This is a summer rerun – Mr. Sanders and I have deposited Luke the wonder dog at the dog spa, and we are headed for cooler climes. Happy summer!

I love the simplicity of summer cooking, but, as you know, my personal summertime philosophy is to send as much of the cooking outdoors with Mr. Sanders and his grill, as often as I possibly can, without seeming churlish. I need to figure out what dishes I can bring inside, without compromising myself. And that is why I looked into what the cast-iron frying pan can do.

Instead of wandering aimlessly around the internet, and relying on my favorite hangouts at Food52 or Bon Appétit, I thumbed through some of my actual printed cookbooks for some ideas. One of my batter-flecked, cracked-spine cookbooks provides me with hours of entertainment: The Southerner’s Cookbook: Recipes, Wisdom, and Stories From the Editors of Garden & Gun. These are well-researched recipes, which are kitchen-tested, as well as being traditional and time-tested.

I want to enjoy sweet corn for the rest of the summer, or as long as our farmers’ market sells it. Here is a great recipe from Garden & Gun for Cast-Iron Charred Corn:
8 ears of corn, husks and silk removed
1/4 cup finely diced bacon
1/2 tablespoon unsalted butter
1/2 cup minced Vidalia onion
1/2 cup heavy cream
1/2 teaspoon kosher salt
Freshly ground black pepper
1 teaspoon minced fresh chives

To removed the corn kernels, cut off the ends of each ear to make flat surfaces. One at a time, stand the ears in a wide casserole dish and carefully cut down the sides with a sharp knife. Next, hold each cob over a bowl and scrape the back edge of the knife to remove the “milk”. Discard the milked ears and set liquid aside.
Place a cast-iron skillet over medium-high eat. Add the cut corn kernels to the pan and cook for 2 to 3 minutes, tossing occasionally. Add the bacon and continue to cook until the kernels are slightly charred and the bacon begins to crisp, about 5 minutes, stirring occasionally. Remove from heat and set aside.
In a medium saucepan, melt the butter over medium-low heat. Add the onion and cook until softened, 3 to 5 minutes. Add the corn “milk”, the charred corn and bacon mixture, and the cream. Reduce the heat to low and cook, stirring often, for 4 to 5 minutes. Season with salt and pepper. Sprinkle with the chives and serve hot. And now you will never need to read the recipe again. You can add this to your summer side dish rotation, but it can also ease you into fall.

Oh, look! It’s also available online: Cast Iron Charred Corn

We’ve also got to give the Food52 city slickers their due: Food52 Fried Corn with Bacon

I like to steam corn-on-the-cob in a big pot, with just an inch of water, and a collapsible metal vegetable steamer. If we have a crowd I use the big lobster steamer pot. This is a highly theatrical production, full of drama and steamy special effects. On the other hand, Mr. Sanders prefers giving corn the outdoor treatment – he wraps the ears of corn in great sails of aluminum foil, dotted with gobs of butter, which he then tosses onto the sizzling grill. I suspect he is reliving Boy Scout camping trips. Some of the corn must be burnt and charred, just in case you wondered how to tell it was done.
Grilled Corn

I love the idea of using raw everything. I make this early in the day, and let it steep in the fridge, becoming more flavorful by the moment as we lope along toward dinner. No fuss, no muss. And it uses local produce, thus reducing my carbon footprint. This means I have been virtuous enough for one day, and now we can use the blender to whip up a few frozen cocktails before dinner.

Amagansett Corn Salad
Serves 4
8 ears of white corn
2 quarts cherry tomatoes
3 tablespoons balsamic vinegar
1 medium red onion
(Optional)
1 quart sugar snap peas
(Optional)
1 handful rough-chopped basil or flat-leaf parsley
Salt, pepper

1. Strip raw corn from ears. Yep, raw. You can use a fancy corn stripper or just run your chef’s knife down the side of each ear about 8 times.
2. Slice all cherry tomatoes in half or quarters depending on your preference.
3. Chop the red onion into a large dice.
4. If using the sugar-snap peas (they can be hard to find when the corn and tomatoes are available — their seasons barely overlap, and even then you’re likely getting corn and tomatoes from the south and sugar snaps from the North.) Anyway, if using them, cut in half or thirds to make more bite-sized. If you’re not using them, and you want a little green for visual appeal, some rough chopped basil or flat-leaf parsley will do the trick.
5. Toss all vegetables in a bowl, along with the vinegar, salt and pepper.
Add a crusty loaf of warm peasant bread, with some fresh sweet butter and a nice cold, crisp, cheap white wine. It is a perfect, light summer meal. We can use some leftover corn salad tossed with elbow macaroni and oil and vinegar for lunch the next day. Two meals, one prep — equals perfection. Yumsters!

“A light wind swept over the corn, and all nature laughed in the sunshine.”
— Anne Brontë

Jean Dixon Sanders has been a painter and graphic designer for the past 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.

While I know I tend to whine about the summer heat and humidity, I am keenly aware that it is the peak of the growing season for some of our favorite foods. Soon we will be able to hunt and gather our locally grown tomatoes and corn. And then it will be time for all the wretched pumpkin-spice-flavored everything. Right now I am preparing to indulge it a glut of tomato goodness.

Last weekend we made a delightfully spicy tomato pasta dish with local cherry tomatoes. Come fall I am hoping it will taste as good, and feel as warming as the scorching days of July. Later, in December, all we have to choose from will be hot house tomatoes, or those trucked in from California for a king’s ransom, and a guilt-inducing carbon footprint. Maybe this recipe will improve those sad, grocery store-bought tomatoes. Mr. Sanders said that he preferred it to Martha’s One-Dish Pasta, which is in our regular summer rotation for Monday night pasta dinners. This is good dish to add to that rotation, albeit one with a more autumnal vibe. Plus you get to use four cloves of garlic. Yumsters!

Pasta with Simple Cherry Tomato Sauce

Our friends at Food52 find a million ways to make a very simple tomato sandwich. Here, in the Spy Test Kitchens, we use Pepperidge Farm white bread, Hellmann’s Mayonnaise, a pinch of black pepper, a shake of Maldon salt and a couple of big, fat locally sourced slicing tomatoes, with a generous handful of potato chips as an elegant side dish. Follow your heart: Tomato Sandwich

The Spy Test Kitchen’s Caprese Salad – a suggestion

2 large ripe tomatoes — and this week you can go nuts with all the colorful heirloom tomatoes that abound
2 small balls fresh mozzarella — or you can just revel in as much cheese as you can lay your hands on
Sea salt and black pepper— we like Maldon, great fistsful of it
Olive oil — splash it on with abandon
Balsamic vinegar — not my fave, but Mr. Sanders loves lashings of it
A pile of basil — whatever you have on the windowsill, or from the container garden — it’s the sweet pungent smell of summer

Slice the tomatoes and mozzarella into thick slices. Arrange picturesquely on a platter or large plate, alternating tomato slices and mozzarella. Add salt and pepper, drizzle with beauteous chartreuse green olive oil, and delicate Pollock-esque drips of balsamic vinegar, scatter torn basil across the surface. Add fresh crusty bread and cool glasses of Vinho Verde, some candles, and Pink Martini on the Sonos. It’s not the Amalfi coast, but for a stinking hot summer’s night here in the States, it’s as close as we can get.

Once again our home-grown tomatoes are proving to be a disappointment. Could it be neglect? I haven’t gone out to weed much this summer. Between the mosquitoes in the back yard and all the heat, I could rationalize endlessly, and I can also state firmly and with great conviction that we are not anticipating much of a harvest. So far, our yield has been four tiny, anemic, grainy, bitsy, Tom’s Big Boys. The squirrels have been paying more attention to the raised bed garden this summer than I have. I admit defeat now, and I wish them the very best. I and hope that they will enjoy their own squirrelly-boy tomato feasts. I’m heading downtown to the farmers’ market this weekend to stock up on heirloom tomatoes and peaches. Luckily we can celebrate buying local: Buy Local Challenge Maybe I will get another basil plant for the kitchen windowsill, too. There will be lotsa tomato meals in our immediate future. August yawns ahead.

Stay cool! Hydrate! Read books! Buy local!

“Danger is to adventure what garlic is to spaghetti sauce. Without it, you just end up with stewed tomatoes.”
—Tom Robbins

Jean Dixon Sanders has been a painter and graphic designer for the past 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.

What a stinker of a week! The heat dome has been pressing down on us all this week, with temperatures in the high 90s. Sometimes I miss our old house in Florida, which had a pool. It was nice to slip into it to cool down – although though much of the summer it was about as refreshing as a vast steaming tub of chicken soup with rice. Forget about frying an egg on the sidewalk, you could coddle an egg in our pool. This week I bet it is has been about as refreshing as a sous vide. As I do not want to perform self-immolation, I am staying inside and am continuing my dogged pursuit of preparing meals that I do not need to cook.

Mr. Sanders and I have four humble tomato plants that are thriving in this semi-tropical heat wave. They are growing in the small raised bed in our side yard, happily sharing the limited space with a generous side salad of weeds and self-sown cosmos, the remnants of last year’s wild flower experiment. The tomato plants currently are bedecked with half a dozen dangling rosy, adolescent slicing tomatoes, and several more yellow blossoms. I look forward to their harvest. I brought one tiny tomato victim inside to ripen on the kitchen windowsill, after I inadvertently knocked it to the ground while wrangling the reluctant branches of one plant into a tomato cage. Like a New Yorker cartoon, it ripened slowly, had one day of peak perfection when I should have gobbled it up, because the next day there was a sodden goopy mess of seeds and pulp on the sill. There are so many tragedies born from a garden. Take heed!

This summer lasagna does require the bare minimum of cooking time – but no baking – so you can serve its colorful deliciousness without self-immolating or assuming the mantle of cooking martyr: No-Bake Lasagne And it will also serve to blunt the myriad zuccini later this summer.

This recipe does require an oven, but barely, just barely. I suggest sitting at the far end of the table, away from the oven, and have a nice cool tumbler of cheap white wine at the ready. Tomato Pie

This tomato pie requires an oven, my apologies, but it also brings Laurie Colwin into your kitchen, and that is a wonderful thing: Laurie Colwin’s Tomato Pie

I had a good chuckle over the descriptive headline in the New York Times Wednesday: No Cook Chicken and Cucumber Salad. Ick. They were not thinking, clearly. The proper name for the recipe is Smashed Cucumber and Chicken Salad. And you will have to venture out in the heat to buy a rotisserie chicken, and your cheap white wine. So I apologize for your exposure to the heat as you dash across the melting parking lot to COSTCO or the grocery store. Stock up so you don’t have to venture out again for a few days, maybe the weather will change. I see rain in the forecast for next week – just in time for the Fourth. Naturally.
Smashed Cucumber and Chicken Salad

Here is another New York Times freebie for your cool summer dining pleasure: Pasta Salad There is nothing like a big pasta salad sitting, marinating, percolating in your fridge. It is money in the bank, and a relief for everyone: fresh herbs, spices, oodles of olive oil, pasta, tomatoes, fresh mozzarella, cukes, olives, onion and basil. Add some fresh bread, cool butter, and summer tunes. There is lunch, dinner, something to bring to your Fourth of July potluck; something for everyone.

The Spy Test Kitchens and Luke the wonder dog are taking the Fourth off. I hope we are not all still hiding inside, avoiding nature and the heat, and we wish you a very happy holiday! Stay cool! Don’t waste any tomatoes! Eat Popsicles!

“A world without tomatoes is like a string quartet without violins.”
—Laurie Colwin

Jean Dixon Sanders has been a painter and graphic designer for the past 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.

The past week has been alarmingly hot — there have been a few days where it felt like a 3-alarm furnace already, and summer has just begun today. We’ve had Florida-grade afternoon rainstorms, too, with enormous thunderheads and chiaroscuro drama in the sky. What are August and full-bore hurricane season going to feel like? The hydrangeas love the rain, but wilt again the minute the sun comes out. It has been a trial to walk with Luke the wonder dog. The heat of the afternoons has slowed down his pace and we don’t cover the distances we usually trot during cooler months. It’s time for us to change our routine, which means less time in front of the stove, and more time peeling grapes, pitting peaches, slicing watermelon, cubing cantaloupes, and eating popsicles.

Nothing perfectly symbolizes summer like a watermelon. The best ones are cool and sweet, dripping with juices, seeds, and dreams of summer vacations. I still cling to the memories of sitting on the back porch steps, spitting watermelon seeds back at my brother. Those are high quality memories of an un-air-conditioned house, where we were outside, waiting for the fireflies start twinkling on and off near the forsythia bushes. It was summer, and we were amusing each other. Finally I could get my brother back for for being taller, older and more sophisticated. He could sink a basketball, shoot rubber bands, flip baseball cards and catch pop balls much better than I ever could. But I could aim and deliver a watermelon seed with deadly accuracy. At short range, at least. And sitting on the back steps, keeping the sticky, dripping watermelon juice outside, away from parental oversight, was the perfect spot for getting even. Tempus does indeed fugit. My brother and I are not likely to try to even up the score with watermelon seeds these days. Now we tend to be very kind to one another. Whoever came upon the devilish idea of creating seedless watermelons was never a child. I must remember to thank my brother for patiently teaching me to attach baseball cards to my bike spokes, though. Another excellent summer activity.

This is a fabulous idea for some cool self-care; a summertime watermelon treat: Frozen Watermelon https://www.instagram.com/p/DKzxkQOJS1e/ I’m not sure that you need the honey – watermelon is sweetness perfected. Here are some other gratinas

This is my kind of recipe:


Watermelon Gazpacho Salad
4 cups cubed, seeded watermelon
1/4 cup minced fresh cilantro
1 pint cherry tomatoes, quartered
1 small yellow bell pepper, chopped
1 jalapeno, seeded and minced
1/2 medium cucumber, peeled, seeded, and sliced
2 tablespoons olive oil
1 tablespoon red wine vinegar
1/2 teaspoon kosher salt
1/4 teaspoon ground cumin
1/2 cup crumbled queso fresco cheese, optional

Combine watermelon, cilantro, cherry tomatoes, cucumber, bell pepper, and jalapeno in a large bowl. Whisk together olive oil, vinegar, salt, and cumin; drizzle over watermelon mixture and toss gently. Cover and refrigerate 1 hour. Sprinkle with cheese before serving, if using. Makes 4.

It never occurred to me that watermelon could be grilled, let alone paired with tomatoes. What have I been thinking? It is summer, and the watermelons and tomatoes are ripe. At least I have the homegrown tomatoes and basil to contribute to the recipe, along with my basic, farm stand watermelon. It’s not fancy, just delicious. Let the summer games begin!

Matthew Raiford’s Watermelon Steak Salad with Heirloom Tomatoes and Sangria Vinaigrette

If you don’t want to grill your watermelon, here is another recipe for tomato and watermelon salad

Here is a handy dandy list list of summer fruits. Treat yourself! Do it for Luke.

Summer Fruits:
Blueberries
Strawberries
Raspberries
Blackberries
Cantaloupe
Honeydew melon
Nectarines
Peaches
Sour cherries
Watermelon
Apricots
Plums

“Taste every fruit of every tree in the garden at least once. It is an insult to creation not to experience it fully. Temperance is wickedness.”
—Stephen Fry

Jean Dixon Sanders has been a painter and graphic designer for the past 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.

Anthony Bourdain said: “Everyone should know how to roast a chicken. It’s a life skill that should be taught to small children at school.” Roasted chicken is just the beginning.

I love chicken. It’s not fancy. It does not need to be complex. It is steady and reliable. It is a blank canvas, ready to take on your vision. It is ready to nurture your fragile soul. It is adaptable, versatile and eager to please. We are rather fond of roasted chicken, grilled chicken, chicken Schnitzel, fried chicken, stir-fried chicken and barbecued chicken. Not to mention chicken Marsala, chicken piccata, chicken kabobs, chicken salad, chicken tacos, chicken and waffles, and chicken pot pie.

Growing up my favorite birthday dinner was baked chicken and rice, which was reliably crisp, juicy and delicious. I knew the dangers of the summertime grilled chicken legs, that my father always nearly incinerated on the back yard hibachi grill, that were blackened and juicy and scalding hot, but I happily gnawed away at them anyway, gingerly, with newly seared fingertips. On family summer vacations I would eat all the Howard Johnson’s crunchy fried chicken I could get. In college I was a reliably cheap date, because I would always order the chicken.

During the summer months, which are rapidly approaching, I like to delegate as much of the cooking as I can, as you well know, to the back yard grill and Mr. Sanders. I contribute cold drinks, basting brushes and unsolicited advice. The least I can do is help with thoughtful meal suggestions and some of the prep work. Naturally chicken tends to be the first protein that springs to mind. And what can be more fun than food on a stick?

It’s the perfect time for kabobs! Kabobs have something for everybody. Vegetables! Meat! Dangerous pointy sticks! Charred summer food is just the best. You can thread chicken and veggies on a skewer, or you could try beef or pork. Or even tofu: Tofu Kabobs Chicken Kabobs It is al fresco dining at its zenith; redolent with flavor, and hints of danger.

Preparing kabobs is a grand way to empty out some of the crisper drawer, and reduce your sad collection of tired peppers, onions, cherry tomatoes, mushrooms, zucchini, and even Brussels sprouts. There might even be cruciferous vegetables aficionados among us who will insist on including clumps of broccolini. Be that way. Don’t take my word for it, but you can trust our clever friends at Food52: Veggie kabobs

You can prepare delightful all-vegetable kabobs for your vegetarians, and cook them side-by-side with the meat-laced skewers for the omnivores in your life. In one fell swoop you can simplify meal prep. Sometimes, with the young and opinionated, you will have to be careful about what kabob items are touching. There are plenty of variations, and you can please your pickiest eater: Grilled Kabobs

It is a week until the summer solstice. We are dancing between afternoon thunderstorms this week – next week we will be ready for summer celebrations. Bring on the sunscreen, the Off!, the frosty beer, and chicken on a stick. Yumsters.

“There was shish-kabob for lunch, huge, savory hunks of spitted meat sizzling like the devil over charcoal after marinating seventy-two hours in a secret mixture Milo had stolen from a crooked trader in the Levant, served with Iranian rice and asparagus tips Parmesan, followed by cherries jubilee for dessert and then steaming cups of fresh coffee with Benedictine and brandy.”
― Joseph Heller

Jean Dixon Sanders has been a painter and graphic designer for the past 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.