Each month, when Gigi and I host the Third Thursday Community Pot Luck Dinner, we put our heads together a few days beforehand to decide what we want to make. Seasonality, of course, takes the front burner. What we find flourishing in our respective gardens figures prominently in the mix. And, then, it’s where ever else the kitchen muse directs us…

“Look at ALL these turtle beans,” Gigi said, bringing out bowls mounded with shiny purple-black pebbles. She placed them on her kitchen counter.
“I don’t know how farmers can make any money. I spent hours shelling them. I haven’t even calculated the time in planting, weeding, and harvesting.”

I nodded. “They are impressive,” I said. Who knew that you could grow black beans in Tennessee? “We will definitely showcase them in some way.”

“And, don’t forget, I have lots of peppers and garlic!” Gigi paused. “The cilantro’s gone, but its seeds are ready too.”

“Toasted coriander, ” I said.

I reminded her of the large bag—a lifetime supply, she believed–of quinoa stashed in her pantry. A Southwest themed salad, hearty, healthy, and protein-rich, seemed to be in the works…

But, what else would we make?

My little front yard farmette is but a speck, compared to Gigi’s Wedgewood Urban Gardens, however, my two lemon basil plants had grown into fragrant bushes. It would be nice to use the lot in a dish for the potluck.

I went home and stared into my own pantry—seeking a spark, a nudge, any ingredient to highlight the herb. I scanned over boxes of capellini, penne, fusilli, but pasta didn’t excite me. Brown rice, jasmine rice, arborio, no, they all seemed wrong.

Then I found a bag of bulgur wheat. Hmmmm. While parsley and mint are key to Tabouleh, it is a distinctly lemony salad. Why wouldn’t lemon basil work in place of parsley and mint?

Yes, friends, we have a winner!

In no time, I made a lemon basil pesto, which worked its lemon-scented magic in the cracked wheat. Not unlike tabouleh, but less green tasting, this salad was refreshing and summery, and turned out to be a complementary partner to the black bean-quinoa.

Side by side on the table, our potluck offerings were rather yin and yang, light and dark, crisp and soft, cool and spicy, citrus and chocolate….

LEMON BASIL CRACKED WHEAT SALAD
2 cups Cracked Bulgur Wheat
2 Lemons, for juice and zest
2 cloves Garlic
1/2 cup Olive Oil
1 bunch Lemon Basil leaves (about 1 1/2-2 cups)
Sea Salt
Fresh Ground Black Pepper
2 ripe Tomatoes, diced
1/2 Red Onion, diced

Soak cracked wheat in fresh water for at least 15 minutes and rinse well. Set aside in a bowl.
Using the food processor with a swivel blade, make a pesto using garlic, lemon basil leaves, lemon zest, lemon juice, and olive oil. Season with salt and pepper.

Stir lemon basil pesto into the cracked wheat. Stir in diced tomatoes and onion. Set into the fridge and allow the flavors to meld into the cracked wheat.

BLACK BEAN QUINOA SALAD
2 cups Black Beans, rinsed and picked over
2 T. Olive OIl
1 Onion, diced
1 Poblano Pepper, diced (or 2-3 Jalapenos)
2 cloves Garlic, minced
1 Tomato, chopped
1 t. Cumin
1 t. toasted Coriander Seed
1 cup Quinoa, rinsed three times, and drained
1 1/2 cups Water
1 Lime, for juice and zest
Salt
Red Pepper Flakes

For the Black Beans: (if fresh, there is no need to soak. If dried, soak the beans for at least 3 hours. Drain and rinse.)

In a 2 qt. saucepan, saute chopped onions and peppers in olive oil until onions are translucent. Add garlic and diced tomatoes. Season with cumin and coriander. Saute for 5 minutes. Add black beans and stir until beans are well coated. Add water to cover the beans, and simmer, covered, for 30 minutes. Skim off any foam that accumulates on the top and stir. Simmer until beans are soft but still intact. Can be prepared the day before and refrigerated.

For the Quinoa:
Heat a skillet and add the well-rinsed quinoa. Stir under medium heat to toast the grain—about 5 minutes. Add water and stir. Season with salt and red pepper flakes. Cook, covered, under low heat for 30 minutes.

To Assemble:
Stir the black beans into the quinoa mixture. Add lime zest and juice from one lime. Stir well. Sample for salt and heat, and adjust to taste.

Listen, what if I told you that the festive-as-confetti salad above was created using the stovetop for, say, five minutes. That’s the time it takes to boil less than 2 cups of water, right? Five minutes of cooking.

Sounds pretty compelling, especially when you consider the oppressive, in-the-nineties heat that barged in last week like an unwelcome guest—and has yet to pack up and leave.

But credible?

BELIEVE! This Too Good To Be True recipe is bonafide: Healthy, full of intriguing flavors and textures, Curried Fruit Couscous also requires almost no cooking.

This fabulous recipe comes courtesy of Michele Watkins Knaus, a chef and food activist currently living in Portland, Oregon. She worked for me several years ago, filling in while my right arm Tonya was on maternity leave. Later, we catered Michele’s wedding, and this was one of her specialties that she asked us to prepare.

The basic recipe serves 6-8 generously, and readily multiplies: Doubled, Quadrupled, Times Twelve, Times Twenty—-it’s one of those caterer’s dream recipes that can be made in mass quantities with exceptional results.

You can serve it mounded in large bowl, or molded into pretty individual servings. Eat it by itself, or along with salad greens. Or, take it uptown: Use it as a foundation for fancy-pants grilled sea scallops, or butter-sauteed trout.

Don’t be daunted by the list of ingredients. You already have some of the essentials in your pantry. For the rest, with a little forethought, and a quick trip to the grocery, you can assemble everything you need. The beauty of the dish is in the couscous itself.

Boiled water poured over the couscous in a bowl, stirred and sealed, cooks it to fluffy perfection. While the tiny pasta grains sit in that bowl, effortlessly absorbing the water, you can shred carrots, slice dried apricots, chop flat leaf parsley.

The dressing whisks up in a heartbeat. The yogurt binds the oil and vinegar, and serves as a terrific vehicle for the spice. Vegan friends can substitute a soy based yogurt; that’s all it takes to make it vegan friendly.

You may want to double the Curried Yogurt Dressing, and save half to drizzle over some salad greens, or grilled chicken, alongside your couscous.

The colorful array combines to make a satisfying summer dish, spice and sweet, fast and cool. Thanks, Michele!

CURRIED FRUIT COUSCOUS adapted from Michele Watkins Knaus

The Couscous
1 ½ cups Couscous
1 ½ cups Water
½ t. Kosher Salt

The Curried Yogurt Dressing
¼ c. Plain Yogurt
¼ cup Olive Oil
1 t. White Balsamic or White Wine Vinegar
1 t. Curry Powder
½ t. Turmeric
1 t. Kosher Salt
1 t. fresh ground Black Pepper
dash of crushed Red Pepper Flakes

The Salad Fruits-Veggies-Nuts
½ c. Carrots, shredded
½ c. Flat Leaf Parsley,coarsely chopped
½ c. Dried Apricots, slivered and diced
½ c. Golden Raisins
¼ c. Toasted Almonds, chopped
3 Scallions, chopped, green tops included

Place couscous into medium bowl . Add ½ t. to 1 ½ c. water and bring to a boil. Pour over the couscous and quickly stir. Cover tightly with plastic wrap—the couscous will absorb the water and be cooked in 5 minutes. Remove wrap and fluff with a fork.

Whisk together: yogurt, olive oil, vinegar, curry powder, turmeric, salt, black and red peppers. Pour over the couscous, and stir until all is well coated.

Add all the dried fruits, nuts, carrots, parsley and stir well. Serve in a large bowl, or make individual molds by pressing the salad firmly into a small bowl, and then invert onto a salad plate.

Serves 6-8

A couple of weeks ago Gigi called me from her Wedgewood Urban Gardens, positively ecstatic. “You are never going to believe what I found in the garden today. Never!”

Her garden is a vast oasis in an otherwise sketchy part of town, the lower lot filled now with all manner of herbs, blooming flowers, greens, fennel, and fruit trees—the upper acre has rows and rows dedicated to tomatoes, beans, squashes, asparagus, beets. I couldn’t imagine what she had discovered.

Before I could even hazard a guess, her voice boomed,

“Raspberries! American Black Raspberries! I didn’t even know I had these plants. The birds didn’t know either. They are HUGE.”

The next day, I met her at the garden to do some picking. Wow. Rushes of berries were coming in—in addition to her plump black raspberries, she had plants covered with red and, gasp, golden raspberries. Fantastic! I had never seen golden raspberries growing before. Never!

We moved with care from bush to bush, examining the little gems, selecting the ripest–the ones that come off in your hand with the least effort. The sun was hot, the canes a bit prickly, but no matter. We were in raspberry heaven.

With our community pot luck on the horizon, we wanted to be sure to include these precious fruits in some special dishes.

Raspberry cobbler was a given. And Gigi was vying for a Raspberry Barbecue Sauce for grilled chicken. (Sounds strange, but I did make it at the last minute– without a recipe–for our cookout and it turned out really well—that’s another post…)

But I wanted to make something to showcase the raspberries—especially those goldens—so you could actually see them before you ate them.

Gigi also had a nice crop of beets getting fat in the ground, bulging above the soil. I had a vision of a stacked salad: layers of sliced roasted beets on top of frisee, followed by goat cheese, then the red and golden raspberries. I’d make a vinaigrette from the black raspberries and drizzle it over each layer. The colors and flavors would be knock-out.

This raspberry vinaigrette is different from the ones we’ve all seen and tasted for the past 20 plus years. Because it’s made with gently cooked berries and not berry-infused vinegar, the dressing is thick and intensely sweet-tart raspberry.

Honestly, it would be equally delicious spooned over ice cream. In fact, the whole beet-berry salad stack had a spectacular reeling Sundae dessert look to it. Heavenly…

Stacked Roasted Beet-Raspberry Salad
Mixed Greens or Frisee
6 Roasted Beets, sliced
4 oz. Goat Cheese
1 pint Fresh Raspberries
Black Raspberry Vinaigrette (recipe below)

Place a layer of salad greens on the base of platter. Lay out slices of roasted beets in a circle on top of the greens. Sprinkle with goat cheese, then with raspberries. Drizzle with raspberry vinaigrette, and repeat the stack.
serves 6

Black Raspberry Vinaigrette
1 cup Black Raspberries (or red!)
3 T. Sugar
3 T. Red Wine Vinegar
4 T. Balsamic Vinegar
Salt
Black Pepper
1 c. Extra Virgin Olive Oil

In a saucepan, gently cook the raspberries and sugar together, until the berries release their juices and the sugar dissolves. Remove from heat.
Place into a food processor fitted with a swivel blade. Add vinegars, a little salt and coarse ground black pepper, and pulse together. Drizzle in the olive oil while processing until vinaigrette is thickened and emulsified. Taste and adjust for sweetness, acid, salt and pepper.

This tasty dish is the result of neighbors passing on the street.

Bill was making his early morning march up one side of Belmont when Ray, in similar purposeful stride down the other, hailed him with this request.

“We’re going to be in California later this week for Quinn and Jane’s wedding,” he said. “My beans are coming in. Blueberries too. They’ll need to be picked. I figure you and Nancy would actually go pick them.”

Yep, Ray figured right.

An avid urban gardener for many years, Ray has always cultivated meticulous–and flourishing– vegetable beds in his backyard. Last year he gave me a couple of pounds of his pride-and-joy: haricots verts, delicate green beans that you barely steam in preparation—so good!

This past Sunday morning, before the day heated up beyond bearing, Bill and I slipped into Ray’s garden. Boy, is it impressive: Carefully mulched tomato plants, flowering, filling up their cages… lush fat bushes of genovese basil…umbrella-like leaves of squash plants, shielding the baby yellow crooknecks and striped cocozelle Italians from the baking sun. And, a formidable construction of frame and chicken wire protecting the many blueberry bushes from the onslaught of greedy birds.

We found the beans growing in compact rows, now laden with two varieties: those sleek french verts, and sweet yellow wax. It didn’t take long to amass a pretty pile of them.

Aren’t they gorgeous?

When we finished picking, we hurried home. These begged to be cooked and eaten immediately. And, I had a plan for them, inspired by friend Maggie. She combines young green beans with new potatoes in a creamy aioli type dressing made with olive oil, garlic, pecorino, and a smidge of Hellmans mayo. She and I made it for lunch one day last summer after puttering in her garden, picking her beans. It was one of those simple memorable meals—fresh as it gets.

To the batch I like to add some chopped flat leaf parsley and onion. If you have any chives, or chive flowers, put that in too! But, make no mistake, the little bit of mayo is key. It adds more body—more creaminess—-to the dressing.

It’s a perfect match with the creamy nature of those new potatoes, which break down ever-so-slightly, post boil: Both coat the beans with terrific flavor.

You’ll appreciate not only the simplicity but the versatility of our bean-potato meld. It makes a delicious side dish, and is equally satisfying on a bed of greens, as a main meal.

It works served slightly warm, or room temperature. Eat it as soon as you make it–we are going for real immediacy here.

But, I love this just as much the next day, chilled. The flavors get the chance to settle in nicely. The garlic mellows. The pecorino provides a salty sharp surprise.

And the beans….mmm…they retain sweet pop and crunch.

So, a shout-out and praise to neighbor Ray. He’s growing some righteous lean, supreme, green-and-yellow beans! Salut!

Green Bean-Yellow Bean-New Potato Salad
1 lb. fresh Green and/or Yellow Wax Beans
1 lb. Baby Yukon Gold (or any other small new potato)
Garlic Scapes, or 2 cloves Garlic, minced
4 Green Onions, sliced
1/4 c. chopped Italian Parsley
1/4 c. shredded Pecorino Romano (large shreds, or shaves)
1/4 c. Olive Oil
3 T. Hellman’s Mayo
1 T. White Wine Vinegar
Sea Salt and Black Pepper to taste

Cook new potatoes in lightly salted water until done—tender when pierced with a knife tip. (6-8 minutes)

Bring a wide skillet filled with water to a boil. Plunge in the beans, blanche for 1-2 minutes and remove. (Haricots verts will cook in a minute, or less. The yellow wax beans take longer.)

In a bowl, whisk together olive oil, garlic, onions, parsley, pecorino, and mayo. Stir in vinegar. Season with salt and black pepper.

Slice warm potatoes into a bowl. Add blanched beans. Pour dressing over all and toss until well coated. Taste for salt and pepper. Serves 4 as main dish, or 8 sides.

In the wake of The Flood, damage to area farms has varied widely. Our friends at Turnbull Creek and Drury Family Farms report that they were relatively unscathed; “Can’t complain about a thing,” says John.

Once the turbulent waters of Leiper’s Creek receded, Allie and Matthew of Arugula’s Star were surprised to find more clinging on in the fields than expected, a testament to the strength of sugar snap tendrils. Their chickens were safe “on the bald,” and a higher-ground patch of luscious strawberries remained intact, flourishing, a sweet gift in light of other devastation.

The Hershbergers, an Amish family who practice organic, bio-dynamic farming, lost every possession, a tragic wipe-out of home and furnishings, greenhouse, and horses.

A visit to Wedgewood Urban Gardens found a large pecan tree downed, crushing some newly emerged rows of veggies, along with some general plant thrashing and wash-out. But amid the beaten down and churned up earth, much was thriving.

Look at what I gathered, gorgeous variations of purples and greens : mixed baby lettuces and arugula, icicle and red radishes, sweet scallions, a few stray spears of asparagus from the battered thicket. And from the stands of lush herbs: flowering chives, thyme, featherlike sprigs of tarragon, and clumps of curly parsley.

I carried them out of the garden, bundled in my arms like a wedding bouquet.

The tender lettuces and profusion of herbs brought to mind Green Goddess dressing–a little retro, I know. Not the bottled goop made by Seven Seas, but the real deal, the true Goddess, replete with garden herbs, fresh and slightly pungent, creamy-thick.

You’ll find recipes for this dressing that use sour cream, also anchovies.
I live with a vegetarian, and so must sidestep the little fish. I have also found that the sour cream can muffle the bright herbal flavors.

I like to make a green goddess-like aioli, chockful of chives, tarragon, and parsley. A little acid support comes from lemon and white balsamic vinegar, and thickening power from egg. The olive oil lets the goddess shine.

I like to coarsely chop the herbs together first.

The herbs quickly emulsify into this creamy-green aioli. The asparagus in the skillet below are grilled in a little olive oil and fresh thyme.

And, you’ll find that this aioli is a rather versatile goddess: a smashing dip for sugar snap peas,
a lively spread on a roast chicken sandwich, and divine, as blobbed onto the composed salad here, using all those good elements that I gathered in the wake.

GREEN GODDESS AIOLI
3 sprigs of fresh Tarragon
1 bundle fresh Chives
1 bunch fresh Parsley
2 T. fresh Lemon Juice
1 T. White Balsamic (or white wine) Vinegar
1 T. Lemon Zest
1 t. Salt
1 Egg
1 cup Olive Oil

Strip the leaves off the sprigs of tarragon and pinch off clusters of parsley. Coarsely chop together with the chives. Place all the herbs into a food processor fitted with the swivel blade. Add lemon juice and zest, vinegar, and salt. Pulse together gently for 15 seconds. Add egg. Mix, and drizzle in olive oil while machine is running. The aioli will become a creamy green, almost as thick as mayonnaise. Taste for salt. Refrigerate.

This will keep, covered and refrigerated, for 3-5 days.

Post Script
Many thanks to all who have expressed interest and concern about the plight of many—farmers and urban dwellers alike—who suffered extreme losses. It’s been surreal. It will take a long time (and, a whole lotta cash) for our city to recover from the widespread destruction. It has been gratifying to see all who have been volunteering en masse to clean up, make food, offer shelter.

While the great Arctic mass of frigid air made its way down South, we stayed huddled in the house, in a semi-zombie-hibernation mode. We were not at our best: wearing many layers and lumbering about our humble (and drafty) abode both clumsily and with reluctance. Hunkered over our bowls of oatmeal and potato soup like refugees from the Western Front.

We Nashvillians just don’t do 8 degrees very well.

One evening, though, I made up this cheery cold plate. This combination struck just the right notes—earthy to neutral to floral—-firm to creamy to juicy—vegetable, fruits, greens. Plus, a little dollop of goat cheese.

And color! Pretty winter pastels to brighten the dull gray of January, the dreariest of refugee mindsets. The golden beets lead the way, marvelous ringed discs capturing the light. Add in slices of avocado and ruby grapefruit and the color trio reminds me of sherbet, or some long-ago popsicle blend from the Good Humor man.

This composed salad plate is simple to make, as long as you have the right ingredients on hand: a grapefruit, an avocado, some leafy salad greens, a little goat cheese, and those beets—the only thing you’ll have to cook.

Brush the beets with a little olive oil, loosely wrap in foil and roast in a hot oven for 25-30 minutes. Once, cool enough to handle, the skin should slip off without much trouble.

The Chili-Grapefruit Vinaigrette has just the right fire to wake up the palate. Toast some crusty wheat bread, spread a little chevre, and know that this season moves as quickly as any.

Chili-Grapefruit Vinaigrette
1 Tablespoon Grapefruit Zest
3 Tablespoons Grapefruit Juice
2 teaspoons Chili Powder
1 Tablespoon White Wine Vinegar
pinch of salt and sugar to taste
pinch of cayenne
1/2 cup Olive Oil or Walnut Oil

In a small mixing bowl, add zest, juice, chili powder, vinegar, salt and sugar. Cayenne, too, if you like. Whisk together. Continue whisking as you add the oil; it should readily emulsify.

Spoon a little vinaigrette over leafy greens and toss until the greens are lightly coated. Mound onto plates. Add sliced beet, sliced avocado and grapefruit, goat cheese and drizzle these with the dressing too. Enjoy!

For some time now, great recipes that pair sweet watermelon with briny feta cheese have been circulating the ‘net. I offer my version, of which I am especially fond, because:

1. The sherry vinaigrette, fresh oregano, and sharp red onion bring sweet and salt together with Spanish-Mediterranean flair. (The clusters of Thai basil growing in my garden make a pretty side garnish, and a chiffonade of a few leaves add a licorice note to the salad—an optional note—but a complementary one.)

2. I use award-winning Bonnie Blue Goat Feta (no old socks pungency here.) So fresh!

3. I am now an official Grower of Delicious Watermelons, and have the misguided sense that my watermelons are the best…

Here’s our watermelon story:
My brother’s graphic design studio is located in a little house in Berry Hill, whose sunny back yard has been the decades-long site of next-door neighbor Hooper’s garden. When Mr. Hooper, alas, moved into assisted living this spring, my brother proposed that Bill and I continue the Hooper tradition. I happily agreed, but was unable to get the garden tilled and planted until late June.

Volunteer plants and seeds donated by friend Maggie comprised our plantings.
Included was a cluster of sprouted watermelon seeds that I snapped up from her compost heap. At one end of our garden, we created four large mounds of dirt, amply spaced, into which Bill placed every sprouted seed.

“Don’t you think we should thin those?” I asked.

“No,” Bill said, packing fistfuls of seedlings into the dirt hills. “This will work out fine.”

Needless to say, in short order, the garden plot became overrun with dogged watermelon vines. They bullied the zucchini, trekked up cornstalks, snaked around sunflowers, venturing past the grassy garden edge and into the driveway. No stopping them!

In watermelon world, it’s a 90 day cycle from germination to ready-to-pick. And, in that time, hidden beneath all the greenery, those vines produced plenty of mighty nice melons. Late in the season, we have begun harvesting the wiley ones..

This beauty weighed in at 17 lbs….

…and was deeply colored and sugared!

Watermelon batons, sliced red onion, and fresh oregano, just before dressing

Sherry vinegar is distinctive and full flavored.

A pinch of coarse grain mustard helps to emulsify to vinaigrette, and gives the dressing a creamy yellow-brown hue.

Sherry Vinaigrette

3 T. Sherry Vinegar
1 t. Fresh Oregano
¼ t. Coarse Grain Mustard
¼ t. Salt
pinch Red Pepper Flakes
9 T. Olive Oil

Mix the first five ingredients in a small bowl. Whisk in the olive oil, one tablespoon at a time, until the vinaigrette emulsifies. Taste for seasonings and adjust if needed.

Watermelon-Feta Salad

3 cups Ripe Watermelon, cut into batons
½ medium Red Onion, sliced paper-thin
½ cup Feta cheese, crumbled
a handful Fresh Oregano leaves, chopped
Fresh Thai Basil (optional) chiffonade and garnish
Salt & Black Pepper

Salad Greens

recipe of Sherry Vinaigrette

Place cut batons of melon with sliced red onion and chopped oregano into a bowl. Sprinkle with a little salt and black pepper. Let it sit for 15 minutes and drain off any excess liquid. Pour sherry vinaigrette over the mix, add crumbled feta, and gently toss.

Place onto a bed of salad greens. Garnish with fresh herbs and serve. Makes 2 large or 4 regular servings.

The feta adheres nicely to the watermelon bites. As the salad sits, there is some pooling of watermelon juice, delicious for sopping.

A fine early fall lunch on Maggie’s back porch

Sad but inevitable, about this time every year tomato fatigue sets in.

For weeks now, with markets and gardens glutted, I’ve cooked and eaten ripe, juicy tomatoes in countless delicious ways. So much so that when I look at the sea of red baskets at our farmers market or the one that happens to be sitting on my counter, brimming with those picked from my own garden, I feel……….worn out.

And maybe a wee bit guilty. I mean, in a few short weeks, the Tomato Time will be over.

For now, with plants still producing, (although less prolific, as daylight shrinks, temperatures cool) it’s time to switch to the Green.

There’s something special about fried green tomatoes that I did not come to appreciate until recent years. When fried, what appears to be firm and without flavor, softens and releases a tangy citrus essence. A surprise with bite! The salty crackle of cornmeal batter is a splendid complement.

Of course, they are tasty on their own, but if you don’t want to eat just fried food—–

Here’s a late summer salad that uses the fried green wonder as its centerpiece. It layers pungent heat from mature arugula and horseradish with the sweetness of green tomatoes and shrimp.

I had gotten peppery hot rocket leaves from Drury Farms to form the salad base. Horseradish cream sauce tops the stack of fried ‘maters, performing double duty as a foil for the lemon-poached shrimp. All the elements work together brightly to create a fresh, satisfying meal.

Without fatigue.

Sliced, these green tomatoes look very pretty.

A little flour lightens the cornmeal coating. A simple soak in buttermilk is all the slices need.

Fried Green Tomatoes
1 cup Cornmeal
¼ cup All Purpose Flour
Salt
Cayenne
Black Pepper

1 cup Buttermilk

Firm, green tomatoes, sliced 1/4 “ thick

Vegetable oil (like canola oil) for frying

Mix cornmeal well with flour and seasonings.
Dip tomato slices into buttermilk, then dredge in cornmeal mixture.
Heat skillet and add vegetable oil. Test for and fry tomato slices about 2-4 minutes per side—until golden brown. Drain on paper towels.

Horseradish Cream Sauce
1 cup Sour cream
½ cup Good Mayo (Hellmann’s or Duke’s)
2 heaping Tablespoons Horseradish
1 teaspoon fresh Lemon juice
½ teaspoon Louisiana Hot Sauce
½ teaspoon Salt
Pinch Cayenne

Whisk all the ingredients together until well blended. Taste for horseradish and add more if necessary. Keeps refrigerated for at least 2 weeks.

Poached Gulf Shrimp
½ lb. shrimp (this will serve 2-3, I used a 21-26ct.shrimp)

Poaching Liquid:
To 2 quarts of water add:
A few slices of Onion
1-2 sliced Garlic cloves
1 Bay Leaf
a few slices Lemon
1 teaspoon Sea Salt
½ teaspoon Celery Seed,
½ teaspoon Black Pepper
¼ teaspoon Red Pepper flakes

Bring poaching liquid to a rolling boil, plunge in shrimp. Cook for 3-4 minutes and remove from heat. Peel, devein, and chill shrimp.

The Assembly
On a salad plate, place bed of mixed greens or arugula.
Stack fried green tomato slices. Dollop with Horseradish Cream.
Place shrimp on top of the horseradish sauce.
Garnish with lemon slices, and serve.

Summer is fleeting. I awoke this morning to cool, crisp air moving through the house: 59 degrees! So rare on this last day of August in Nashville Tennessee, so telling of the season to come.

These are days to savor outdoors: Clear skies, warm, steady light. There’s still a bounty coming in the garden–corn, squashes, melons, beans, tomatoes. Basil plants the size of shrubs. Today, we’ll enjoy a lunch made with some of these summer garden elements, and relish them at our backyard table.

This tortellini salad is similar to one we always served at the café years ago–with some updates. For a pleasing variety in color, taste, and texture, I recommend using both green snap and yellow wax beans, if you have them at your disposal. And, this salad is the perfect place to toss in an assortment of grape and cherry tomatoes. I used my Cherub grapes, Husky cherries and the brilliant Sungolds. In café days, I had dressed this in balsamic vinaigrette–long on flavor, but less visually appealing , with its flat brown color. With all my basil begging to be picked, I’m going for a pesto vinaigrette. It delivers the flavor, while allowing the salad to shimmer.

Summer Tortellini Salad
1/2 lb. fresh green beans
1/2 lb. fresh yellow wax beans
1/2 lb. fresh (or frozen) cheese stuffed tortellinis
1 pint cherry (or grape) tomatoes–assorted reds and sungolds
1/4 cup toasted pinenuts
1/4 cup basil chiffonade

1 cup Pesto Vinaigrette

Fill a skillet with water and bring to a boil for blanching the beans. Set up a large bowl of ice water. If you are cooking two types of beans, cook them separately. Wash and snap beans–pinching off the stem and place into boiling water. Blanche for 4 minutes. Plunge into the icy water bath to shock them—stop the cooking process. Drain well and place into a salad bowl.

In the same pot of water, cook the cheese tortellinis, about nine minutes. Drain and add to the bowl with beans. Wash, dry and cut the cherry or grape tomatoes into halves or quarters—depending on size—and add to the salad, along with the toasted pine nuts. Pour vinaigrette over all and toss well.

Garnish with a chiffonade of fresh basil.

You might enjoy this served on a bed of fresh greens, or by itself, with a piece of crusty bread to sop up the dressing.

Serves 6 generously.

Pesto Vinaigrette

1 clove fresh Garlic
1 cup Basil leaves
1 teaspoon Sea Salt
1/2 teaspoon Black Pepper
1/4 cup Red Wine Vinegar
3/4 cup Fruity Olive Oil

Place the first five ingredients into a food processor fitted with the swivel blade and pulse until basil and garlic are well chopped. Then, slowly drizzle in the olive oil while processing, until well-incorporated. Taste for seasoning and adjust if necessary.

Makes one cup.

One potato, two potato, three potato, four….bushels!

These days, everyone’s CSA share baskets are spud-loaded.
Baby yukon golds, fingerlings, heirloom purple caribes, butte russets…

Even our own easement guerrilla garden experiment with sprouted eyes has been productive. As the vines die back, I’ve been digging and unearthing a surprising number of red new potatoes, most the size of a golf ball, and a few the size of my fist. Miraculous, I tell you.

With all these potatoes comes the need for new recipes. And while these tubers will keep for a spell in a cool place, they are also meant to be enjoyed now!

This French Roasted Potato Salad is delicious, healthy, and simple; the pommery vinaigrette makes it. We teach this recipe in our teen cooking camp as part of a menu that includes marinated grilled flank steak and asparagus salad with lemon aioli. It’s one that’s well-loved by adults and kids alike.

The salad is tasty whether it’s served warm or room temperature. And, unlike mayo-based versions, there are no worries about the dish sitting out too long, going out of temperature, and forming enough toxins to do in your father’s side of the family at the reunion.

Take it to the picnic fearlessly.

>

French Roasted Potato Salad
2-3 lbs New Potatoes, cleaned, dried, and cut into medium thick slices
(or try another potato–white, yukon gold, fingerling, or a variety)
1 medium Onion, sliced
Olive Oil
Sea Salt
Black Pepper
fresh Rosemary–a few sprigs
1 cup pommery vinaigrette (recipe below)
1/2 cup chopped fresh Italian Parsley
1 bunch Scallions, chopped

Preheat oven to 400 degrees. Place sliced potatoes and onions on a roasting pan and toss with olive oil until all is well coated. Sprinkle with sea salt, black pepper, and chopped fresh rosemary. Roast until browned, about 25-30 minutes. With a slotted spoon, remove the potatoes and onions and place into a mixing bowl. Pour the pommery vinaigrette right onto the roasting pan, scraping up the browned bits and pieces of onion and potatoes as the vinaigrette deglazes the pan. Pour over the potatoes and toss well. Taste and adjust seasoning. Garnish with chopped fresh Italian parsley and scallions. Serve warm or room temperature.

Serves 10-12

Pommery Vinaigrette

¼ cup Red Wine Vinegar
1 Tablespoon Coarse Grain (pommery) Mustard
1 clove minced garlic
½ teaspoon Salt
¼ teaspoon coarse grain black Pepper
Pinch sugar
½ cup Extra Virgin Olive Oil