Second because there are free prints in this post that you can download and print as a little gift from my studio to you; and the third because this is still a list of my favorite things.

This is the time of year for lists, not shopping lists, but lists of virtually everything else – lists of the most important world events, top fashion trends of the year, the biggest storms, the sexiest man, the best movies, the most popular celebrities, the most reviled despots, the biggest disasters, the best selling books, and even a list of  top time-wasters.

Print Winter Tree

With these lists as inspiration, I’ve compiled my top ten list of food favorites for 2010, and in a nod to Mr. Letterman, they are listed in reverse order of delight. To celebrate the New Year, I’ve created four prints that celebrate the seasons of the year. They can be downloaded and printed by clicking on the links below each image.

#10 Butter Poached Rhubarb – Combining the best of Julia Child, butter, and the best of James Beard, cream, I melted a stick of butter in a skillet, sprinkled in one cup of granulated sugar and cooked it for about five minutes. When the sugar had begun to caramelize and turned a light brown, I added four cups of rhubarb, cut in two inch slices, shook the pan vigorously to coat the rhubarb and cooked it until it was starting to fall apart. I took the pan off the heat, stirred in two tablespoons of dark rum, and transferred the rhubarb to a bowl set in an ice bath to stop the cooking. Topped with List Entry #4, whipped, it made a gorgeous dessert. This would be closer to #1 if fresh rhubarb were available from my garden year round and if this recipe were not loaded with sugar, butter and cream.

#9 Carrots – I’ve been eating lots of carrots this year, in soups, salads, in fritters, cakes and muffins. Organic carrots, scrubbed and slow roasted with salt, pepper and olive oil complement most any meal. Any leftovers can be mashed with a bit of mayo and garlic and spread on toast for lunch or a rustic hors d’oeuvre.

Print Spring Tree

#8 Cappuccino – Alas, this is one thing on my list that I don’t make in my kitchen; but, the adventure of searching for a café and finding a perfect cappuccino with just the right amount of foamy milk on top merits a place on my list.

#7 Recipe Police – When I wrote about the absence of fish in my pot of chowder I boldly proclaimed that the recipe police would not come to my kitchen to give me a ticket. Little did I know that a Recipe Policeman, in the form of a phone call from an anonymous reader, would phone me and issue a warning that I had neglected to add thyme to the pot. I got away with a warning but I have been careful to add thyme to chowder since then.

#6 Pasta with Raisins and Pine Nuts – So simple, so quick, so delicious! While I waited for the pasta water to come to a boil, I sauteed one clove of garlic in a large frying pan with one tablespoon of unsalted butter and one tablespoon of olive oil. When the garlic had softened but not browned, I added a quarter of a cup of pine nuts. When the nuts where toasted, and the pasta was al dente, I drained the pasta, reserved a quarter of a cup of pasta water, added the pasta, generous handfuls of chopped flat leaf parsley and raisins, and a splash of the pasta water to the pan. I topped the pasta with the mere suggestion of ground cinnamon. Finito!

#5 Chickpea Flour – I discovered that I could make a crisp flatbread by baking in a 450º oven a batter of one cup of chickpea flour, one and a half cups of water and a teaspoon of salt in a cast iron skillet with three tablespoons of oil. Seasoned with salt and a bit of curry powder, an ho-hum soup and toast dinner was transformed into a praise-worthy meal.

Print Summer Tree

#4 Heavy Cream – My favorite comes from local dairies and is not ultra-pasteurized. I like it on oatmeal with brown sugar, whipped, with no sugar added, as frosting on deep, dark, moist chocolate cake, and as a cold topper for broiled apricots, (a treat I learned from my dear friend Didi).

#3 The Open Air Market in Ortigia, Sicily – Chatting with Angelo Cappucio about fish for dinner, choosing blood oranges, smelling the smoky roasted artichokes, sampling wild strawberries, olives, salami and chocolate from Modica is the best way to figure out “What’s for dinner?”

#2 Making Cheese in Sicily – Near the top of my list is the morning I spent in the cheese shop in Ortigia, making cheese with Andrea Borderi. I was welcomed into the small kitchen in the back of the shop, wrapped in an apron and put to work. I learned how to cut, ladle and knead curds as we made ricotta and mozzarella. I make a simple breakfast of a bowl of ricotta cheese, topped with a drizzle of Vermont honey and slices of orange when I’m wishing I were in Sicily.

Print Fall Tree

#1 Contact from Friends – I am cheered and delighted when I hear from friends, whether old or new, by email, telephone and even snail mail. It doesn’t matter if the message is lavish praise, a complaint, or a correction – you are there, reading what I write, cooking what I cook, improvising, improving recipes and sharing your discoveries. You bring me joy. Thank you and please stay in touch.

Concord Grapes Carol Egbert

She showed me how to use small clippers to harvest the bunches of fragrant, purple-black grapes. We sat on her back porch and watched birds feasting on grapes as we separated the ripe grapes from the stems, leaves and spider webs. Ruby always used the grapes we gathered to make enough grape jelly for a winter’s worth of peanut butter and jelly sandwiches.

My pantry is filled with jelly so I decided to use the grapes from the market to make a focaccia studded with grapes and pine nuts and seasoned with rosemary and olive oil. I wanted to try this classic Italian bread that is made in Tuscany during the wine grape harvest. Here’s how I made it:

Concord Grape Focaccia

I combined one package of active dry yeast with three-quarters of a cup of lukewarm water in a large bowl. I added two tablespoons of honey and stirred until the yeast and honey had dissolved. I set it aside for ten minutes, until the yeast had begun to grow and make the mixture foamy.

I added a quarter of a cup of olive oil, one and two-thirds cups of all-purpose flour, two-thirds of a cup of fine cornmeal and one and a half teaspoons of kosher salt to the yeast mixture, and stirred it with a wooden spoon to form a soft dough.

I turned the dough out onto a floured board and kneaded it until it was smooth and elastic. I added enough flour to the board, about a third of a cup, as I kneaded, to keep it from sticking to my fingers and the board but not so much flour as to make the dough dry.

I oiled a large bowl with a tablespoon of olive oil, put the dough into the bowl and rolled it around until it was coated with oil. I covered the bowl with a cloth napkin and put it on the counter near the oven that was preheating to 400º to rise.

It took me nearly an hour to rinse, halve and remove the seeds from two cups of concord grapes. When I had finished, the dough had doubled in bulk and it was time to assemble the focaccia. I oiled a twelve by seventeen inch baking sheet with olive oil. I gently deflated the dough, (I try never to punch anything in my kitchen), and put it onto the baking sheet sheet. I stretched it to form a disc that was half an inch thick. I used my finger tips to make dimples in the dough, scattered the prepared grapes, half a cup of pine nuts, one and a half teaspoons of minced fresh rosemary leaves, two tablespoons of sugar and half a teaspoon of flaky sea salt onto the dough. I drizzled the focaccia with two tablespoons of olive oil and put it into the oven.

In thirty minutes it was golden brown and dripping with juice the color of garnets. I served it with steamy carrot soup and a green salad. It was fun to pretend that we had spent the day working in a vineyard in Tuscany harvesting grapes.

Down load a recipe for Focaccia with an ingredients list here.

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The block of cream cheese and assorted jars of chutneys, jams and pickles in the fridge sparked my memory. I could make one of Leah’s “dump appetizers”. My friend Leah grew up in Atlanta and although she has a bookshelf full of Junior League cookbooks, she insists that “dump cooking” is the only way to cook. In less time than it took her to make a pitcher of sweet tea she gave me a list of ten “dump appetizers” that all started with a block of cream cheese and a jar of something sweet or savory.

Leah’s Dump Appetizer

Regardless of the topping, each appetizer begins the same way. Unwrap an eight ounce block of cream cheese and center it on the prettiest plate you have. Generously cover the cream cheese with a topping from the fridge or pantry. Here’s Leah’s list: hot pepper jelly, fig preserves, mango chutney, whole berry cranberry sauce, pesto, salsa, barbeque sauce, olive tapenade, cocktail sauce, or marinated artichoke hearts.

I had what I needed for the topping but nothing to serve it on. Rather than hopping in the car and driving to the market, I used semolina, flour, olive oil, salt, seeds and spices from the pantry to make a batch of crackers. Here’s how I did it:

Seedy Crackers

I used a whisk to combine one and a half cups of semolina flour, half a cup of whole wheat flour, one cup of unbleached white flour and one teaspoon of fine grain sea salt in the bowl of my stand mixer. I added one cup of warm water and one third of a cup of extra virgin olive oil and used the dough hook to knead the dough, at medium speed, for eight minutes. The dough was tacky, but not too sticky.

I shaped the dough into a log and cut it into twelve equal-sized pieces, formed each piece into a ball, dipped the balls of dough into a small bowl of olive oil and put them on a plate. I covered the dough balls with plastic wrap and let them rest for an hour while I did the same.

After my nap, I preheated the oven to 450º and put an empty, ungreased baking sheet into the oven. I put one piece of dough onto a silicon baking sheet and flattened it with a rolling pin. When it was quite thin, about an eighth of an inch thick, I topped the elongated rectangle of dough with a sprinkling of seeds or spice mixture and rolled the dough again to press the topping into the dough. I put the silicon baking sheet with the unbaked cracker on it, onto the baking sheet in the oven. After baking for eight minutes, the cracker was golden. I put the cracker on a rack to cool, and repeated the process with the remaining balls of dough. I varied the crackers by topping the dough with sesame seeds, poppy seeds, a mixture of toasted sesame seeds and sea salt called Gomasio or a spice mixture called Montreal Steak Seasoning.

I put the whole crackers in a large, flat basket and we broke the crackers and compared the flavors of the different toppings. I think the zing of the dried garlic and spices made the crackers topped with Montreal Steak Seasoning the favorite.

I almost forgot to tell you that I mixed together half a jar of mango chutney and half a jar of Vermont pear chutney from the Northeast Kingdom to top the block of cream cheese. The cracker recipe made enough to serve six and there was enough left for a snack on Monday. I used a rolling pin and a silicon baking sheet, the dough can also be shaped with a pasta machine and transferred to a baking sheet. The silicon baking sheet is non-stick and cools quickly between crackers. I use it when I’m baking cookies and roasting vegetables as well as for crackers. I didn’t cut the dough into individual crackers because I thought the oversized crackers would be fun. Dough for small crackers should be poked with a fork to prevent puffing. If you make the crackers more than a couple of hours before you plan to serve them, put them into an air tight container, after they have cooled completely, to preserve the crispy texture.

Homemade crackers rather than crackers dumped from a box to a bowl made dinner a bit more complicated but it was fun to have Leah there if only in the form of a variation of her “dump appetizer.”

Download and print seedy crackers recipe with an ingredients list here.

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Watercolor by Carol Egbert

I bought a deep violet eggplant,

Watercolor by Carol Egbert

a sweet pepper that was sap green on one side and cadmium orange on the other, white cippolini onions with forest green leaves, a bunch of celery with chartreuse leaves attached to leaf-green stems,

Watercolor by Carol Egbert

blue-black olives cured in oil, a scoop of grey-green salt cured capers, six Windsor yellow lemons and two kilos of blood oranges.

I created an ad hoc still life as I unpacked the market bags and thought about what I would cook. The caponata I had eaten in Taormina earlier in the week came to mind. Considered a Sicilian classic, caponata, like pasta, couscous, oranges and lemons, was brought by the Arabs when they conquered Sicily in 827 AD. The Arabs, then called Saracens, also introduced sophisticated methods of irrigation that made vegetable farming possible. Making caponata, a salad of cooked vegetables with a sweet and sour sauce, is an opportunity to combine colorful vegetables and Mediterranean history. Here’s how I did it:

Caponata

When I was choosing the eggplant at the market, a fellow shopper suggested that it was important to soak eggplant in salted water for at least half an hour before cooking it. I usually skip this step, but she insisted it that kept the eggplant white and prevented it from absorbing excess oil, so – when in Sicily, do as the Sicilians do. I cut the unpeeled eggplant into one-inch cubes, put them into a large bowl filled with water, added a tablespoon of sea salt, Sicilian of course, and left them to soak for half an hour. I rinsed two tablespoons of salt-cured capers in cold water and put them in a bowl of water to soak to eliminate the excess salt.

I put two tablespoons of olive oil in a frying pan and when it was hot, but not smoking, I added the drained eggplant cubes and cooked them over medium heat, stirring occasionally, until they were tender and browned on all sides. It took about fifteen minutes. I put the cooked eggplant into a colander, poured the olive oil that drained from it back into the frying pan, reheated it and added the sweet pepper that had been cut into one-inch pieces. After about ten minutes the pepper was cooked and had begun to brown and I added it to the eggplant in the colander.

I followed the same procedure to cook one thinly sliced onion and four thinly sliced stalks of celery, including the tender chartreuse leaves. I used a small glass to gently push the excess olive oil out of the vegetables into the frying pan, reheated it and added the rinsed and drained capers and a handful of olives to the oil. After they had cooked for three minutes, I added the capers and olives to the cooked vegetables and returned the frying pan to the heat to make the agro dolce or sweet and sour sauce.

I added a tablespoon of granulated sugar to the oil that was flavored with the caramelized juices of the vegetables and cooked it over medium heat, stirring constantly. When the sugar had melted, I stirred in two tablespoons of red wine vinegar and cooked the mixture until most of the vinegar had evaporated and the sauce had begun to thicken.

I added all of the cooked vegetables to the sauce and gently stirred them together over medium heat for three minutes to combine the flavors. I put the finished caponata into a bowl to cool.

To complete my Arab inspired cooking extravaganza, I made orange-lemonade by adding three tablespoons of sugar to the juice from two lemons and one blood orange to a pitcher of water.

Caponata is eaten at room temperature and served as an appetizer or as a side dish. It can also be heated and served with pasta or polenta and, if the ingredients are cut more finely before being cooked, it can be used as a spread for crostini. Caponata is a recipe that does not require exact amounts or ingredients. Its flavor improves with age and it will keep for a week in the fridge. Some recipes include chunks of tomatoes or tomato paste, green olives can be used instead of ripe ones and anchovies may be added with the capers and olives. The olive vendor, who also sells chocolate from Modica, suggested I could make the caponata “Baroque” by sprinkling it with unsweetened chocolate just before it is served. That sounded strange to me, what do you think?

Download and print caponata recipe with an ingredients list here.

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I was twelve when I bought my first artichoke. My mother worked in a large grocery store that had a much more exotic range of foods than the market we usually shopped in. I loved to wander the aisles in search of mystery foods. I discovered lobsters and artichokes at the same time. Two foods that left piles of debris on my plate that were larger than the initial servings. My mother was always willing to indulge my curiosity as long as I promised to eat, or at least taste, what I brought home. Armed with a huge cookbook, actually a binder filled with fifteen small booklets that I had purchased one at a time, I was always able to find appropriate recipes to use in my culinary explorations even before the existence of the Internet.

The name artichoke comes from the Arabic term Ardi-Shoki that means ground thorn. Globe artichokes are harvested as unopened flower buds and, other than the name, have nothing in common with Jerusalem artichokes, which are lumpy roots of some varieties of sunflowers. If allowed to flower, the violet-blue blossom, similar to a thistle, can measures up to seven inches in diameter.

I chose two of the greenest and heaviest artichokes with sharp thorns on the tips of tightly closed petals. Although there are varieties without thorns, I prefer the flavor and texture of the thorny ones. I trimmed the petal tips and stems before cooking. Here’s how I did it:

Artichokes

I pulled off and discarded the small outer petals at the base, used a serrated knife to cut off the top inch and a half, trimmed the thorny tip from each petal with kitchen scissors and finished by using a paring knife to cut off the bottom of the stem and remove its fibrous outer layer. I put the artichokes into a large pot, filled the pot with cold water, and added two whole unpeeled garlic cloves, two tablespoons of olive oil, and the juice from half a lemon. I covered the pot, brought the water to a boil, reduced the heat to medium and cooked the artichokes until the base and stem were tender when pierced with a knife. Cooking time varies. These were cooked in twenty-five minutes but depending on size, age and freshness, it may take as long as forty-five minutes. I used tongs to remove the artichokes from the pot and set them upside down on a platter to drain while I mixed up garlic flavored mayo to serve with them.

Garlic Mayo

I combined three tablespoons of mayonnaise, one tiny clove of garlic, finely minced, a teaspoon of fresh lemon juice, and a wee pinch of cayenne pepper. I used kitchen tongs to gently squeeze the excess water from the artichokes, put each one on a large dinner plate with half of the garlic mayo and sat down with Charles to look at the map of Sicily.

There are more ways to deconstruct and eat an artichoke than there are ways to eat an Oreo. I pull off one petal at a time, dip the bottom of it into mayo, put it in my mouth, dipped side down, and pull it through my teeth to remove the soft, delicious bit at the base of the petal, I put the ‘empty petal’ on my plate and continue on until I have reached the flat inner petals that cover the fuzzy heart or choke. I use a teaspoon to remove the inedible center and then cut the bottom and stem into pieces and dip them into the mayo, trying to finish the last of the mayo with the final bite of artichoke. On the other hand, my friend Andy completely disassembles an artichoke before dipping each leaf and then the base into garlic butter, and Jean doesn’t bother with the leaves at all, she pours salad dressing onto the base and eats it with a knife and fork.

Artichokes are fun to eat no matter how you do it, they are good for you and with only twenty-five calories they are a dieter’s delight — if you eat a modest amount of mayo.

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Pre-game activities begin after lunch, the game, liberally dotted with commercials, starts at six, is interrupted by the half-time show, then more of the game, and finally the wrap-up. It’s no wonder that most hotels offering Super Bowl packages have a four-day minimum stay – it must take at least two days to recover.

I’m not a football fan. My mind wanders with the interminable delays. I worry about mortal injuries to the referees and camera operators when I see enormous bodies, protected by even more enormous plastic helmets and shoulder pads flying through the air and landing in heaps. I’ve been told that the creative commercials that debut on Super Bowl Sunday are enough reason to watch but I’d rather be putting finishing touches on Super Bowls, Super Platters and Super Sweets to sustain Super Friends who are eating and drinking, cheering and booing in front of the television.

One Super Bowl party website suggested, “serve everyone’s favorite high fat, finger-licking snack foods. After all, your television set is the focal point, not the food.” (Those are fighting words to a cook.) Another site suggested serving “salami, pepperoni, cheese whiz, chips and dips, beer and hot sauce, zingers like salami & cheese stuffed pepperochini.” (I wonder if beer and hot sauce is new mixed drink?) Tailgate classics like Buffalo wings, chili, and layered dips are all possibilities, but I want Super Food, healthy food that is not fussy to prepare and has enough flavor to be a bit of a distraction from the game.

Chickpeas and chickpea flour, also called besan and gram flour, are on the Super Food team I’m inviting to be part of my Super Bowl menu. They taste good and are an excellent source of protein, fiber, iron, potassium and B vitamins. It takes only a minute to make the batter for Besan flatbread that can be served either hot from the oven or at room temperature. It meets my requirements for a super finger food.

Hummus, a party regular at my house, is also a Super Snack. This blend of ancient ingredients – chickpeas, sesame seeds, lemon juice, garlic and olive oil is readily available at the market but when made at home it is absolutely fresh, with a minimum number of ingredients and is preservative free. When combined with warm pita bread, it is a complete protein that will build muscles so necessary for passing and blocking on the gridiron. (Not bad for a non-sports writer!) Best of all, homemade hummus costs half as much and is at least twice as good as store bought. I took a bowl of hummus, surrounded with carrot sticks to a potluck lunch last Sunday and it disappeared before the chocolate chip cookies.

Here’s how I made Besan Flat Bread and Hummus:

Besan Flat Bread

I put one cup of besan and one teaspoon of salt into a bowl and stirred constantly with a whisk, as I slowly added water, about one and half cups, to make a slurry with the consistency of thin pancake batter. I made it in the morning, covered with a cloth and left on the counter to ‘rest’ for several hours. The batter can be baked immediately but the texture will be better and the bread will have a more complex flavor if the batter sits at room temperature for several hours before it is baked.

I set the oven at 450 degrees, peeled and thinly sliced two medium shallots and a handful of cauliflower florets. I put the shallots, cauliflower and three tablespoons of grape seed oil into a ten-inch cast iron skillet. After two minutes in the oven, I gave the vegetables a quick stir, poured the batter in and returned the skillet to the oven. In 30 minutes, the bread was brown and the crisp edge had pulled away from the pan. I used a spatula to lift it out onto a cutting board, sprinkled it with a pinch of sea salt, and let it cool for a couple of minutes before I cut it into twelve wedges. It disappeared in less time than it takes a football team to figure out the next play.

Onions, scallions or chives can be substituted for the shallots and olive or canola oil can replace the grape seed oil. I sometimes add either a tablespoon of fresh rosemary or a teaspoon of black mustard seeds or ground cumin along with the sliced vegetables to vary the flavor.

Hummus

I drained one 19-ounce can of chickpeas and reserved the liquid. I used a food processor to chop one small garlic clove and then added the chickpeas and two tablespoons of tahini. When the mixture was coarsely chopped, I added the juice of one lemon and slowly added the reserved liquid until the mixture was creamy, about five tablespoons. I put the hummus into a shallow bowl and topped it with a couple of tablespoons of extra virgin olive oil.

If you want to add color, a pinch of paprika is all you need. You could present the hummus in grand style by putting the warmed pita bread into the Super Bowl XLIV Snack Helmet that I saw on the internet for a mere $64.99.

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Besan Flat Bread List

• 1 c besan/chickpea flour
• 1 t salt
• 2 shallots
• 3/4 c cauliflower florets

Hummus List

• 1 19-ounce can chickpeas
• 1 small garlic clove
• 2 T tahini
• 1 lemon
• olive oil

We had been living in Singapore for two years, enjoying an incredible variety of Chinese, Indian, Malay and Indonesian food. Our first meal in Stockholm was gastronomic culture shock. There were endless varieties of meat, fish, cheese, vegetables, breads and berries artfully arranged on a breakfast buffet. I began by tasting a little bit of almost everything. When I tasted the thinly sliced, cured salmon I was expecting salty lox and was surprised by the fresh, slightly sweet, dill flavor and delighted by the sauce that accompanied it.

I went back to the buffet for a second helping and knew that I would order it at every meal until we left Stockholm. A friendly Swede at the buffet table explained that what I had fallen in love with was called gravlax. She explained that the word gravlax is a combination of two Scandinavian words – grav meaning grave and lax meaning salmon – and was in fact a description of how fishermen in the Middle Ages prepared salmon by salting it and burying it in the sand, above the high tide line, to ferment. Fortunately the salmon on the buffet had been cured with salt, sugar and fresh dill in a refrigerator rather than fermented in sand. It was a lovely shade of orange, thinly sliced, served with buttered brown bread and a sweet mustard, dill sauce called hovastarsas. Months later, after we had recovered from our trip half way around the world, I remembered my salmon binge in Stockholm and decided to try to make gravlax. It was a remarkably simple process and I make it frequently.

Salmon and trout are in the same family with the distinction that salmon migrate and trout don’t. Salmon come from both the Atlantic and Pacific and may be either wild or farmed. Varieties of salmon include: Chinook, Coho, pink, sockeye, steelhead and chum. Gravlax can be made with any variety of salmon, and I choose the variety based on guidance I get from Alex, the guy behind the fish counter at my market.

The last time I made it was for a dinner party to welcome our friend, Kay, back from her recent trip to Sweden. Following Alex’s recommendation, I chose a one-pound fillet of steel head.

I prepared it three days before the party so that it would have time to cure. Here’s how I did it:

Gravlax

I put the salmon, skin side down, over an inverted shallow bowl to make it easy to find any bones, and used a pair of kitchen tweezers to pull them out. I combined three tablespoons of granulated sugar, three tablespoons of kosher salt and two teaspoons of freshly ground black pepper for the dry marinade. I put the fillet, skin side down, on a large piece of plastic wrap, spooned a thick layer of the salt-sugar-pepper marinade onto the salmon flesh, topped it with a generous layer of fresh dill leaves and then wrapped the salmon, marinade and dill tightly in the plastic. I put it into the fridge in a shallow bowl to cure.

Just before dinner, while the tiny, new potatoes cooked, I made the sweet mustard sauce. Here’s how I did it:

Sweet Mustard Sauce

I used a whisk to combine two tablespoons of Dijon mustard with one teaspoon of honey, one tablespoon of white vinegar, three tablespoons of grape seed oil and a quarter of a teaspoon of salt. When the mixture was creamy, I stirred in three tablespoons of chopped, fresh dill.

To serve the gravlax, I discarded the dill leaves and gently scraped off any excess black pepper. I used a knife with a thin, sharp blade to slice the salmon as thinly as possible, at a 45-degree angle from the top of the fillet toward but not through the skin.

At dinner we shared memories of sunny days in Stockholm and stories of unexpected food discoveries, all unforgettable, whether they were as delightful as gravlax or as disastrous as sea cucumbers – but that’s a story for another day.

Soon after his return, he invited us to dinner. When we arrived, he was emptying the wood shavings from his pencil sharpener into the wok. We watched as he added the contents of two tea bags to the wood shavings. He explained that he was going to make tea smoked chicken for dinner. He put a bamboo steamer filled with raw chicken over the tea and wood shavings, covered everything with aluminum foil, put it on the stove and turned on the heat. The tea and wood smoldered and I worried about the yellow paint from the pencils, but Tom explained that it wasn’t a problem and that the smoke imparted a wonderful flavor to the chicken.

While we waited for the chicken to smoke, we enjoyed a cucumber salad that Tom had learned to make in China, and he described the all-duck banquet in Beijing that marked the end of his trip. He described, in detail, dishes made from duck innards, head, wings and webs. We neglected the wok and concentrated on the salad that was spicy, loaded with garlic, Szechuan peppers and peanuts. Unfortunately, the bamboo steamer that held the chicken above the smoke caught fire and so did the chicken. Our dinner was a bit meager, steamed rice and cucumber salad, but we laughed a lot and I went home with a great recipe for Szechuan Chinese pickles. We call it Tom’s Chinese Cucumber Salad and the recipe is my souvenir from his trip.

On a steamy evening a couple of weeks ago, I made Szechuan Cucumber salad and sesame noodles for dinner and we drank a toast in memory of our friend Tom and his love of exotic food. Here’s how I made it:

Tom’s Chinese Cucumber Salad

I combined two cups of unpeeled, seeded cucumber, cut into pieces half an inch wide and two inches long with two tablespoons of kosher salt. I waited an hour before I rinsed, drained and dried the cucumber pieces.

I toasted one tablespoon of Szechuan peppercorns in a dry skillet over medium heat until they were fragrant, about a minute, and ground them with a mortar and pestle. I combined them with one and a half a tablespoons of minced garlic, one tablespoon of hot bean paste, two teaspoons of sugar, one tablespoon of rice vinegar, one tablespoon of toasted sesame oil and half a teaspoon of chili paste in a medium serving bowl. I mixed the sauce with the cucumbers and put them in the refrigerator for half an hour. Just before serving, I topped the cucumbers with a generous handful of peanuts.

The exotic ingredients, Szechuan pepper, bean paste, toasted sesame oil and chili paste, are all available in the International Foods aisle of many grocery stores, in Asian grocery stores and online. A slightly less authentic, but still tasty salad, can be made without them.

Sesame noodles are best served at room temperature soon after the noodles and sauce have been combined. When I need to make this salad in advance, I prepare the pasta, sauce and asparagus and combine them just before serving.

Sesame Noodles with Grilled Asparagus

I cooked one pound of linguini in salted, boiling water until it was al dente and reserved a cup of the salty starchy pasta water when I drained pasta. I mixed the pasta with a tablespoon of oil and set it aside while I grilled the asparagus and made the sauce.

I cut off the bottom inch of the asparagus, and used a vegetable peeler to peel the bottom third of each stalk and brushed them with olive oil. It took five minutes, on a hot grill, for them to cook.

I put two cloves of garlic, one tablespoon red wine vinegar and one-tablespoon brown sugar into the work bowl of a small food processor. When the garlic was minced, I added a half-cup of chunky peanut butter and then processed the mixture for a minute before adding a quarter of a cup of soy sauce, six tablespoons of toasted sesame oil and three tablespoons of chili oil. When the sauce was well blended, I combined it with the noodles and stirred in four tablespoons of toasted sesame seeds. I used two tablespoons of the reserved pasta water to thin the sauce a bit and topped the noodles with one diced red pepper, half a cup of fresh cilantro, and one sliced cucumber. I arranged the grilled asparagus on top, sprinkled an additional tablespoon each of toasted sesame seeds and black sesame seeds on to the salad and dinner was ready.Note: There is a print link embedded within this post, please visit this post to print it.

It was important to eat the watermelon before sunset because we needed to be able to see who could spit seeds the farthest. Even the grown-ups enjoyed the contest and so, spitting, limited to seeds at picnics, was exempt from the general prohibition against spitting.

The distance-spitting competition usually deteriorated into a melee of targeting siblings, rivals and unsuspecting pets.

Late in the afternoon, on July third, my dad would bring home a block of ice. He used an awe inspiring ice pick to break up the ice for the food cooler, the drink cooler and the metal tub that held the watermelon. For many years, I ate watermelon plain, not even dusted with salt. Watermelon juice dripped off my chin and down my arms.  It was sweet, pink, crisp, cool organized water.

Watermelon is an inexpensive fruit that is loaded with Vitamins C and A and also a source of the anti-oxidant, lycopene. Historians believe that it originated in Africa, and today China is the world’s largest producer of watermelon.  When I was traveling in Shanghai in the summer of 1985, the garbage collectors were on strike and watermelon rinds were piled high in empty lots across the city. There are more than a thousand varieties of watermelon ranging from under a pound softball size to gigantic fruits that weigh more than two hundred pounds.  Watermelon flesh may be red, orange, yellow or white.

I still love watermelon even though it rarely has the necessary ammunition for a distance competition or even target practice. I have progressed from serving plain chunks of watermelon to serving it sliced and dusted with smoky herbs, and have used it in salads, salsas, and drinks.  A sprinkle of seasoning and a squeeze of citrus made slices of watermelon sing.  Here’s how I made Spicy Watermelon Slices, Watermelon Salsa and Watermelon Coolers:

Spicy Watermelon Slices

I trimmed all of the green and most of the white rind from a wedge of watermelon before I cut it into quarter inch slices. I sprinkled a combination of one teaspoon of chili powder and a quarter of a teaspoon of kosher salt onto the watermelon that was arranged in one layer on a platter.  A generous squeeze of fresh lime juice on top added a finishing zing.

On a warm evening last week, I served colorful watermelon salsa made with both red and yellow watermelon as a cool side dish with grilled chicken. Here’s how I made it:

Watermelon Salsa

I cut two cups of watermelon into half inch dice and combined it with two tablespoons of thinly sliced scallions, one finely diced jalapeno pepper without its seeds, a handful of cilantro leaves, a quarter of a teaspoon of kosher salt, a tablespoon of red wine vinegar and a tablespoon of vegetable oil. This salsa is easy to put together and best eaten the day it is made. When I have a red onion in the pantry, I use it instead of the scallions.

Cooling lemonade with frozen watermelon cubes gives pink lemonade a new look without diluting the flavor. Here’s how:

Watermelon Cooler

I put a single layer of watermelon chunks on a foil lined cookie sheet and froze them.  I used the watermelon cubes instead of ice cubes to chill my favorite lemonade. I have also used watermelon cubes to chill fruit punch and seltzer water. I store frozen watermelon cubes in a plastic freezer bag and like to add one to a glass of orange juice at breakfast.

Watermelon has been cultivated since the second century BC and is eaten in many countries around the world. Although watermelon is not depicted in Egyptian hieroglyphics, many watermelon seeds were recovered from the tomb of Pharaoh Tutankhamen. I wonder if he got to be pharaoh because he could spit seeds further than anyone else.Note: There is a print link embedded within this post, please visit this post to print it.