There are quick dinners I make because I need dinner on the table. Then there are quick dinners I make because I still respect them. This is the second kind.
There are quick dinners I make because I need dinner on the table. Then there are quick dinners I make because I still respect them. This is the second kind.
In July, dessert starts outside. Peaches go on the grill with sugar, olive oil, cardamom, cinnamon, salt, and ginger, then get finished with something cold, something sharp, and a little crunch.
Rotisserie chicken has a reputation, and I know every part of it. I also know when I need the shortcut, what to do with it once I get it home, and why I do not apologize for that anymore.
In Atlanta, I made what I thought was just an appetizer — toasted bread, tomatoes, cheese, basil, lemon juice, and balsamic. Then we kept eating, the martinis stayed cold, and nothing else felt necessary.
Around 2:00, the day starts to creep up on me. The morning coffee is gone, the AC is working hard, and that is usually when I make a doppio with a long strip of lemon peel and try to get my hands around the rest of the day.
Summer does not arrive in my kitchen on a specific date. It creeps in with thicker air, Florida fruit, and the moment I realize dinner has to make sense for the room I am standing in.