Salmon

Did you know that humans have been eating salmon for the past 11,000 years or so? According to researchers from the University of Alaska, the chemical analysis of prehistoric hearths lead to that discovery. Honestly, it’s not that hard to believe. Fishing for food has been a past time for hungry humans as long as those humans have been hungry.

When it comes to my family, salmon is often requested, particularly by my youngest daughter. I’m not really sure how or when she got hooked on the meaty, pink flesh. But whenever I ask the age-old question of “What do you want for dinner?,” she emphatically responds, “Salmon!”

I usually prepare a simple recipe. Flip on the grill. Get it nice and hot (but turn it down to medium heat, otherwise you’ll burn the crap out of your dinner). In a foil packet, slip in a two pound filet. Drizzle with extra virgin olive oil, sea salt, and cracked black pepper. Top with lemon slices and thyme sprigs. Et voila! You’ve got a tasty fish dinner.

This time, I tried something a little different. But hey, that’s what salmon is good for, right? It’s relatively versatile when it comes to flavorings. French. Asian. Italian. Latin American. Whatever the combinations, it holds up pretty well.

Marinating the filet in a ¼ cup of soy sauce with one tablespoon of sesame oil (that can be decreased to your taste—sesame oil can be pretty overpowering) and lime juice gave a nice base. Adding half of a teaspoon of ginger root and two small crushed garlic cloves rounded out my “fish tea.” I let it sit for a few hours, grilled for about 25 minutes, and plated it with the foil packet still steaming.

And salmon can go with just about any carb. Rice of all kinds. Couscous. Quinoa. Farro. Potatoes of every color. Add a green veg and you can call that a sumptuous meal. Pair with a lovely rosé, Sauvignon blanc, Pinot noir, or sparkling wine. Like I said, salmon is versatile.

Gazpacho

This is by far my favorite dish in the summer. It can be refreshing, crisp, and utterly delightful. Elegantly light with just vegetables, as in the Latin American version or, as in Spain and parts of Portugal, it can contain portions of stale bread.

I truly got hooked on gazpacho in Barcelona. Travelling there a few years ago, I had the serendipitous fortune to enjoy it at a now defunct restaurant. At the tip of Tibidabo, there was a spot that looked out across the entire city and the Mediterranean. (The restaurant there now just dispenses sandwiches and beer through a vending machine. Probably as a result of the economic downturn.)

With just a globe of lime sorbet, the waiter caressingly ladeled the coral liquid into my bowl and topped it with the slightest drizzle of extra virgin olive oil. Sheer heaven.

Since then, I have enjoyed gazpacho in Madrid and throughout Southwestern Spain. I’ve even bought it in containers like orange juice. At the supermarkets, there are a gazillion different brands to choose from. Some are better than others. I do prefer the Spanish version to the Latin American one. But I also appreciate the lower caloric intake on the latter.  Its counterpart, salmorejo, is also one of my favorites. That recipe, however, calls for more bread and is typically a little thicker in consistency.

Another version, often referred to as ajoblanco, is white gazpacho. With bread, olive oil, vinegar, garlic, and often times a ¼ cup of almonds, this too is a lovely cold soup. It’s a nice starter to a summer meal and, because most people don’t realize there is a white option, it’s just a little surprising.

Gazpacho is thick enough to support some lovely garnish, too. The white gazpacho looks great with diced tomatoes and cilantro sitting prettily on top. For the tomato base, diced cucumber is super nice. Or, for a meat blast, a strip of fried Serrano ham. Crunchy. Salty. Yum.

The recipe for the Latin American version is simple. Dump your chopped vegetables in a food processor with olive oil, vinegar, and cumin. I usually add a little heat with some jalapenos and hot sauce. Sambal, sriracha, or just good old Tabasco. Whatever I have on hand.

If you are going for the Spanish version, remember to soak your stale bread in water first and then squeeze it out. It’s all about the consistency and texture.

Here’s a version I often use without the bread:

2 lbs chopped tomatoes

1 yellow pepper

1 orange pepper

2 jalapenos

1 cucumber, seeded

2 garlic cloves

1 small red onion

1 bunch of cilantro

1 tsp salt

1 tsp black pepper

2 tsp cumin
2 tsp hot sauce

1 cup tomato juice

¼ cup lime juice

¼ cup extra virgin olive oil

¼ cup red wine vinegar

Blend. If you like it chunkier, don’t blend as long. If you like it smooth, you’ve got two options. Either lengthen the blending time or, instead of using a food processor, you can throw everything in a blender until it is all incorporated. Drizzle with olive oil, y Hola! Gazpacho. It's what’s for dinner!

Blueberries…

I grew up spending many of my summers in Maine. Fresh lobster. Fresh corn. Tomatoes! But oh, the blueberries... They were everywhere and it was fantastic. Blueberries in cream. Blueberries with yogurt and honey. Blueberry milkshakes. Blueberries with peaches. Blueberry pancakes. Blueberry muffins. There was an endless stream of blueberry anything.

As soon as August hits, I know blueberries will be my new best friend. Today was no exception. I went to Jones Family Farm in Shelton with two of my three daughters. (And they went willingly! How’s that for incredible parenting?!?) We picked for about an hour and got close to six pounds of those tiny sapphire globes.

Once home, the kitchen frenzy began. Blueberry cobbler, blueberry jam, and blueberry muffins jumped out. (I will be getting a little more creative as the last basket of berries stares at me, longingly.)

The jam was easy. Berries, sugar, and a little lemon juice. Done. Reduce and you’ve got tomorrow’s bread spread. The cobbler and the muffins were a little troublesome. The cobbler called for ½ cup of all-purpose flour. It probably needed a full cup because the topping, once baked, didn’t quite cover the berries the way it should have. And the muffins were super cute, but a little dry. I’m not sure it was the batter, just the amount of cooking time. So I’ll shave off a few minutes the next time.

As August slides into September and early October, savor the best of a late summer harvest. Enjoy the season. Winter will be here before you know it.

Corn!

Every year, I wait for it with baited breath: corn season. While it does signal the waning dog days of summer, it’s always a celebration of what makes summer great. Farm fresh produce at its best. Just picked. Plop the little golden ears in boiling water. A little butter. A little salt. Et voila! The simplest ingredients make for some fabulous eats.

In the last few years, there has been a push to grill corn with funky ingredients like chipotle peppers, cilantro and lime, chili powder and queso fresco, or even mayonnaise. But I am a purist when it comes to corn. Much like my attitude about a lot of foods, if it’s fresh then it’s great all by itself. No need to adulterate it. (To further illustrate the point, you have unleashed the third ring of Hell if you put drawn butter on fresh lobster. That’s for crazy people with no taste. Just FYI.)

I love all varieties of corn on the cob. Although there’s something to be said of the ubiquitous Butter & Sugar kind, there’s nothing better than an ear of Silver Queen. The platinum blonde of the corn world, she is succulent, crisp, and sweet all at the same time.

Regardless of variety, it is highly unlikely for corn to go uneaten in my house. However, there are times when our eyes have been bigger than our stomachs and we have leftover corn. What to do? Corn salad. I usually scrape the kernels off the cob into a bowl, mix it with some form of acid, add a few other crunchy veg, and add salt and pepper.

This recipe is a go-to for me:

4-5 ears of corn, cooked and cooled

2 small limes, zested and juiced

2 tsp. fresh cilantro

1 red bell pepper, diced

2 small jalapeños

Salt and pepper to taste

Carefully slice kernels off the cob into a bowl. (Best to lob off the tip so that you’ve got a flat surface to balance while scraping.) Add the peppers and cilantro. Dust with salt and pepper. Add the juice and zest. Mix and serve.

Enjoy the last bits of summer with all the corn you can eat!