As promised, here’s part two of this year’s Asparagus Season Finale, a follow-up for last week’s Asparagus Risotto. We had both of these dishes a couple of weeks back, conveniently and absolutely unintentionally timed for Saturday and Sunday dinners on that one “Cats and dogs are falling out of the sky with their claws out” weekend of the season – the absolute perfect weekend to spend an extended period of time in the kitchen, white wine in hand, noses and spoons in the pots… a smashing way to celebrate the veggie stars of the season while they were getting exactly what they needed as well, a serious dose of rain~!
You guys probably know how much I love asparagus by now, so you might be able to imagine the delicious – and extremely healthy, I might add – blast I’m having these days, running back and forth between my trusty pots and pans and the farmers market and all but rolling around in fresh asparagus and strawberries.
Oh yes, Summer’s here! Temperatures are slowly but steadily rising to a level where – if you want to survive the stuffy city nights – you have to find somewhere else to be during the day – and don’t even think about looking at your stove too closely, it might get funny ideas… – in order to keep the apartment cool…’ish. Of course, that raises the question of minimal-prep, healthy, filling and refreshing to-go’able meals that don’t turn into a pile of ick once exposed to a bit of sun.
Time to celebrate… good times, glorious times, delicious times for everybody with a sweet tooth for mother nature’s gem collection! Bushes, shrubs and other assorted types of greenery are bursting with berries this time of the year, just waiting to be picked, devoured and turned into yumtastic things – after the cook has taken his or her fill of the raw bounty, of course~
The city Hubby and I call home has always been the go-to place in the region to indulge in healthy helping of the real, authentic, non-europeanized food from whatever country you could possibly think of. From a serious Argentinian Asado to a Zambian deep-fried Kudu surprise, you name it, you’ll most likely get it – as long as you don’t expect it to be adjusted to please a central-european palate.
Now that the hot days of the year are edging closer, the many artisan ice cream maker’s shops that have been making a name for themselves around town during the last couple of delicious summers are opening up for the season one by one. While some of these Heroes of Summer have come up with specialities and signature yummies that you’d wish you could live on, all of their shops and cafés have one huge flaw: they’re shops. Tiny ones, most of the time, in remote’ish places, with exponentially growing lines in front as soon as the first ray of sun comes out.
Sometimes, recipes aren’t about using specific ingredients in a specific way to create something new entirely – sometimes they’re all about highlighting that one spectacular item you brought home, make that one thing, possibly a rather humble one, the shining star of your dinner table. One of the things I absolutely love building a dish around is, as you may have noticed already, cheese in all shapes and sizes.
In the aftermath of last weekends heat blast, I’ve noticed some of my circuits and tastebuds having obviously taken a more thorough scramble than I first thought. For example, even though the temperatures have dropped to reasonable levels, at least as far as end-of-April goes with close-to-zero-degrees night breezes, I can’t get myself to close the windows at night. Most of the members of my – admittedly small, but cherished – shoe collection have sort of a… sinister? Confining! look to them after just one weekend of flipflop-freedom for my feet.
Eeesh… remember my little rant about Mother Nature not having gotten the Spring-Time Memo yet just two weeks back? Well, you know what they say about the hazards of poking sleeping dragons and other elemental forces… It seems, someone speared that memo with a cattle prod and popped the metaphorical Nature Dragon a good one with it.
As I’ve mentioned before, I roast my way through vast amounts of seeds, nuts and oats every once in a while – both to replenish my quick-grab stock of salad-toppings and guilty-pleasure snacks and to refill hubby’s ginormic jar of breakfast granola. Usually I do this on one of those days, when little to no motivation and drive to do anything whatsoever coincide with the type of weather that makes you all but expect a loud blast of fanfares announcing the end of all days to any minute now.