summer’s saturation point
there comes a moment, maybe it’s late afternoon when the whir of the cicada rises to jackhammer loud, maybe it’s standing by the bins of tomatoes at the farmer’s market cradling just the right red orb in your palm, maybe it’s sinking your toes in the sand as it cools by the minute at nightfall, but sure as can be, there comes a moment when you know — up, down, and sideways — that you’re in the thick of surround-sound super-saturated summer.
and this is the moment to make the most of it, seize it, lick the juice of it off your chin, bury your toes a little bit deeper, turn the page and keep right on reading: dinner can wait.
this is summer. summer is this.
especially the summer when every ounce of you is counting down. when you wake up knowing how many days there are. how many weeks till you pack up the wagon, and whisper the holy-garden-angel prayer*. (* the prayer that was born when little ears in the back seat behind you were certain the one to whom you were reciting allegiance, the one to whom you petitioned, was none other than “holy garden angel, protect us.”)
especially in august.
so here we are: time for your summer’s checklist.
have you sliced a perfectly ripe, perfectly juicy giant green-striped tomato? a caution-yellow one? one with a fanciful name (cherokee purple, green zebra, Mr. Stripey, montserrat?) and even more fanciful pings to your tastebuds?
have you unfurled a beach towel in your own backyard, flung yourself onto your back, and counted the stars?
have you plucked the sand from in between your toes?
have you lost an afternoon deep in the pages of a hot-burning summer’s read?
have you carried home so many bulging bags from the farmer’s market that the welts in your arm lasted till noon?
have you wished even once that this day — or this hour, or moment — would never ever come to an end?
have you fallen asleep to the nightsounds rushing in through the screens? along with the breeze that tickles your toes?
have you plunked yourself in your favorite perch — maybe a tree house, maybe a cushioned ledge by an upstairs window — and done nothing more arduous than watching the world go by?
have you grabbed a fistful of mint from the garden, rinsed it under the faucet and watched it float in a pitcher of ice, water, and sliced wheels of lemon?
have you stayed up late, and gotten up early, just because you can’t get enough of these summery hours?
have you whispered a prayer of undiluted glory-be for this moment, the blessing of being alive for one more summer?
maybe now is the time….
and here, just because, is the summeriest recipe i’ve stumbled upon in the last string of summery days….(p.s. it’s the dressing that launches this over the moon…..the summery moon, but of course…)
Arugula, Watermelon and Feta Salad
Yield: 4 servings
1/4 cup freshly squeezed orange juice
1/4 cup freshly squeezed lemon juice (2 lemons)
1/4 cup minced shallots (1 large)
1 tablespoon honey
1/2 cup good olive oil
1 teaspoon kosher salt
1/2 teaspoon freshly ground black pepper
6 cups baby arugula, washed and spun dry
1/8th seedless watermelon, rind removed, and cut in 1-inch cubes
12 ounces good feta cheese, 1/2-inch diced
1 cup (4 ounces) whole fresh mint leaves, julienned
1 Whisk together the orange juice, lemon juice, shallots, honey, salt, and pepper. Slowly pour in the olive oil, whisking constantly, to form an emulsion. If not using within an hour, store the vinaigrette covered in the refrigerator.
2 Place the arugula, watermelon, feta, and mint in a large bowl. Drizzle with enough vinaigrette to coat the greens lightly and toss well. Taste for seasonings and serve immediately.
what’s on your summer’s checklist?
What’s on my summer checklist? Seeing you, of course!! 😘
bless your sweet heart! how bout soon as i’m home from gambier…..
You’ve given me a bucket list of must-dos and must-feels before summer end. I did a version of your salad for some years — watermelon-feta-mint and it was delish at that. Can’t wait to raise the bar. Anyone in Chicago, I’ll add a summer thing: Go find Viktor Mejia’s pop up stand sat Morse and Clark. Picking fruit since he was 12, he comes north from Mexico each summer from about May to October. His fruit creations are healthy and so delicious and being on his corner feels like best of Chicago or another country. And he’s just so nice.
well, what a motherlode to find a slew of wordlvr morsels here at the table this fine august morning! i am salivating for Viktor’s, and of course it’s his story that draws me……i think i can picture his cart. i love the ways you know this fine city, and some of its finest inhabitants. xoxoxo