At dinner, Charles told me about picking fruit in Wenatchee when he was a boy. He ended with the pronouncement, “Although most people don’t know it – nectarines are peaches.”

As the resident food expert, I said, “No. Nectarines are a crossbreed of peaches and plums.” He was confident and I was confident. It was time to Google. We logged on and there it was “… nectarines belong to the same species as peaches but have a recessive gene that gives them a smooth rather than fuzzy skin”. Who knew? Charles knew.

I had another conversation at the polls with Andrew, a new friend, who said that peaches were at their best simply peeled and mixed with Gran Marnier. That inspired me to make a creamy, uncooked pie topped with peaches when friends came to dinner on Friday. Here’s how I did it: … read more

My Nana could grow flowers anywhere; she was a skilled seamstress and a modest carpenter. Her hands were never idle.

Nana gave me my first tools – a hammer, a saw, screwdrivers and a hand-crank drill. I drilled and hammered beside her at the workbench. Although she was an enthusiastic cook, she was not a good cook. For Nana, speed and efficiency in the kitchen were most important. Her version of a pancake dinner was literally ‘a pan cake’ – a twelve-inch disc, an inch thick that was cut in quarters to serve four. The pancake was always served with a salad and the salad was always the same, the only salad she ever made, a wedge of iceberg lettuce with a puddle of bright orange French dressing poured from a bottle.

I am like my Nana in many ways. I can fix almost anything. I still have my own toolbox and my hands are rarely idle, but for me, neither speed nor efficiency in the kitchen are nearly as important as flavor and beauty. Color is important but rather than resorting to bright orange, bottled salad dressing, I use fruit to add a splash of color to a salad. In the past few weeks I have been making savory salads that combine fruits and vegetables.

I love the combination of blue and yellow whether I am setting a table, painting a still life, decorating a room or making a salad. When a friend told me about a salad she had made that combined corn and blueberries I knew I had to try it. Here’s how I made it: … read more

We couldn’t ignore Ken’s special announcement in the Order of Service at church on Sunday. It said “Raspberry Emergency – Help!”

The announcement went on to say that Ken had many more raspberries than he could possibly pick. Although I wasn’t dressed for raspberry picking, I was willing to help. Charles and I followed the directions, drove up a bumpy, country road, dappled with sunlight and found Ken’s house.

The enormous, overgrown, raspberry patch was behind an equally large vegetable garden. Raspberries, the fruit of perennial plants whose name comes from a European variety called Rufus ideaus, (which translates as “with red fruit”), need lots of sun and water. From the look of his raspberry patch, this hot, Vermont summer has been perfect for the berries. When Ken planted the raspberry canes 20 years ago, he was told that he had planted them too close together and that they would die. The canes are more than five feet tall and loaded with berries that are as big as the tip of my thumb.

We shouted, “Hello!” to our fellow, emergency raspberry helpers, found a shady, bug-free place to pick and got started. In almost no time, my small basket was filled and I transferred the berries into a large flat box so that the berries on the bottom of the pile wouldn’t get squashed. After half an hour, we had eaten our fill and harvested about eight cups of berries.

I froze all of the berries, except for what we planned to eat that evening. I lined two rectangular cake pans with aluminum foil and filled them with a single layer of raspberries. After half an hour in the freezer, the berries were frozen enough to be transferred to a resealable plastic bag. It took two batches to freeze all of the berries. Freezing the berries before packing them in plastic bags makes it easy to use a few berries at a time.

Raspberries, high in vitamin C and a good source of natural fiber and antioxidants, come in many colors: red, black, purple and gold. They are expensive to buy because they are soft, bruise easily, spoil quickly and don’t ship well. It’s much better and more fun to pick your own.

Having ruby red, homemade, raspberry jam waiting patiently on a shelf in my pantry is like having summer sunshine in a jar. Here’s how I made it: … read more

It’s been nearly thirteen years since that church supper that inspired all this pickle making.

I’m not quite so naïve but I still marvel at the beauty of Jersey cows’ eyelashes, I’m a member of that church and I design the poster for Red Flannel Hash Supper each year.

I decided to use apples is this recipe that is the last, for the moment, in my refrigerator pickle series. In all of the refrigerator pickle recipes, measurements are arbitrary; the amount of sugar and spice can be varied.  When I don’t have enough liquid to cover the fruit or vegetable, I use vinegar to top off the jar. These pickles will keep in the fridge for at least two months. These pickles are nice with a sandwich or served with grilled chicken. Here’s how I made them: … read more

In my childhood, wedges of ice-cold, pink watermelon, dotted with shiny, black seeds were the before-dark, Fourth of July Picnic dessert. When the fireflies appeared and the bonfire was glowing, we moved on to sticky, hot, sometimes burned, toasted marshmallows.

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: … read more