For much of the year, we follow a regular Saturday schedule: the dump; the farmers market in Barryville; Riverbrook Farm, Silver Heights Nursery and the dairy farm in Cochecton. It's an intense session of locavore foraging and so deeply satisfying. Whatever produce we're not getting from our own garden we get from Riverbrook Farm (along with fresh eggs and some goat and lamb meat), but they don't grow fruit, so we've been lucky to have a steady stream from some lovely people at the Barryville farmers market. We've had red currants, gooseberries, strawberries, apricots, blackberries, at least 8 varieties of raspberries, all kinds of plums (golden, red, sugar, black, Italian), delectable peaches (white and yellow) and now crisp, flavorful apples have begun to make an appearance. My pantry shelves hold jars of plum preserves. Tucked away in my freezer, along with the tomato sauce, are liter freezer bags filled with blackberries, raspberries and peaches. The trick to freezing berries is to spread them first on parchment-lined cookie sheets. Then, once frozen, slide the little nuggets into ziploc freezer bags or other airtight containers. This way, all year long you can have sorbet, ice cream, smoothies and even pie that taste of sweet summer. Speaking of sorbet, I made one with blackberries that was so divine, I can't resist making it again right away.
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The fruits of one's own garden just seem to taste sweeter. Our first patty pan squash, Japanese eggplants and scallions went on the grill, along with red carrots and sweet onions from the farm. With a radicchio salad in a creamy dressing, that was all we needed for dinner the other night. I made a dipping sauce for the vegetables with an earthy red miso and it truly was perfection. A grill can really change the way you eat, especially if you live in LA or some other temperate climate. As irresistible as that charred flavor can be, I want you to be aware that too much blackened food is not good for you. Burning food produces a group of substances (polycyclic aromatic hydrocarbons) that are associated with cancer, cardiovascular toxicity and immune system suppression, among other adverse effects. So avoid extreme charring of your food, and don't eat from the grill every day. Moderation really is the key. (Except when it comes to exercise, of course.) But don't despair! You can use you grill to cook in a number of ways that don't involve charring but still infuse your food with that delicious smoky flavor. Low and slow, as in our pulled pork for instance, or indirect cooking, which really is the best way to do chicken or other foods that tend to burn quickly.
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Having already waxed poetic about peaches, I feel I must give these luscious apricots their due. Seldom have I seen such perfect specimens, firm yet yielding, their golden hue tinged with a pink blush. I find that so often apricots can be mealy and tasteless, but these are a revelation: sweet-tart, juicy, with a delicate perfume all their own. I came away from the farmstand with 7 quarts and every intention of replicating the vanilla-scented jam my mother-in-law so enjoyed 2 years ago. If you've never made jam, let me just warn you that most recipes call for what seems like an obscene amount of sugar, but there is another way. This time I decided to make a batch using some powdered pectin and relatively small amounts of sugar and honey. Sadly, I wasn't totally thrilled with the results. I found the jam to be less crystalline; it seemed to have a slightly cloudy and over-gelled quality. I probably need to experiment a bit more, with quantities and timing, but I just haven't had the extra time lately. So for now, I'm going to put these up the old-fashioned, and use organic sugar. It's not like jam is something that gets eaten by the cupful anyway...
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A bowl of white peaches sat on the counter, their rosy, fuzzy curves as innocent and perfect as those of a child. Their sweet fragrance would waft towards me whenever I walked past and, after a few days, they hovered at that turning point of ripeness that demands attention. My freezer already held a bag of white peach purée, ready to recreate the bellini of my dreams, exemplified by that one on a freezing January day at the crowded, overheated bar at Harry's in Venice, surely among the most glamorous and decadent meals of my life. (When you go there, stick to bellinis and panini at the bar.) There were six peaches—too many to simply eat out of hand now that they were on the verge of going soft. How then to take advantage of these delicate creatures?
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There comes a time every summer when I fetishize plums. When I lived in Los Angeles, I got to know many different varieties: Santa Rosa, Greengage (Reine Claude), Damson, pluots and more. And somewhere tucked away, I still have a recipe for a lightly sweet and dry cake studded with juicy Italian plums I got from the Times more than 2 decades ago. I'll share it with you a bit later in the summer, when those plums are at their peak. I prefer plums when they are ice cold and rather firm, juicy but still a little tart. Still, I'm not opposed to popping a yielding little sugarplum into my mouth and licking its sweet syrup from my fingers. But before I go all Nigella on you, I want to tell you about a quick and easy way to make spicy plum pickles. Sometimes you buy a few too many, or you just can't eat one more right now and they're about to pass their prime, and that's when you might consider this recipe.

It's hot. And evidently it's hot everywhere. A record-setting year. 113 degrees in Baghdad. 122 in Kuwait. Tempers must be running high. Even the most verbose turn laconic. So I'll just say one word: Popsicles. And maybe I'll just add: Easy. Cooling. Refreshing. Light. (My cat looks like a mink throw tossed onto the windowsill.) Take these recipes and run with them. (Or walk very slowly, fanning yourself with a large palm leaf.) Substitute whatever fruits you have on hand; use a little sugar, honey or agave; try a bit of cream instead of the yogurt, or no dairy at all. G is about to try an herbal protocol from the multi-talented Bryan Thomson, and he can't have dairy for a minimum of 6 weeks, but I can't promise I'll be that restrained. (I'm quite addicted to my morning chai made with raw milk. I even had it today, and promptly almost passed out from the heat! Surely not an Ayurvedically-approved choice...) Anyway, basta with the chit-chat. Whiz up these popsicles in no time flat and you can lie prostrate on your hardwood floor, covered with a wet towel, and eat several while watching the entire season of Dexter which you've wisely downloaded from iTunes. I used these molds which I recommend with reservation. They make a nice shape but getting the stick in at the right height was challenging. (I really wanted these but they are expensive and weren't available right away. Plus they come from a site called The Tickle Trunk. WTF?) Even though Jake Godby, the wizard behind the Bay Area's Humphrey Slocombe, wouldn't deign to offer you such a pedestrian combo as strawberry-rhubarb, I do it with pride. For you flavor snobs out there (and I know none of you is actually reading this blog), there's always the esoteric tang of wild lime to the rescue.
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I know, I know. Another creamy, icy, indulgent treat. Don't be mad at me. It's that time of year. Besides this rich and delicious ice cream is completely dairy-free and can be made with no added sweetener. Its secret ingredient? Bananas! I happen to be a huge fan of banana ice cream, so when my sister-in-law forwarded me a year-old link to this recipe on Apartment Therapy's The Kitchn, I was excited to try it. Theirs called simply for frozen bananas whipped in a food processor, but I added a few extra ingredients in very small quantities—maple syrup, lemon juice, crème fraîche and cinnamon. Feel free to customize it according to your own flavor fetishes, but consider peanut butter, chocolate, cardamom, coconut milk and lime (but probably not all together). And remember, bananas are a great source of potassium, magnesium and vitamin C. They're also full of fructooligosaccharide, a prebiotic that helps colonize your intestine with good bacteria. As if you needed another reason to try this...
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Rhubarb abounds at the moment. Driving along the little country roads out here, you see many a luxuriant patch with broad, lofty, ruffly green leaves and the occasional gorgeous flower soaring above. The markets are full of the celery-like stalks in shades that range from rose to raspberry. I'd been feeling a tad deficient for having produced such adamantly green rhubarb, but then I looked up the variety we planted and it turns out Victoria rhubarb is meant to be green! Naturally, it's not the one most commercially favored, since everyone is attracted to the gaudy red stuff, but I'm now quite proud of my green stalks with the discreet hint of pink at the very base. It tastes just as wonderful, and I find the color makes a lovely counterpoint to the vivid strawberries with which it's so often paired. Food52 continues to be an inspiration (even though my strawberry-fennel ice cream, nominated last week, did not win—#$@$%#!), and I think you'll love this simple but flavorful poached rhubarb that I've topped with strawberry preserves that deliver a bit of heat. Make it now, before all that beautiful red (or green) rhubarb has seen its best days.
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Yes, I know, you think I'm senile and posting again about that divine strawberry-fennel ice cream. Wrong. It's yet another wickedly delicious fruit ice cream. Who knew? I was never a huge fan of this genre, tending to pass over the Graeter's black raspberry in favor of the coffee or caramel or mint chip. But this is one of the most delectable flavors EVER. I don't know if it has to do with the raw milk or the brilliant orange egg yolks straight from the farm, but I'm thinking it's about the way the slightly tart and wonderfully intense flavor of the raspberries plays off the unctuous custard. Because we were impatient, I didn't wait for the custard to cool completely before putting it in the ice cream maker, and then we were unwilling to wait for it to harden in the freezer. The result was almost like frozen whipped cream (um, that's what it is, right?) and we had to shovel the stuff in quickly before it could melt.
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In yet another attempt to resolve his GI issues, G is going to start a new herbal protocol given to him by herbalist extraordinaire Bryan Thomson. It's going to require him to abstain from all dairy for 6 weeks. Out of solidarity, I will do the same. That means that we must quickly polish off this delectable strawberry ice cream that I made with the über-ripe berries we brought back from Stephanie's last weekend. Always looking for a new place to try my expensive and highly coveted fennel pollen, I added a teaspoon here and I think it really worked. You could omit it, or even try using a few toasted and ground fennel seeds. The ice cream's gorgeous pink color is from a puree that's stirred into the custard. Then, once the ice cream is almost done, you toss some chunks into the machine to get mixed in. That way you get some icy bites of strawberry to break up the smooth and creamy texture. Who needs rose-colored glasses?
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