We are lucky to be celebrating a series of social events denied us last year. After being locked down for so long, there is an embarrassment of riches laid out before us this weekend: Juneteenth (our newest federal holiday), Father’s Day, and the Summer Solstice. Let the summer games begin!

Here is the latest update from the Spy Container Garden 2021: we have tomatoes. And a few of them are turning red. I listened to latest episode of The Splendid Table podcast while Luke the wonder dog and I were working on our 10,000 steps the other day. It is delightful episode about June in three regions of the United States: https://www.splendidtable.org/episode/2021/06/11/3-junes One of the guests interviewed was Chef-Farmer Matthew Raiford, who farms and cooks in Coastal Georgia. He said there are three essentials that must to be ripe by the Fourth of July: corn, tomatoes and watermelon. The Spy on track for the tomatoes, with one is ripening on the vine, and another is pinking up on the kitchen windowsill.

Tomorrow is Juneteenth. Juneteenth commemorates the day when the last enslaved African Americans in Galveston learned they were free. Red is a powerful color, and red foods are important to Juneteenth celebrations: red beans and rice, strawberry soda, watermelon, red velvet cake, barbecued meats, and, of course, tomatoes. https://www.oprahdaily.com/life/a36479941/juneteenth-food-traditions/

Fresh tomato tarts are perfect to bring to your Juneteenth celebration. They aren’t fancy, but they are beautiful, and they are deelish. I found a few tomato tart recipes which showcased the beauty of tomatoes. The tarts are simple to put together and can be brought to potlucks and picnics all tomato season long. They are divine warm, or at room temp. You can use store-bought tomatoes if you must, but it is smugly satisfying to use the ones grown in your own back yard. Save the store-bought card for the pie crust.

I adapted this recipe from the New York Times:
Pie dough
1 ½ pounds ripe tomatoes (about 4 medium)
¼ cup pesto*
1/2 cup shredded mozzarella (I used some left-over mozz from last week’s Friday Night Pizza, and added another handful of ground Parmesan cheese)
1 tablespoon torn fresh basil
1 teaspoon dried oregano
3 large eggs
⅓ cup heavy cream
½ teaspoon Maldon salt
½ teaspoon freshly ground black pepper

*For the pesto I tossed a fistful of basil leaves (we have basil growing in abundance on the Spy Container Farm this year!), a clove of garlic and about 1/4 cup of olive oil into the blender and blended it until it was a bright emerald green liquid. Then I spread it with a pastry brush on the browned pie crust.

• Heat oven to 350°F. Fit the rolled-out dough into a 9-inch tart pan. Prick the dough all over with a fork.
• Bake for 15 minutes, until beginning to brown at the edges. Increase the oven temperature to 375 degrees.
• Meanwhile, cut the tomatoes into 1/2-inch slices. Place in a colander to drain excess tomato liquid for 20 minutes.
• Spread pesto in an even layer over the pie crust. Sprinkle the shredded mozzarella and Parmesan over the pesto. Scatter the fresh, torn basil and oregano over the cheese.
• In a medium bowl, whisk together the eggs, cream, salt and pepper.
• Neatly place the sliced tomatoes evenly over the cheese and herbs in overlapping concentric circles. I found this process strangely soothing, although I heard Julia Child’s voice in my head: “It’s so beautifully arranged on the plate — you know someone’s fingers have been all over it.”
• Pour the custard evenly over the tomato slices. Bake until the filling is set and won’t jiggle when shaken, about 35 minutes.
• Remove from the oven and let cool slightly before serving warm. This tart can also be served at room temperature. It is also delicious cold, eaten out of the fridge for lunch, when you are suddenly ravenous and can’t be bothered to make a delicious tomato sandwich from the bounty on the windowsill.

This tart was lighter than a frittata or quiche.

There usually is a paywall challenge with New York Times articles, but here is a link to the recipe, just in case: https://cooking.nytimes.com/recipes/1021252-heirloom-tomato-tart?

Variations:

Easy: https://www.bonappetit.com/story/never-fail-tomato-tart

Fancy: https://www.foodnetwork.com/recipes/ina-garten/annas-tomato-tart-3756210

Very involved: https://www.davidlebovitz.com/tomato-tart-recipe-fresh-herbs/

“Freeing yourself was one thing, claiming ownership of that freed self was another.”
— Toni Morrison

Once upon a time, long ago in the golden age of travel and visiting folks, we stopped to see friends who live outside of Philadelphia. Our Mr. Smith is a fabulous cook, and the meals he prepares are the stuff of legend. He made an impressive Dorie Greenspan chicken recipe for our dinner. His version of Dorie’s “Chicken in a Pot: The Garlic and Lemon Version” was a show stopper. (The dish is the cover photo for her book “Around My French Table” https://www.eatlivetravelwrite.com/2015/05/french-fridays-with-dorie-chicken-in-a-pot-the-garlic-and-lemon-version-the-final-recipe/)

Mr. Smith brought a large Dutch oven to the table, its lid was sealed with brown, baked dough crust. Dramatically, with a sturdy screwdriver, he broke the dough seal, and a billow of fragrant steam puffed out. The pope had been elected. This the first time I had ever seen that cooking technique. (https://www.meilleurduchef.com/en/recipe/flour-dough-sealing.html) After the applauding the special effects, we were delighted to hungrily fall on the wondrous garlic-y chicken casserole, while talking a mile a minute. And we resolved to replicate this dining experience at home.

The first couple of times Mr. Sanders attempted Mr. Smith’s chicken there were hits, and there were misses. He was fooled by the cover photo of the newly acquired cookbook, which shows a whole chicken inside the Dutch oven, instead of a more accurate and true-to-the recipe, cut-up chicken. It was pretty tricky trying to brown a whole bird, which he attempted, before re-reading the recipe. Which then necessitated buying a boning knife, so he could cut a whole chicken into pieces. (I would have bought chicken pieces, pre-cut, but I am a journeyman cook…) And then the seal that the dough was supposed to provide was not as tight as was required. So we bought a fancier Dutch oven, with a better fitting lid. It was slightly smaller than the previous pot. Which brought more complications to the process.

This is the time of year when I do my best to stay away from the kitchen and the heat of the oven. This is when I enjoy Mr. Sanders and his penchant for grilling outside on the back porch. We sit out there, tossing the ball for Luke the wonder dog, watching as fireflies begin to appear in the darkening hydrangeas. We enjoy the dissipation of the heat of the day, while he flips burgers, rolls foil-wrapped ears of corn, times the salmon, adjusts the chicken breasts. He is the grill master. Imagine my surprise last weekend when we spent an entire afternoon in the kitchen, almost following a Dorie Greenspan recipe for roasted chicken.

Mr. Sanders had originally intended to replicate Mr. Smith’s chicken-in-a-pot dish, as a Sunday dinner showpiece. We stopped by the farmers’ market on Saturday and picked up a chicken from our favorite poultry farmers, choosing a 4.5-pound bird. On Sunday, upon re-reading the original recipe, Mr. Sanders decided to opt for something new. He had flipped through the Greenspan cookbook and landed on “Roast Chicken for Les Paresseux”. Les Paresseux are lazy people. Certainly lazy people would never have attempted this dish, which required yet another trip to the fancy grocery store. We have a pot of rosemary on the porch, but no sprigs of fresh thyme or oregano, because the dried stuff would certainly never do. Nor did we have baby potatoes or four shallots, or French bread to line the bottom of the pot, absorbing juicy goodness while the chicken was cooking.

Les Paresseux chicken does not not need to be cut up, so it looks quite pretty. But our fat bird filled the fancy Dutch oven, snugly. There wasn’t enough room to add the newly acquired herbs, vegetables, garlic and French bread. Instead, he lined a baking sheet with parchment paper, drizzled them with oil, and roasted them separately. The chicken cooked by itself in the fancy new Dutch oven, without a top, without veggies, and without a dough seal.

This was the intended recipe: https://www.food.com/recipe/roast-chicken-for-les-paresseux-500592 Instead we had a simpler, improvised roast chicken, with a side of roasted veggies, and plates of bread and butter. https://www.markbittman.com/recipes-1/simplest-roast-chicken-8-ways with sheet pan vegetables. https://www.cookinglight.com/recipes/sheet-pan-roasted-vegetables Simplicity. And it took all of a Sunday afternoon.

“One of the delights of life is eating with friends; second to that is talking about eating. And, for an unsurpassed double whammy, there is talking about eating while you are eating with friends.”
–Laurie Colwin

Education doesn’t stop for vacations. You should learn something new every day, and often it can be surprising. Over the Memorial Day weekend we visited a vast farmers’ market in another city, and as we roamed the many booths and displays we were overwhelmed by the abundance of colorful items for sale: cut flowers, bedding plants, fruits and vegetables, smocked infant dresses, driftwood sculptures, honey, and baked goods.

There were huge displays of tomatoes: conventional red, slicing tomatoes, plum tomatoes, jewel-like multi-colored cherry and grape tomatoes. The bulbous and irregularly-shaped heirloom tomatoes glowed purple, yellow, orange and crimson. Grocery store stacks of trucked-in produce cannot compete with the wide array of glorious produce at a local farmers’ market. My mind raced while considering the permutations and possibilities of so many delicious choices – unlike the weekly confrontation with flavorless, hot house tomatoes and bland, boring lettuces.

One booth we visited had Kirby cucumbers, salad cucumbers, cabbages, kale, grape tomatoes, and shiny, red onions that were still attached to their leafy green headdresses. We saw a battered pickup truck whose entire bed was filled to the brim with sweet potatoes. Next to it was a display with freshly dug red potatoes, gleaming tomatoes, human head-sized cabbages, baskets and boxes of blueberries, many, many containers of strawberries, and watermelons galore.

We staggered around, awe-struck by the vast harvest spread out before us. And then we saw them: weird, alien creatures with green, pointy heads. It was our first encounter with pointed head cabbages. How had we never seen pointy cabbages before? Ignorance comes from rarely coloring outside the lines of the chain grocery store. Bring your mask and head outdoors to a farmers’ market or a farm stand this weekend, and see what you have been missing. You are sure to get an education and an appreciation for all the hard work involved in setting food down on your table.

I have since learned that pointed head cabbage (which is also called sweetheart cabbage) is softer and sweeter than the white and red cabbages I grew up on. I am planning on some innovative new coleslaws and stir fries this summer. I brought home a couple of pointed head cabbages, which should keep nicely in the fridge, while I do my research.

Classic coleslaw: https://www.simplyrecipes.com/recipes/coleslaw/

Pointed cabbage coleslaw: (There is a kitchen sink hidden in here, I am sure. As well as some whopping typos, still the cook’s enthusiasm is infectious.) https://myfattyassets.wordpress.com/2014/11/04/pointed-cabbage-coleslaw/

This is quick and easy and deelish – three of our favorite recipe qualities: https://schoolofwok.co.uk/tips-and-recipes/flash-fried-sweetheart-cabbage-with-dried-chillies-and-sweetened-soy

Here is a charming, and short, video on stir frying sweetheart cabbage:https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Pg2_ZuyS3Tw&t=1s

“I said I ‘liked’ being half-educated; you were so much more ‘surprised’ at everything when you were ignorant.”
― Gerald Durrell

It’s Memorial Day Weekend! Hurrah! We can all use a three-day weekend to signal summer. We’ve got flag bunting draping the window boxes out front and I’ve strung lights along the back porch. We’ve already seen some fireflies return the compliment. Summer is almost upon us! Can grilled burgers be far off?

How will you be spending your Memorial Day weekend? As the COVID19 Pandemic seems to be winding down, we can look forward to some traditional Memorial Day activities roaring back, next year. Fingers are crossed that the annual Chestertown Tea Party will be flinging tea into the Chester River then.

This year we can take some time at the Chestertown Farmers’ Market on Saturday morning, stocking up on celebratory fruits and veggies for our homemade picnics and cookouts. https://townofchestertown.com/event/chestertown-farmers-market/2021-05-29/

And Saturday afternoon also brings the debut of the new mobile stage in downtown Chestertown. It’s going to be an event! https://townofchestertown.com/event/street-party-and-stage-debut/

If you are in Cambridge this weekend, the Pride of Baltimore will be dockside as part of its Star-Spangled Banner National Historic Trail. It’s a free event. https://www.dorchesterchamber.org/events/details/pride-of-baltimore-ii-in-cambridge-6949

Easton will be holding its annual Memorial Day Parade and Celebration. Get out there and wave! At a safe, social distance, of course. http://www.eastonmemorialdaycelebration.com/parade-maps.html

There are so many possibilities for this upcoming weekend, especially now that many of us have gotten the vaccine.
I love ritual celebrations. I love small town parades. Once, back in our misspent youth, Mr. Sanders and his chums had a martini stand at the annual Memorial Day Parade. And in those days, when one could drink with impunity before noon, we sat in lawn chairs with martinis in hand, cheering as the Scouts, the school marching bands, the firefighters, some antique cars, town officials and proud veterans paraded past us. Then we went to a Memorial Day cookout in a park, under the trees, on the river. It was a warm and sunny day, as most happy hazy events tend to be remembered.

For this year’s Memorial Day cookout I suggest taking the easy route – we have spent a long time indoors, after all, and we aren’t used to all that cooking, apart from honing our pandemic sour dough baking skills. There is no need to get fussy as we start to socialize again: strawberries and ice cream, hot dogs and hamburgers are swell American foods, and are appropriate for any Memorial Day picnic. I usually whip up a batch of potato salad, but a bag of Utz sour cream and onion potato chips is never out of place.

Let’s find some more delicious hamburgers to cook. Hamburgers never grow old. Cook Out Season from Bon Appétit: http://www.bonappetit.com/test-kitchen/cooking-tips/article/grilling-best-burgers

For our pescatarians, or the earnest folks worried about their carbon footprint, there are always tasty substitutions available: https://food52.com/recipes/83281-best-black-bean-burger-recipe or this from Martha: https://www.marthastewart.com/1043207/shrimp-burgers

Memorial Day is the tempting reminder that summer is within reach. That we will soon be able to enjoy the great outdoors, and this year, almost mask-free. There are waves to catch, baseball to watch, hikes to undertake, vistas to appreciate, and the wicker chair in a corner of the cool, dark, screened-in porch with a good book, are all calling out to you! Get out and enjoy yourself.

This is my Tried and True Potato Salad
This is a recipe that people actually ask for – and not just because they are my in-laws and trying hard to be polite! It that constantly evolves and adapts, and each summer brings a new twist. I don’t always have green onions – Vidalias work just fine. No red potatoes? Go for Russets. A little fresh thyme? Why not? It is dependable, tasty and can be adapted and stretched to feed the masses. Just add more potatoes and more mayonnaise. Particularly fine for large picnic gatherings, it tastes best if it has a little time to sit and mellow, so if you can make it in the morning, it is just right by suppertime.

Many, many servings…
2 pounds little new, red potatoes
1 cup Hellmann’s mayonnaise thinned with milk
1 bunch green onions, chopped
Sea salt and pepper to taste
Boil the potatoes until tender. While warm (but not still steaming hot) slice potatoes and begin to layer them in a large bowl – 1 layer potatoes, then a handful of green onions and salt and pepper. Pour on some of the mayonnaise mixture. Repeat. Gently stir until all the potatoes are coated. You may need to add more mayonnaise mixture when you are ready to serve, as the potatoes absorb the mayo.

Enjoy your weekend!

“I’m still passionately interested in what my fellow humans are up to. For me, a day spent monitoring the passing parade is a day well-spent.”
– Garry Trudeau

“Willy Wonka: Well, I told you I hadn’t quite got it right, ’cause it goes a little funny when it gets to the dessert. It’s the Blueberry Pie that does it. I’m terribly sorry!” -Roald Dahl

Pity poor little Violet Beauregarde. While touring Willy Wonka’s fantastical chocolate factory, the greedy little gum-chewer experiences the all the flavors and textures of a three-course dinner: tomato soup, roast beef, and blueberry pie (with cream) while munching on a specially Wonka-infused piece of chewing gum. Sadly, the formulation is a little wonky, and Violet is transformed into a large, violet blueberry. Even juicing can’t save that impulsive child. I just love a good cautionary tale.

I hope you are taking advantage of blueberries, albeit without Willy Wonka’s magic touch. Blueberries are easy picking for delightful and simple summery meals; all day and all night.

Mr. Sanders starts most mornings with blueberries. Sometimes he just rinses them off in a little strainer, and drops them into a bowl for easy munching. Or he mixes them with other berries and some yogurt. Sometimes he ladles a handful on top of a bowl of leaves and twigs and has a healthy, crunchy granola breakfast.

I like my blueberries as a special component: in piping hot, just baked blueberry muffins, with melting Irish butter, and the Sunday papers. Or in blueberry pancakes, with warm blueberry bursts in each mouthful. Nigel Slater has a divine recipe for blueberry French toast: https://www.theguardian.com/food/2021/may/09/nigel-slater-recipes-for-baked-peppers-and-blueberry-compote

Or, with a little planning, you can bake a breakfast cake. How perfect is cake for breakfast? A blueberry breakfast cake is the best way to start a day: https://amandascookin.com/blueberry-breakfast-cake/

Now that we are vaxxed (and I hope you are, too) we can entertain the notion of pot lucks again. This is an easy and unusual dish to bring to a Memorial Day get together: blueberry, corn and feta salad. https://www.tasteofhome.com/recipes/white-balsamic-blueberry-corn-and-feta-salad/
Simple, seasonal, and not another platter of deviled eggs.

Here is another unique take on serving blueberries – from the U.S. Highbush Blueberry Council, of all places: https://www.blueberrycouncil.org/blueberry-recipe/roasted-blueberry-toasts/ It is simple and summery, and the perfect finger food when you are struggling to make small talk again. There is nothing like chasing spilled blueberries across the back porch to liven up an awkward moment.

Perhaps the Blueberry Council’s blueberry mimosas will smooth over any of your rusty social skills: https://www.blueberrycouncil.org/blueberry-recipe/blueberry-mimosa/ This is a fascinating and thorough website for learning all things blueberry: https://www.blueberrycouncil.org

Surely the ultimate blueberry moment is the first bite of pie. You might prefer your pie open-faced, lattice work, crumble, or with a second crust. It’s going to be a long summer, so try every variation. Our friends at Food52 have done lots of research, and lots of baking. I rely on them to guide me through these treacherous blueberry pie waters: https://food52.com/recipes/23647-rose-levy-beranbaum-s-fresh-blueberry-pie

“Don’t forget what happened to the man who suddenly got everything he ever wanted. He lived happily ever after.”
-Roald Dahl

Sunday is Mother’s Day, just in case you forgot. If you are reading this on Friday, it’s too late for you to mail a card, or to order flowers. Which supposes that you celebrate Mother’s Day. It was always a minefield when I was growing up. My mother stated loudly, and often, that, “It’s a Hallmark holiday. It doesn’t mean anything.” And yet, she seemed to enjoy the nosegays of flowers we pilfered from her garden, and our homemade, decidedly not Hallmark, cards: the power of Cray-Pas and oaktag.

I’m sure these popularized holidays are minefields in many other homes where lives are complicated. Mother’s Day might be painful for people whose mothers have died. There’s divorce. There’s estrangement. There’s distance. There are step-mothers. There are custody issues. Mothers go away. Boyfriends. Girlfriends. Uncomfortable situations and memories abound. However you spend Sunday, be nice. Smile, even if you are wearing a mask – people can tell the difference. A home-picked fistful of flowers might go a long way. And so would a phone call.

I’m planning on a nice, simple homemade breakfast. Our children have long since flown the coop, yet sometimes we look up with surprise that it is just the two of us again. We no longer have to make acres of pancakes, use a whole loaf of bread for toast, or fry a pound of bacon. We are adapting to recipes for two. I’ll mentally thank my mother for the family recipe for biscuits, which you will find on the side of the box of Bisquick. Mom did not enjoy cooking much, just the ceremonial bits like Christmas cookies, and birthday cakes, and the annual corned beef and cabbage for St. Patrick’s Day. For her, less time in the kitchen meant more time in the garden, or more time reading. It is an admirable philosophy, and one I intend to practice this weekend.

Bisquick Biscuits
• 2 1/4 cups Bisquick mix
• 2/3 cup milk
• Heat oven to 450°F. Stir ingredients until soft dough forms.
• Drop dough by spoonfuls onto ungreased cookie sheet. (I like to roll the dough out, and cut it into circles, using the ancestral biscuit cutter)
• Bake 8 to 10 minutes or until golden brown. (Be careful, it is very easy to burn their bottoms.)
(These freeze nicely, so you might still have some in reserve for Father’s Day.)

Our clever friends at Food52 understand the primal need for biscuits, and not just for breakfast: https://food52.com/blog/13819-13-recipes-for-when-you-just-need-a-biscuit

Over at Bon Appétit, they get a little carried away with themselves. However, my friend who worked at Bon Appétit, taught me a less complicated way to prepare bacon, which leaves more time for the Sunday papers, because it is relatively hands-free. We use thick cut bacon, so if you use thinner bacon, keep an eye on things – you do not want it to burn.

Baked Bacon
• Pre-heat oven to 425°F
• Line a sheet with parchment paper
• Lay the bacon slices on the parchment paper (We figure on 2 slices per person, and 1 for the dog)
• Put sheet pan into the oven, and set a timer for 12 minutes (It is easy to get lost in the Style section)
Sometimes Mr. Sanders, who likes to fuss, will turn the bacon halfway through the cooking process. I ignore it.
• Take bacon out when it is done enough for you. Drain the pieces on paper towels. Make the dog wait until you have finished eating.
The fancier Bon Appétit way: https://www.bonappetit.com/recipe/brown-sugar-glazed-bacon

Whipped Cream Pat for Fruit
You must have fresh fruit for breakfast! And fruit bathed in our latest invention at the very least. We baked some cream puffs a couple of weeks ago, and improvised the most delicious filling ever in the whole wide world. We mixed whipped cream into the creme pat. Luckily, there was a large bowl of filling left over. You can be a reasonable adult and mix some whipped cream into vanilla yogurt if you want. Or you can be a cool kid, and try our mixture with your farm-fresh, you-picked-them strawberries. Make this ahead of time. Maybe for your Saturday night cream puffs.

Creme Patissiere
https://prettysimplesweet.com/creme-patissiere/
Add 2 cups of homemade whipped cream and combine. And now you see why we had leftovers. Believe me, you will enjoy this for a while.

We never know what is going on with other folks, so remember to be kind. Holidays can be anxious events. Make a nice, simple breakfast, read the paper, get out into the garden, pick up the phone.

“It was delightful to wake up early and refreshed, and come down to this sunshiny, cheerful breakfast-table, where, though nothing was grand, all was thoroughly comfortable.”
― Dinah Maria Mulock Craik

“I sit quietly and think about my mom. It’s funny how memory erodes, If all I had to work from were my childhood memories, my knowledge of my mother would be faded and soft, with a few sharp memories standing out.”
― Audrey Niffenegger

May starts tomorrow. Isn’t that amazing? Winter is gone and spring is well and truly sprung. There are real leaves on the trees. The sun is warm in the afternoon. It is going to be nice enough to have a tiny, and socially distanced, cocktail hour on the back porch with another couple of vaxxed friends. Dr. Fauci would approve of our medicinal wine. We are coming back.

It has been such a long time since we socialized. Zoom calls, which were charming when they were relatively novel, were great for the first couple of attempts. I loved seeing whatever spot in everyone’s house had the best WiFi: Emily’s dining room with elegant molding, Daphne’s comfy and cozy front parlor, Maura’s tidy spare bedroom. But it was impossible to exchange an amused look, or arch an eyebrow, without the whole group noticing. And really, everyone was looking with horror at themselves. Those lock-down hairdos were not flattering. Black is not as slimming as one might hope. Have I always guffawed like that, or is it a habit developed during the pandemic?

The first people we will have over will not be our dearest friends, or even our relatives, so it will be a good time to practice niceties and work out the rusty kinks in our social skills. Thus the invention of the cocktail hour – it smooths away some of the rough edges, and renders us slightly more attractive for a short period of time. When we can then slink back to our lairs, and reassess our places in society.

Washington College, back in our day, had a healthy May Day tradition of streaking. I don’t think we will indulge in either real or virtual streaking this year. Maybe next year, when things are a little more normal, and we have lost the weight gained while bingeing on Grey’s Anatomy and Game of Thrones. This year we will keep our slimming black outfits on, while showing off our new haircuts, and enjoying a thankful libation. Tra la. It’s May.

It is an opportunity to drink Prosecco in the form of mimosas. Deelish. https://cookieandkate.com/2017/best-mimosa-recipe/

We won’t be entertaining a crowd, but sometimes it is nice to have a little bowl of punch all made and ready for guests. I have a vintage, thrift shop, sterling, sailing trophy that I use for a punch bowl. I like polishing silver in anticipation of an event. There is something festive about punch. Especially with floating strawberries, which are right in season now.
https://thebusybaker.ca/easy-party-punch/
https://www.thecookierookie.com/strawberry-lemonade-party-punch/

Is it too early for an icy blender drink? That is a ridiculous question. Of course not. Haul out the blender and rustle up some ice: https://www.thespruceeats.com/may-day-cocktail-recipe-760543

The best food at cocktail parties is finger food. It is hard enough to hold onto a drink, so who can manage an additional plate, napkin, and fork or knife? I know I have little inclination, or skill, for that balancing act. There are only so many flat areas on our back porch, anyway. We can line up a few platters of treats, and then retire to our respective corners during this tentative foray back into society.

With Cinco de Mayo happening next week, it is the perfect time to have a little Mexican food: https://www.goodhousekeeping.com/food-recipes/g19876275/mexican-recipes/

I love fresh pink radishes, especially outdoors, dipped in a little Maldon salt. This recipe is more sophisticated and swish: https://www.epicurious.com/recipes/food/views/radishes-with-herbed-salt-and-olive-oil-56389336

It used to be that pigs-in-blankets were essential party food, especially when we were entertaining other parents, who had their children in tow. There aren’t any children coming over this weekend, but we can remember the delightful times we had with them: https://www.marthastewart.com/1047656/pigs-blankets

A little more elegant, and very spring-y, are asparagus spears wrapped with Prosciutto ham and phyllo dough. No silverware necessary: https://food52.com/recipes/3998-asparagus-wrapped-in-phyllo-and-prosciutto

This event can be a nice little bit of practice for our re-introduction into society. I am looking forward to some real life, real-time experiences. It will be good to see your smiling face again.

“When spring came, even the false spring, there were no problems except where to be happiest. The only thing that could spoil a day was people and if you could keep from making engagements, each day had no limits. People were always the limiters of happiness except for the very few that were as good as spring itself.”
― Ernest Hemingway

We all like fresh, seasonal vegetables that have small carbon footprints. There is nothing sadder than a hot house tomato in the middle of winter. Enjoying freshly picked vegetables out of your own garden is pure bliss. And while it’s probably too late this year to plant your own peas, it is worth putting a note on your calendar to start a pea farm of your own next March. You can even start them in windowsill containers, so you’ll have more to enjoy than just grocery store basil plants.

On a trip to Charleston, South Carolina back in the days of travel and eating in restaurants, I had an early spring salad with snap peas, radishes, fennel, strawberries and lemon buttermilk vinaigrette. The addition of the snap peas was a revelation! I had never thought of adding peas to a salad. I have tossed snow peas into stir fry, and English peas into Fettucini Alfredo, but sugar snap peas cold in a salad, lightly bathed in buttermilk dressing? Genius. They were better than bacon-fried croutons! That tasty moment was almost as pleasant as memories of childhood, eating peas from the garden.

Tiny little snap pea pods are sweet and crunchy, unlike English peas, which need to be shelled. And snow peas, while you can eat them from stem to stern, have thinner shells and are flaccid, yet are quite deelish in their modest way. https://www.thespruce.com/garden-vs-snow-and-sugar-snap-1403487

I’ve been venturing back into the garden now that we don’t have to worry about a frost. I have planted some containers with tomatoes and basil plants, and have filled the raised bed with seeds of flowers that promise to be irresistible to hummingbirds and other pollinators. It’s too early right now to tell what is a precious sown wildflower seed, and what might be a pernicious weed. I am hoping that the blue jays don’t discover the row of sunflower seeds before they have a chance to germinate and take root.

Elsewhere in the yard I am using newspapers and mulch again. Last year I tried that combination and for the most part, the garden beds were fairly weed-free. (Sadly, there is one corner that lets the neighbor’s invasive ivy in to roam freely, but I am game for that fight. I want to have a nice, presentable middle class hydrangea bed.)

I love this newsprint/mulch concept – supporting our local (and national) press, and recycling, without contributing to landfill. I haven’t gone too radical because I have topped the newspaper with commercial garden center mulch, but you can skip that step if you don’t mind looking at the newspaper. (Mr. Sanders is much too conventional for that approach.) I just want to control the weeds without using RoundUp and I don’t want to be like another neighbor, who eschews RoundUp, but has her yard sprayed every couple of weeks for mosquito control. I am too fond of our birds. Even the thieving blue jays. https://www.bbg.org/news/using_newspaper_as_mulch

I’m thinking of light spring-y recipes while I am weeding and mulching. It can still be pretty nippy in the morning, yet I long to make lighter foods. No more meatloaf. No more chicken pot pie. Bring on the pasta primavera, with new peas and garden-fresh farmers’ market tomatoes, please. https://www.delish.com/cooking/recipe-ideas/recipes/a48087/lemon-primavera-bowties-recipe/

This is more interesting than a salad plate of wilting iceberg lettuce. It is redolent with springtime: https://www.saveur.com/article/Recipes/Fresh-Peas-With-Lettuce-and-Green-Garlic/

This transcendent pea compound butter is good on toast, or spread on cooked meats: https://www.epicurious.com/recipes/food/views/spring-pea-butter-with-shallot-and-lemon

This recipe caused a stir in New York City a few years ago, and I think it will make for a very nice appetizer on the back porch this weekend. Green Pea Guacamole. Something light and crunchy, to go with our newest discovery – rosé Prosecco. https://www.onceuponachef.com/recipes/green-pea-guacamole.html

It is time to stop thinking of peas as something stodgy that we dig out of the freezer to be a side dish for winter-y meats and mashed potatoes. They are among the springiest of vegetables. Welcome, spring!

“We lived very simply – but with all the essentials of life well understood and provided for – hot baths, cold champagne, new peas and old brandy.”
Winston Churchill

The warm weather beckons, even though over Easter weekend, not even two weeks ago, there was such a hard frost that the hydrangeas got frostbitten. I thought they were leafing a little early, but how could I warn them? Now they have tiny, curled, black leaves at their tips. I am hoping the buds are safe because I intend to continue to celebrate all the glories of spring. The mockingbirds are staging aerial combats. The dogwoods are dancing, the azaleas are flashy and vivid. The daffodils are receding. And it is warming up.

Warm weather is drawing me back outside to the garden, and to the farmers’ market. Warm weather means fresh, local strawberries. Masked and distanced, I will be stalking them. Soon. I really can’t wait much longer. In anticipation of eating warm, local fruit I caved and bought some imports at the grocery store last weekend. We were going to grill dinner, and eat out at the small table on the back porch for the first time since fall. Although sweaters didn’t enter into my initial fantasy vision, they were necessary. Luckily, a lighter weight cotton sufficed: I have put the turtlenecks away.

I am always amused that our revered secret family recipes are often versions of recipes found on the backs of boxes. My mother’s special brownies were based on the recipe on the Baker’s Secret box. Her lively spin was to omit the walnuts, thus making them her own. To this day we leave out the nuts, and feel as if that act is an homage to my mother’s home baking. She also made killer strawberry shortcake, based on the recipe on the side of the Bisquick box. Her version – was to roll out the dough, and using the ancestral biscuit cutter that had been her mother’s, she cut out trim little rounds of dough. She preferred a neat and tidy shortcake. https://www.bettycrocker.com/recipes/bisquick-strawberry-shortcake/370099a9-c927-4eae-93ba-ab66a455b996

Imagine my great dismay when after thoroughly searching the pantry I could not find the ever-present box of Bisquick. What kind of household do I think I run? And it was too late to run out to the grocery store – celebratory Saturday Prosecco had already been consumed. And so I turned to Google – every cook and baker’s secret weapon.

There I found this simple recipe from Jane Grigson’s Fruit Book:
https://www.sun-sentinel.com/news/fl-xpm-1986-08-06-8602160065-story.html

I divided the recipe in half, because there were just the two of us. If I had measured and baked according to the recipe, we would have had 16 neat and tidy, perfectly browned, divinely tasty shortcakes. As it was, there were 8, so we had to consume even more on Sunday night. But these do freeze nicely, so if you’d like to have an emergency supply for the spring nights to come, don’t do the math, just bake.

We had a yumsters dinner of the first cheeseburgers of the season, with cheap wine, and candlelight, and no mosquitoes, as yet. I related my modest tale of baking woe to Mr. Sanders, who stood up, and ambled into the pantry. He returned with a tall, fresh, box of Bisquick, that had been stashed on an uppermost shelf, and placed it, wordlessly, on the table. I think I might ditch the secret family recipe in favor of Jane Grigson’s. We need some new traditions.

Go forth and bake from scratch!

“One must ask children and birds how cherries and strawberries taste.”
Johann Wolfgang von Goethe