slaw
Sliced apples
Sliced red peppers
Arugula
Sprouts
Radicchio
Watercress
Sliced pears
Apricots
Pickles
Spinach
Artichoke hearts
Grapes
Strawberries
Figs

Column F
Finger foods:
Cherries
Carrots
Strawberries
Green Beans
Broccoli
Celery
Edamame
Granola
Rice cakes
Apples
Bananas
Oranges
Melon balls
Raisins
Broccoli
Radishes
Blueberries

And because we live in a time of modern miracles, there are even apps for your phone so you can plan lunches ahead of time. Ingenious! LaLa Lunchbox and Little Lunches are among many apps.

“ ‘We could take our lunch,’ said Katherine.‘What kind of sandwiches?’ said Mark. ‘Jam,’ said Martha thoughtfully, ‘and peanut-butter-and-banana, and cream-cheese-and-honey, and date-and-nut, and prune-and-marshmallow…’”
—Edward Eager

This chicken recipe is truly amazing: it is easy, it is delicious, it cooks in practically no time, and takes care of those last few wrinkly cherry tomatoes you have rolling around on the kitchen windowsill. You will be pleased with yourself (most importantly) and you will have a new dish to add to your repertoire. Pay attention, class: 3-Minute Chicken.

I found this recipe on Food52 where they specialize in genius ideas. Food52 also encourages home cooks’ creativity and improvisation. The original recipe called for mint and a ball of fresh burrata cheese. I improvised, and substituted basil and fresh mozarella.

I know for a fact that we don’t ever have fresh mint, unless it is the week just after the Kentucky Derby, and I haven’t yet killed the mint plant I rooted from cuttings left from our Derby mint julep celebration. Usually by mid-June all I have is a sad, crispy sprig languishing in a neglected pot. And here it is, August. Right now we do have a healthy basil farm – this has been a great year for both basil and hydrangeas – and for once we have an abundance of splendidly aromatic basil, and vases full of clouds of hydrangeas. Maybe we finally have had enough rain.

Burrata, though it is creamy and delicious, is hard to find, and tends to be expensive. It is at the top of our permanent shopping list for our infrequent field trips to Trader Joe’s. This is our standard list: Trader Joe’s Premium Extra Virgin Olive Oil, Trader Joe’s Movie Theatre Popcorn, Trader Joe’s Reserve Meritage Paso Robles 2021 Red Wine (deelish, and only $10!), burratta, and depending on what is blooming in the back yard, an armful of fresh flowers.

These days even our humble Food Lion carries fresh mozzarella, so I think I can make this cheese substitution with impunity. I will try this recipe again with the proper ingredients after our next trip to TJ’s, when I can stock up on fresh mint, too.

Mr. Sanders loves to pour through cook books and find complicated, multi-step recipes for dinner. I guess he welcomes a challenge. Except for ritual holiday fare, I tend to opt for simple, no-recipe dinners. I like plain, roasted chicken and rice, and he is more of a Coq au Vin cook. I like Martha’s One-Pan Pasta and he opts for Marcella Hazan’s butter pasta sauce

One of my favorite meals in our rotation is a variation on chicken schnitzel – I take a boneless chicken breast and halve it carefully with the super sharp boning knife, carefully avoiding my fingers. Then I pound it mercilessly with the rolling pin, while it is sandwiched between heavy duty gallon-size Baggies, so I don’t spray chicken bits and/or salmonella all over the kitchen. After pounding the chicken I dip it in flour, egg and then plain panko bread crumbs. I fry it crisp and crunchy in a pan with oil and butter. That takes about 10 minutes, and gets 3 breading pans, 2 plates, and 1 frying pan dirty. Not to mention the stove top and the backsplash…

On the other hand, the 3-minute chicken first calls for broiling the tomatoes until they char and blister. But that is an easy peasy clean up – you can line a cookie sheet with aluminum foil to keep everything clean and shiny. 3-minute chicken requires no breading – so already you are saving time on that messy clean up. Once the chicken is pounded you can toss it into the oil. Quick – turn the chicken in about a minute, or a minute and a half. In a bowl, combine the blistered tomatoes, torn chunks of mozzarella cheese and the basil leaves. I added some garlic, because because because olive oil and basil need garlic. Though it is your choice. Now get your dinner plates out.

Plate the chicken, cover it with the tomato, basil and mozzarella mixture. Add rice to the side. Or add some buttered pasta. Mr. Sanders would probably have dreamed up a multi-pronged approach, and prepared fettuccine Alfredo with pancetta and peas with aged (though freshly grated) parmigiano reggiano and asparagus as his side dish. But I have walked 10,000 steps with Luke the wonder dog already today, and don’t need to prove myself. Although I will add a green salad, maybe some crusty bread, candles, and a chilled glass of cheap Chardonnay. After dinner, load your plates in the dishwasher, scrub the frying pan, and throw away the aluminum foil. You have plenty of time for Industry, and a second glass of wine. Thanks, @Food52! You saved the day!

“Someone once asked Dad: “But what do you want to save time for? What are you going to do with it?” “For work, if you love that best,” said Dad. “For education, for beauty, for art, for pleasure.” He looked over the top of his pince-nez. “For mumblety-peg, if that’s where your heart lies.”
― Ernestine Gilbreth Carey

Have you noticed the breath of coolth in the morning? The heat of the summer is taking a short break and you have got to step away from your screens to revel in it. Hurricane season is always mercurial. Let’s make hay this weekend before we expire from the heat next week. It’s the perfect time to make gazpacho.

Gazpacho was made originally without tomatoes, because tomatoes and green peppers didn’t grow in Europe until the sixteenth century, when these New World vegetables introduced. Today gazpacho is considered “an uncooked mixture of tomatoes, garlic, olive oil, water, vinegar, onions, cucumbers, and green peppers, thickened with bread crumbs.” I tend to toss in anything that is ripe, or about to be over-ripe. Gazpacho

We have so many impulsive farmers’ market buys crammed in the kitchen right now. There is not enough time to slice up all of the plump heirloom tomatoes for classic tomato sandwiches. I am going to have to toss a few into the blender for expediency. Zucchini will be cropping up soon, too. It is best to add them to the blender fast, before anyone notices how many have suddenly crossed our threshold. And all of the corn! And watermelon. Yikes.

Walk out onto the front porch with your book and relax this afternoon. Tonight you are going to whip up a batch of gazpacho, gentle readers. Because at this time of the year you have got all the fixings in your fridge, or right there on your kitchen windowsill. You do NOT need to go to the grocery store, I promise you. This is not a tricky damn woo Martha recipe, where you need organic, extra-virgin, artisanal walnut oil, freshly pressed by silent Trappist monks. Even I have all this stuff, and usually I am only good for Triscuits, hard bits of Cheddar cheese and cheap white wine. (This summer there is a bottle of vodka stashed in the freezer. Shhh.)

Stick your head in the fridge. What do you see? I see Vidalia onions, half of a cucumber, a bowl of watermelon chunks, some limes, green peppers, radishes, V-8 juice and Tobasco sauce. There is an assortment of ripening tomatoes, a bale of basil, and a poor sad, store-bought parsley plant struggling on the kitchen windowsill. And bread! The bread collection in the freezer yields a goodish loaf of last week’s foccaccia bread. Perfecto! In the cupboard I find olive oil and a big old can of Marzano tomatoes – in case we need to stretch the recipe, and make enough to serve for lunch tomorrow.

Gazpacho is exceptionally versatile. It can be a soup, a dip, or a cocktail. I am opting for the cocktail, because it is Friday, after all. I don’t need to work up a sweat tonight, and neither do you! It’s going to be a perfect evening to sit out on the back porch with Mr. Sanders, and marvel at how summer sped by so fast. It seems like only yesterday we were “Ooohing,” and “Ahhhing,” the Fourth of July fireworks, and now school is just about to start…

Grab a bag of Doritos (ours might be a little stale, sorry) and pour some gazpacho in a bowl and drop it on the table next to the porch swing. Excuse yourself for a few minutes. Luke the wonder dog is good for entertaining people because he always wants to chase the ball. Hours (and hours) of endless amusement for him…

Thaw and soak the bread, peel, chop, slice and dice your vegetables, and then whip them up in the blender, or with your food processor. Chunky – great for dip. Slurpy – good for soup. Smooth – get out the straws and the vodka.

Gazpacho Andaluz

Watermelon Gazpacho

Gazpacho Salad

“Again and again, the cicada’s untiring cry pierced the sultry summer air like a needle at work on thick cotton cloth.”
― Yukio Mishima

August is National Peach Month. The world’s largest peach is in Gaffney, South Carolina. It’s the town’s water tower built in the shape of a peach. I took photos of it on one of our road trips – it is quite impressive. And now it is a landmark I look forward to, along with sightings of the South of the Border tower in Hamer, South Carolina and the giant King Kong swinging from the not-so-tall-skyscraper at the Hollywood Wax Museum in Myrtle Beach. I am such a tourist. Who knew that South Carolina has so much to offer in tasteful and educational roadside attractions? But I digress. Peaches.

Summer is the time for juicy watermelon, thick tomato sandwiches, and dripping peaches. How can you appreciate a peach unless you feel the velvety skin with your own sticky fingers? If you haven’t had peach juice run down the front of your shirt, you have not had a satisfactory summer experience.
We have started counting down to the first day of school, the beginning of fall, the leaves turning, Labor Day, and a break in the weather. Hurricane Debby is pelting down rain as I type this today. Across the street, our neighbor’s front yard has slowly turned into Lake Michigan. And yet, it is still 82°F. As ever, torpid, slow moving August seems like the longest month. Spare me the pumpkin-spiced items that are popping up already. Stop with the displays of Halloween candy. It’s still August. Who can stomach candy corn when it is still National Peach Month?

Mr. Sanders and I wandered through our farmers’ market last Saturday, buying an assortment of colorful heirloom tomatoes and warm, fuzzy peaches. It looks like it has been a bountiful peach season despite the record-breaking heat. The cheerful highway sunflowers are in bloom and the crape myrtles are nodding in their ruffled glory. As luck would have it, peaches, tomatoes and basil all make deelish salads, some of which don’t require much effort on my part beyond slicing, which is good because it has been so relentlessly hot that I have taken to napping in the afternoon. It has even been too hot for Luke the wonder dog to go for an afternoon walk. Last night he had a twilight stroll around the block, once the sidewalk had cooled, and the fireflies lighted the way.

Our clever friends at Food52 have the perfect recipe for all those peaches and tomatoes; they call it the “supreme salad of summer.” It is lighter and tangier than the Caprese salads we have started to take for granted; no heavy, slick balsamic vinegar, instead, they use a tart apple vinaigrette. Tomato, Peach, Chèvre, and Herb Salad with Apple Vinaigrette.

The goat cheese is lighter than fresh mozzarella, and has a little kick. Not that I will ever completely tire of Caprese salads, but I can always use another cool, easy-to-assemble, no-recipe-needed dinner. The shallot is pretty, and tasty, too. The chèvre was a challenge to find in our little grocery store, since we do not live in Brooklyn or Paris, but I was able to score a package, tucked away in the deli department. Be persistent! (I also used Heinz apple cider vinegar, not fancy-pants vinegar from Williams Sonoma, as the recipe suggests. We are on a budget.)

Martha suggests a Peach Panzanella, which I heartily endorse. I happen to have some day-old foccacia that will pair beautifully with the sweet peaches. Peach Panzanella. I am going to toss in a few farmers’ market-bought heirloom tomatoes, too.

Light, cool cheeses help vary summer meals. I love burrata cheese, but it is hideously expensive (unless you are lucky enough to live near a Trader Joe’s), and you have to use it up in mere minutes. It does not do well staying in the fridge; bring it home, eat it up. So plan on an early supper tonight. And get some great bread for grilling. I like to rub a garlic clove over the surface of the grilled bread , after it has cooled a little. Yumsters. This is a meal fit for your Parisian fantasy: warm tomatoes, peaches and bread, with mouthfuls of cool, creamy burrata. Add a nice glass of cheap white wine. A veritable feast.
Tomato Peach Burrata Salad

Here’s an idea — Peach Salsa:

4 peaches, peeled and pitted
2 large tomatoes, cut into wedges and seeded
½ sweet onion, cut into wedges
½ cup fresh cilantro leaves
2 garlic cloves, peeled and sliced
1 cup of chopped peppers – you choose whether to add jalapeño
4 teaspoons cider vinegar
1 teaspoon lime juice
¼ teaspoon pepper

Combine the peaches, tomatoes, onion, cilantro, and garlic in a food processor or blender. Pulse until satisfactorily chopped.
Add chilies, vinegar, lime juice and pepper and pulse again until well combined. Transfer to an airtight container and chill until ready to serve. Yields 4 cups. Add warm chips. Top up your tacos. Use over grilled chicken. Bliss!

In honor of National Peach Month Mr. Sanders and I recently shared a plate of lightly grilled peaches and tomatoes, doused with olive oil and dotted with soft clots of bleu cheese. Yumsters. Such a tasty appetizer or light dinner. All those fit and toned athletes at the Olympics have shamed us – there is only one helping served these hot summer nights. Saturday night we splashed out though, when we grilled peaches and tomatoes, chunked some fresh mozzarella, and drizzled a homemade vinaigrette dressing over plates of crisp arugula. Then we grilled small filets and roasted some tiny potatoes for our main course. And then, yes, we had small (oh, so tiny!) bowls of vanilla ice cream, topped with tender, golden slices of peach. I was never destined to hurl my plump self over the uneven parallel bars; I must accept that.

Mr. Sanders sliced half a peach onto his bowl of cold twiggy cereal this morning, leaving the other half for me on the cutting board. I ate it over the sink, because the juices dripped furiously and there wasn’t anyone around who would point out that I should have been ladylike and used a napkin. Don’t neglect any opportunity to just seize the day, and a peach, early, and eat it in your own free-spirited summer fashion.

“The people that I liked and had not met went to the big cafes because they were lost in them and no one noticed them and they could be alone in them and be together.”
― Ernest Hemingway