Fine dining when I was growing up meant a trip to Pellicci’s Restaurant. Pellicci’s was (and is) a family-run, red sauce, red and white tablecloth Italian place. We were allowed to order orange sodas, and we learned how to twirl spaghetti with forks in enormous soup spoons there. Sometimes, when my father was feeling flush, he would order an antipasto salad which we shared among us. He would eat the exotic rolled slices of pepperoni and salami, and the olives. My brother and I ate the radish roses and the celery sticks. My mother would sample the rolled cheeses and breadsticks. There was something for everyone; just a little taste to hone our appetites for the enormous plates of spaghetti to come.

These days charcuterie boards are like the old antipastos, except even bigger, with more types of foods. Your family could eat well while sharing one, without ever needing the bowl of steaming pasta and meatballs. I like doing a charcuterie board when I can find an excuse not to cook, which is often: too hot, too cold, too tired, too lazy, out of ideas, running late, ooops, you thought we’d be eating dinner, again? This is when it pays to plan, just a little bit, for any emergency. There is always a little stash of charcuterie treats in the fridge. Cheese, olives, pepperoni, celery, and radishes have long shelf lives. We don’t often have TV dinners, but this is a good one. Add some cheap white wine, a locally crafted beer, or even some orange soda- live large.

“Charcuterie” refers to the preparation of cured meats, like prosciutto, pancetta, speck, salami, summer sausage, chorizo or pepperoni. It is an all-encompassing term nowadays, meats, a variety of cheeses, pâté, crackers, nuts, fruits and vegetables, and mustards, hummus and dipping sauces. Some people prepare beautiful charcuterie boards. https://tastesbetterfromscratch.com/charcuterie-board/

There are guides you can find for pleasing arrangements of comestibles. Please promise me that you can figure this out for yourselves, that you don’t need to send $1.50 through PayPal for this: https://www.etsy.com/listing/1164392348/charcuterie-png-jpeg-file-charcuterie? I have even seen manufactured charcuterie boards with designated, labeled areas for each food type. Heavens to Betsy!
https://www.sophistiplate.com/products/waiting-on-martha-build-your-own-cheese-charcuterie-board-16-x-12-maple-wood?

Do not spend your hard-earned money on that. If you need ideas, and you want to spend money, go to your favorite independent book store and buy a cookbook or two.

And decide what foods will appeal to your audience. The under-12 set will not notice your carefully-arranged-by-region array of imported meats and cheeses. They’ll be gobbling the pigs-in-blankets and grapes and Goldfish. Your book club might care if you have recreated a spread from Eat, Drink, Pray, Love, but they will be drinking your wine, too. Mr. Sanders likes fancy hams and sausages and nicely toasted rounds of garlic bread, good Kalamata olives and and shaved Parmesan, or maybe a little bruschetta, with crumbles of feta cheese falling to the floor to the absolute delight of Luke the wonder dog. I like rolls of pepperoni and Provelone cheese, with a little swipe of Colman’s mustard. Plus every variation on a cheese straw that I can find. Sometimes I take the time to make my own Parmesan crisps. Yumsters! https://www.foodnetwork.com/recipes/giada-de-laurentiis/parmesan-crisps-recipe-3381387

You can add anything and everything to your charcuterie board. And you don’t even need a board. I’ve used cookie sheets, cutting boards, Thanksgiving turkey platters, and even an old pizza pan. Then rummage in the fridge, or take a slow walk through the deli department. I’ve noticed that Boar’s Head has an over-priced package of “Charcuterie”. https://boarshead.com/charcuteriepairing? Bosh. Get the deli to cut some fresh slices of meat and cheese for you. Buy a stick of pepperoni. Wander though the cheeses and buy some nice Parmesan or Jarlsberg. But I have had some very tasty chunks of domestic Cracker Barrel Cheddar on top of Triscuits, with pepperoni coins and have been perfectly happy. Throw in some peanuts, grapes, strawberries and maybe some chocolate. Oh, don’t forget veggies. They are not just for the children.

I do love using little bowls and dishes that I have collected over the years to hold the olives, radishes, chocolates, crackers, etc. Nothing speaks of a John Cheever WASPy cocktail party like a tiny silver bowl holding half a dozen potato chips.

Find an excuse not to cook tonight, and concoct a practically labor-free charcuterie board. Relax for a change of pace. It’s going to be a long summer.
https://www.bhg.com/recipes/party/appetizers/how-to-build-a-simple-charcuterie/

“It’s so beautifully arranged on the plate, you know someone’s fingers have been all over it.”
-Julia Child

I didn’t learn about Juneteenth when I was growing up. I was taught that Lincoln freed the slaves, and we all lived happily ever after. I learned later in life that Juneteenth is named for the day in the middle of June of 1865, when the Union Major General Granger announced the end of slavery to the last enslaved African Americans in Galveston, Texas, more than two years after President Abraham Lincoln’s 1863 Emancipation Proclamation. The first Juneteenth celebration was held the following year, and the celebrations have spread to every corner of the country since.

I want to be careful about writing about Juneteenth. I don’t want to appropriate the significance of this Black American holiday which is only being recognized by the government as a federal holiday for the first time this year, 157 years since the actual event.

As a food writer and home cook it is easy for me to wander the halls of history and culture and pick up a soupçon of French style, a dollop of Greek passion, a nibble of Middle Eastern angst, or a taste of British class conflict. I am a mongrel American, but I am a white American. I grew up in a household of bland food, where garlic was considered exotic. My mother relied on convenience foods like boxes of frozen vegetables. We had cubed steaks for dinner, and bologna sandwiches for lunch. Pizza was exotic. I was 18 before I ever saw a Brussels sprout, and 25 before I tasted okra. Now we are lucky enough to sample foods from all over the world through the heritage of many cultures who live in our country. Life is richer and more flavorful here in the inclusive 21st century.

This Juneteenth I will be doing some home cooking to honor the legacy of the Black Texans on the anniversary of Emancipation Day. I will try to honor the memory of enslaved cooks who brought African cooking to America. I’ll remember their pain and suffering, while cooking some of their traditional recipes which have enriched and enlivened Southern cooking.

A good place to start is with okra. Enslaved West Africans brought okra seeds to America in the 1700s. They also brought watermelon, yam, black-eyed pea, and pepper seeds. You can find okra in regional varieties of gumbo stew, or breaded and fried. Of course, almost anything tastes better fried.
https://www.foodfidelity.com/southern-fried-okra/

Here is a tasty salad that will feed a holiday crowd: https://www.eatingwell.com/article/7916898/okra-greens-salad-from-brazil/

Always popular are okra stews:
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=O3dl8rlBBzA&t=1s

If you have a lot of okra on hand, and those CSA boxes are often packed with it, Food52 can help you decide what to do: https://food52.com/recipes/okra

But if you are squeamish about okra, there are many other foods served at Juneteenth celebrations: fried chicken, barbecue, tomato salads, red beans and rice, and strawberry pie. There is something for everyone: https://www.seriouseats.com/juneteenth-menu-5189136

Spread the joy of freedom and emancipation, of equality and fairness this Juneteenth. Liberty for all.

“Juneteenth has never been a celebration of victory or an acceptance of the way things are. It’s a celebration of progress. It’s an affirmation that despite the most painful parts of our history, change is possible—and there is still so much work to do.”
— Barack Obama

I was hustling through the grocery store the other day, picking up last minute essentials for dinner, when something new caught my eye in the cracker aisle: Old Bay Seasoned Goldfish. Holy smokes! This was a news-worthy discovery. And they were Limited Edition Old Bay Seasoned Goldfish Crackers, which might might be bigger news than “The Crab Chip” Utz potato chips with Chesapeake Bay Crab Seasoning (although my all time favorite remains Utz Sour Cream & Onion potato chips).

As you no doubt know from personal experience, Old Bay seasoning enhances everything it touches: crabs, French fries, corn on the cob, deviled eggs, Bloody Marys, hot chocolate, vanilla ice cream, chicken, pizza, popcorn – all of the major food groups. I imagine there are folks who have concocted their own homemade Old Bay-seasoned Goldfish. Which is probably a good thing, since the store-bought, Limited Edition Old Bay Seasoned Goldfish sold out in hours. The next time I went to the grocery store that shelf was empty. Wiped out. Ignored Cheddar-flavored Goldfish bags sat forlornly. Pizza-flavored Goldfish are passé. I hope I remember to swap out the Lawry’s Seasoning Salt and use Old Bay in my Chex Mix next Christmas.

Now that I have done a little snack research I find that I missed last year’s smash Goldfish hit: Goldfish Frank’s RedHot Crackers. What was I thinking? Why wasn’t I paying attention? This Old Bay Seasoning on Goldfish is such brilliant idea that the news has been covered not only in Food & Wine Magazine: https://www.foodandwine.com/news/old-bay-goldish-crackers but in the hard hitting, take no prisoners Washington Post, too: https://www.washingtonpost.com/history/2022/05/17/old-bay-goldfish-baltimore-history/

The price of these Goldfish has soared! Normally I can get two bags of common, garden variety Cheddar Goldfish for $4. One 6.6 ounce bag of Limited Edition Old Bay Seasoned Goldfish Crackers on Amazon will run you $9.16, as of Thursday morning, May 26. https://www.amazon.com/Goldfish-Crackers-Limited-Seasoned-Snack/dp/B09SVT866G?

The folks at McCormick have Old Bay recipes for everyone: https://www.mccormick.com/old-bay/products/seasonings-and-sauces/old-bay-seasoning They will even answer your questions: “Hi Mac. You can use 4 1/2 to 5 cups of Old Bay Seasoning for 40 quarts of water.” Of course they even have an Instagram account: https://www.instagram.com/p/Cdd6JBNpGri/

For your own homemade Old Bay-seasoned Goldfish, here is one recipe: http://www.cookingismessy.com/2017/12/23/old-bay-goldfish-crackers/

Now that I have merrily fallen down the Old Bay rabbit hole, and sent you on a wild goose chase to the grocery store, let’s not forget that this is Memorial Day Weekend. Once you have whipped up a batch of homemade Old Bay-seasoned something snack, because for love or money you won’t be able to find the Limited Edition, you’ll need to get down to the matter of the beginning of the summer season. We are sticking close to home, Covid not having truly departed, so we will be flipping burgers on the back porch, and watching the fireflies dance. Heat up the charcoal briquets, enjoy your crab feast, fry up a batch of chicken, spike a cold watermelon, melt a batch of s’mores, enjoy the Chestertown Tea Party, wave your flags at the parades, and remember the brave souls who gave their all.

“O Captain! my Captain! rise up and hear the bells; / Rise up—for you the flag is flung—for you the bugle trills.”
-Walt Whitman

Last weekend we were preparing a festive Saturday dinner, just for the two of us, and Luke the wonder dog, who is forever hopeful. Weather-wise, it was finally warm enough to sit outside at the little bistro table on the back porch. It was breezy, with plenty of bluebird comings and goings to keep our conversation lively. We had a modest bottle of grocery store red wine and a few fluttering candles. There were grilled beef filets, asparagus, and a baked potato to split. I tore open a bag of greens and made a lively, tangy vinaigrette. But I had almost completely forgotten about dessert. Which would have been very sad. Luckily, a quick dive into the internets saved the night.

I hate recipe writers who promise that you can make their clever dishes with ingredients that you have on hand. As if we all live with well-stocked, gourmet-level larders at every moment. They’ll presume that you will have fresh shrimp, or expensive whole vanilla beans, or a bag of semolina flour in the pantry.  And unlike Dorie Greenspan, I do not have a basement, nor a freezer in the basement, full of high fat content butter. I actually had all of these cake ingredients, but I do bake a chocolate biscotti recipe every few weeks, so I have a ready stash of unsweetened cocoa powder. Go out and get a tin of cocoa powder to have for chocolate cake emergencies. One day you will thank me.

There is always a reason to bake a cake – like a nicer-than-usual Saturday night dinner, when it feels like spring has finally sprung, and you’d like to celebrate, just a little bit. COVID was hard for all of us, and it’s still not over, so we aren’t splurging with a dinner out, but something on the back porch, with dessert, for the novelty, seems fitting. This cake was quick and simple, and just enough for the two of us, unlike the lemon cheesecake that I baked for Easter, which served 12. We are still enjoying slim slices of this cake, here on Thursday.

This is a recipe for a simple single-layer chocolate cake, that doesn’t even need butter or eggs. It is amazing. You can gussie it up with ganache, like we did, or dust it with a sprinkling of confectioner’s sugar, or a scoop of ice cream, or a handful of strawberries. I added a tablespoon of espresso coffee just to make the chocolate taste more dense, but you don’t have to. It’s your blank slate. Go forth and enjoy.

As always, our clever friends at Food52 bailed me out.

Margaret Fox’s Amazon Chocolate Cake

1 1/2 cups all-purpose flour
1/3 cup unsweetened cocoa
1 teaspoon baking soda
1 cup sugar
1/2 teaspoon salt
5 tablespoons neutral oil (like corn, canola, or vegetable)
1 cup cold water
1 1/2 teaspoons vanilla
1 tablespoon cider or white vinegar

Heat the oven to 350° F.

Mix together the flour, cocoa, baking soda, sugar, and salt. Sift. In a separate bowl, whisk together the water, oil, vanilla, and vinegar.

Whisk together the wet and dry mixtures. If lumpy, whisk until smooth, or pour through strainer in to a bowl and break up lumps, pressing them through.

Mix again, and pour into a greased 9-inch round cake pan. Tap the edge of the pan against the edge of the counter, or drop from 6 inches to the floor several times to pop air bubbles. Bake for 25 to 30 minutes, or until the top springs back when pressed gently. 
Cool before removing from the pan and dusting with confectioners’ sugar, or frosting if desired.

https://food52.com/recipes/24484-margaret-fox-s-amazon-chocolate-cake

My favorite part was dropping the pan onto the counter to let the air bubbles out. That was fun.

This is my standard ganache that I use on flourless chocolate cakes and Boston Cream Pies:

3 ounces bittersweet chocolate
 (chocolate chips in a pinch)
3 tablespoons butter, softened
1 tablespoon brandy or bourbon or whatever you have in your desk drawer for emergencies

Melt the chocolate and butter together, slowly, in a saucepan, stirring until smooth. Add the generous dollop of bourbon and stir some more. Now pour the glaze over the cake. You will have a beautiful, shiny, super-rich, super-deelish chocolate cake, fit for a beautiful Saturday night.
The fireflies have emerged, so we are well on our way to summer and more back porch fine dining. Like Luke, I am ever hopeful.

“Let’s face it, a nice creamy chocolate cake does a lot for a lot of people; it does for me.”
— Audrey Hepburn

Thank goodness this is the new golden age of television. We have an assortment of goodies to watch as we sidle cautiously into the post-COVID world from our cozy little winter cocoons. While Mr. Sanders like to gobble up the epics with dragons and swordplay, I’m happier helping to win World War II with the plucky Brits. Together we compromise on a few food shows.

Stanley Tucci’s Searching for Italy, on CNN is perfect for these armchair travelers. We get to drive through Italy with him, trying the local fare, gazing at impossibly beautiful landscapes, and virtually tasting Italian foods. Last week it was finanziera, an ancient Piedmont stew. It was made with the veal brain, kidneys, testicles and the middle of the spine. The other moments of the show, spent savoring local cheeses and risotto, outweigh those incidents of unimaginable horror. Tucci is a charming fellow, who gamely and cheerfully eats anything and everything, never gaining an ounce. He waxes ecstatic about every local delight that is presented to him. “Wow. I was afraid of the testicles, but I’m not now,” Tucci said. “They’re absolutely delicious.” Of course. Luckily, there is wine.

A quasi-fictional Julia Child is equally as game, in Julia. Julia brought good food to 1960s Boston and, eventually, all of America. She storms rarefied WGBH television with her revolutionary cooking program, charming the reluctant, converting the uninitiated, bending the aesthete will of public broadcasting with fresh herbs, simple ingredients, and continental techniques. She also introduces wine and feminism. Sarah Lancashire who plays Julia Child with joie de vivre, and some pathos, is a woman of a certain age who has finally found her métier and passion. Her loving husband, Paul Child, played by David Hyde Pierce (played also by Stanley Tucci in Julie and Julia, the 2009 film directed by Nora Ephron) is another complicated creative, but he’s more of a dilettante than the dedicated, professional Julia. All will hail Julia, eventually. Here is a sneak peek: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5KK-UEwy-VE

The other end of the streaming spectrum is Is It Cake? On Netflix. Heavens to Betsy. I had listened to an NPR review of this show, and although they found it fluffy and silly, they thought one episode was just about enough fondant for anyone. They did not reckon with a 7-year-old with an iron will, and the only person in the house who knew how to operate the TV remote control. For 3 nights last week we were glued to a sofa, watching episodes of a competition where professionals had to bake cakes that looked just like sneakers, sand buckets or handbags. The cakes had to be indistinguishable from the real things, and they had to be delicious. The veal testicles started to become a viable option to me. And after Julia’s savory Chocolate Soufflé and whipped cream, I didn’t want to know how sweet the double fudge peanut butter elderflower fondant Hermes Kelly handbag cake would taste. https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Is_It_Cake%3F

That said, watch Julia, watch Stanley Tucci in Searching for Italy. Protect your aching fillings and your sense of propriety, and avoid Is it Cake? Unless your 7-year-old controls the remote. And try some delicious of this fettuccine.

I have been making fettuccine the same way for years. I boil a pot of water for the pasta. While the pasta is cooking I swirl garlic around in a non-stick pan, in a little oil, just until it is fragrant. Then I take the garlic out, and add a cup or so of half and half cream. Add a pinch of freshly ground nutmeg, a pinch of cayenne, and stir the cream for a few minutes as it reduces. Grate a cup or so of good Parmesan cheese. Drain the pasta – reserving a cup of the pasta water, just in case. Add the pasta to the pan of hot cream, with a handful of cheese, and stir again. Everything should get nice and thick and creamy. Add a little more cheese. If the mixture thickens too much, add a little of the reserved water. Scoop the pasta onto warm dinner plates, tossing on a little more cheese, a scattering of parsley for contrast and interest. Serve with bread and good butter, a green salad, and yes, Julia and Stanley, some wine.

I tried a game changer this week, though. This fettuccine Alfredo is from the Elaine’s in New York, and was supposed to be one of Jackie O’s faves.

Elaine’s Fettuccine Alfredo

Salt
2 tablespoons butter
1 small clove garlic, finely chopped
1 ½ cups heavy cream
1 large egg yolk
1 pound fresh fettuccine
1 cup freshly grated Parmigiano-Reggiano cheese
Freshly ground pepper to taste

Bring 6 quarts generously salted water to a boil.

While the water heats, melt the butter in a large, deep skillet over medium-high heat. Add garlic; saute until fragrant and sizzling, about 2 minutes. Whisk the cream with the egg yolk in a bowl until blended; pour into the garlic butter. Reduce heat to medium-low; stir until hot but not boiling. Keep warm over low heat.

Meanwhile, cook the pasta, partially covered, until al dente. (The pasta will float when it’s done.) Drain in a colander, shaking out excess water, but reserve a little cooking water. Pour hot pasta into the cream mixture and toss to coat (still over low heat). Add the cheese and keep tossing gently until cream is mostly absorbed. Season with salt and pepper. If sauce is absorbed too much, toss with a little pasta water. Serve in warm bowls. https://cooking.nytimes.com/recipes/9025-elaines-fettuccine-alfredo?

The egg yolk made a huge difference to the creaminess of the mixture. I am going to add egg to my old fave recipe, but continue to add the nutmeg and cayenne. We like that little kick.

Good luck with your own offal and beef bourguignon and Hermès handbags.

“A party without cake is really just a meeting.”
– Julia Child

This is a repeat of an older column – I am taking a little holiday. Enjoy!

It’s not too late to start planning a little Mother’s Day gesture. But you had best hurry up. I would advise you to put a little thought into it, though. I had an email this morning suggesting that a trip to Jersey Mike’s Subs would be a good idea; “Treat Mom to a Sub!” Perhaps not. I like a good cheesesteak as much as the next mother, and this is definitely a first world problem, but I’d like something homemade. It doesn’t have to be fancy, or well-crafted (and believe me, I have a drawer of summer camp ashtrays, plaster handprints, and dollar store jewels). Maybe this Mother’s Day I could get first pick of sections of the Sunday New York Times, some sweet and crunchy French bread, and some bacon.

I love bacon. I don’t like cleaning it up. Bacon is one of those foods that tastes better when someone else has cooked it. And then poured the bacon grease into a can, cleaned up the splatters, washed out the pan, and has tossed the dish cloth into the laundry, where more elves will take over. Such a life of fantasy I enjoy!

In real life, I tried this glazed bacon recipe from the New York Times last weekend as part of my exhaustive food research for The Spy. We also had French toast. It was divine. Be sure to get thick bacon – otherwise, why bother?

Glazed Bacon https://cooking.nytimes.com/recipes/1016900-glazed-bacon
1/2 pound thick-cut bacon slices (about 6 slices)
1/2 cup light brown sugar
1 tablespoon Dijon mustard
2 tablespoons red wine

PREPARATION
Heat oven to 350º F. Line a baking pan with foil; it should be large enough to hold the bacon in a single layer. Place bacon in pan and bake until lightly browned and crisp, 15 to 20 minutes. While bacon cooks, mix remaining ingredients together.
Drain bacon fat from pan. Brush the bacon strips on both sides with the brown sugar mixture. Return bacon to the oven and cook another 10 minutes or so, until glaze is bubbling and darkened.
Remove bacon from the oven and transfer to a cutting board or platter lined with foil or parchment paper. Let cool about 15 minutes. Bacon should not be sticky to the touch. Cut each strip in thirds and arrange on a serving dish.

I did not cut up the bacon – I divided it evenly between Mr. Sanders and myself. With no apologies to Luke the wonder dog, who went without.

This is my standard recipe (practically foolproof) that I pull out for every occasion that calls for French toast: houseguests, Easter, vacation, first day of spring, Sundays, and even birthdays. It was featured once on Food52, although they did not use my illustration, which still makes me a little huffy.

We always have day-old French bread (in fact we have a collection of French bread in the freezer – we will never starve) and it always seems a sin and a shame to pitch it, so this is a delightful and economical way to be frugal consumers. And Mr. Sanders loves the added kick of the rum on an otherwise uneventful Sunday morning.

Serves: 4
Prep time: 10 minutes
Cook time: 5 minutes

Ingredients:
1 cup milk (or half and half)
1 pinch of salt
3 brown eggs (any will do, actually – brown are prettier)
1/2 teaspoon cinnamon
1/2 teaspoon nutmeg – grate it fresh – do NOT use dried out old dust in a jar
1 teaspoon pure vanilla extract
1 generous dollop of rum
1 tablespoon brown sugar
8 1/2-inch slices of day-old French bread

Whisk milk, salt, eggs, cinnamon, nutmeg, vanilla extract, rum and sugar until smooth. Heat a lightly oiled griddle or frying pan over medium heat. Soak bread slices in mixture until super-saturated. Cook bread on each side for a couple of minutes, until golden brown. Serve with warm maple syrup and powdered sugar. If you add some strawberries and whipped cream it will remind you of the Belgian Waffles from the World’s Fair in the 60s. Childhood bliss!
https://food52.com/recipes/4622-weekend-french-toast

Your mother will thank you for this breakfast, especially if you remember to use cloth napkins, and if you wash up afterward. Then leave her alone to wander over to her Adirondack chair on the back porch, so she can read The Palace Papers, all by herself.
Happy Mother’s Day!

“No one can be independent of other people completely, so why not give up the attempt, she thought, go running in the other direction, depend on people for everything, allow them to depend on you, why not.”
― Sally Rooney

It’s a little early for Eastern Shore strawberry picking, but that doesn’t mean we can’t circle important dates on our calendars. St. Luke’s 31st Annual Strawberry Festival takes place on June 4, and what a sweet and glorious time it will be. I’m going to put a couple of strawberry plants into the container garden this weekend – there is more to life than basil plants.

I am going to practice my strawberry skills on some berries from the grocery store, which are never as good as local berries, but the weather is so spring-y that I feel like we need a treat. This is when I am practicing discipline while I try to ignore the wailing siren song from the fridge – the leftover kabillion calorie lemon cheesecake I baked for Easter. Whatever was I thinking, baking a cheesecake that serves 12, for 2 people?

Strawberries are sweet enough, but they are always enhanced with a little cream and a pinch of sugar. A handful of sliced strawberries scattered over your morning bowl of muesli is the easiest treat; sticks and bark never tasted better. I like strawberries, homemade granola and some vanilla yogurt as a morning pick-me-up. After dinner, sitting on the back porch, neglecting the evening news, is perfect time for strawberries on a scoop of vanilla ice cream.

I waste an enormous amount of each strawberry that I cut, and I bet you do, too. I lop off the end with sharp knife, flying headlong into imaginary conflict with my family line of maternal cooks. My mother would be ashamed at the food I toss out, and her mother would be amazed at all the food options we enjoy in the twenty-first century. Imagine her reaction to boneless chicken breasts, kept in the freezer, compared to the chickens she kept in her back yard.

I am the product of Depression-era children. I try to waste not, recycle, and compost; fine habits which our parents strove to impress upon us. I guess I am inherently lazy, as are most people. There is a glass strawberry jam jar soaking in the kitchen sink as I type this. I want to clean the jar thoroughly enough to go in the recycling bin, and then I am hoping it actually gets recycled and not added to some stinking landfill. My mother would have bought a brand of jam that came in a jar suitable for recycling as a drinking glass. My grandmother would have put up that jam herself, and would have re-used the jam jar as she got ready for the June strawberry jam session. I suppose the least I can do is to prepare my strawberries a little more prudently. I think we will do fine with a sharp knife, and a whiff of nostalgia, remembering our mothers and grandmothers as we get ready for summer to whip around the corner.

Try these easy, no-fuss recipes:
Eton Mess: https://preppykitchen.com/eton-mess/

Strawberry cobbler: https://divascancook.com/fresh-strawberry-cobbler-recipe-easy-dessert/

You don’t have to restrict your strawberries to dessert. Strawberries will go nicely with my container garden basil: https://www.loveandlemons.com/strawberry-salad/

Imagine opening your bento box, expecting the same old tuna sandwich, but instead you have a surprise strawberry and cream cheese sandwich! Deelightful!
https://www.eatingwell.com/recipe/249521/strawberry-cream-cheese-sandwich/

Or you can be even fussier with this strawberry tea sandwich: https://www.southernladymagazine.com/strawberry-tea-sandwiches-recipe/

I hope your basil plants are thriving. Once strawberry season starts they will become a necessity: https://www.wholesomelicious.com/strawberry-basil-chicken/

If we ever have another cocktail party, in the post-COVID world of our wildest dreams, I’d like to serve these: https://thehealthyepicurean.com/strawberry-basil-bruschetta/

Now, stand up. Turn off your device. Go outside and do some weeding. There is enormous satisfaction in amassing a pile of weeds. And once you have tired of this never-ending task, you can treat yourself to a little bowl of fresh strawberries, that you can eat with your weed-grubby little fingers, because you have earned this exquisite treat. Breathe in some springtime.

“Strawberries are like tomatoes for me; I just won’t eat them year round. I’ll happily wait for them to come into season, then I gorge like a brown bear eating salmon before hibernation.”
-Brad Leone

St. Luke’s United Methodist’s 31st Annual Strawberry Festival, Craft Show and Book Sale at St. Luke’s Church, 304 Talbot Street, St. Michaels, Saturday, June 4th, from 9:00 AM to 5:00 PM. Free admission.