March is one of
the busy months of the year, with spring arriving, St. Pat’s being grogged,
daylight saving springing forward, and thoughts of summer time pleasures just
around that next bend. There are many things that make the arrival of spring
more than just pleasant, and one that gets me going is thinking about spring
and summer foods.
I grew up in a
small town, Santa Cruz, CA, it’s on the north end of Monterey Bay, and back in
the 30s and 40s there were three driving industries: Agriculture, Commercial
and Sport Fishing, and Tourism. With the exception of tourism, Santa Cruz today
is not the community I grew up in.
The agriculture
and fishing were dominated by a strong Italian community, flavored with Mexican
farm laborers, and despite the fact our family is primarily Irish, the
influence of Italian and Mexican food held sway over our table. My mother was
an excellent cook, and my grandmother was an excellent people person. She said
to me one time, “Oh, Grandson of mine, I see some possible personality flaws
that suggest you just might spend many years alone. Learn to cook, it will save
your life.” Grand words from a grand lady, and possibly a seer of the future.
Here’s one for
you a little down the line. Take a French roll or a hamburger bun, split, and
slap some garlic aioli on one side, lay one or two thick cut fresh tomato
slices on, layer several basil leaves and cover with crumbled goat cheese.
Slather some horseradish on the other bun, pour some nicely chilled white wine,
and contemplate the meaning of the universe as you enjoy this repast.
Spring and
summer dining, whether at the beach, in a camp deep in the forest, or in a
backyard full of screaming neighborhood kids, simply can’t be beat. Mom, dad,
and us three kids would go to Twin Lakes beach, half a block from where we
lived, dad and us kids would gather drift wood for the fire, mom would make
salad and cut long loaves of French bread, lengthwise.
Dad would dig a
hole in the sand, fill it with drift wood and light the fire. We’d put a large
cast iron kettle about one third filled with seawater, put one small length of
sea weed in the pot, and all of us would take our shovels and go dig clams,
bringing them to the pot. Mom would put a half-gallon jug of white wine in the
pot just before the clams were ready.
Fill your bowl
with clams and that wonderful broth, rip off great chunks of French bread,
maybe look at the salad, and have a magnificent summer evening, watching the
sun settle into the blue Pacific. God I miss those days. They can never be
brought back, but with slight alteration, the food can come close. Steamed
clams over an open fire, or BBQ them on a grill, and make a good dipping sauce
or broth, close your eyes, and listen for the sound of the surf breaking on the
beach.
Patty and I
spend hours at our picnic table all spring, summer, and fall, the table spread
with lunches or snacks or dinners. I’ve actually worn out, burned it through, a
Weber grill. But it’s always the spring and summer meals and snacks that stand
out. My daughter Trish makes and exceptional bleu cheese dressing, and smeared
over a piping hot rib steak will make you want to dance and sing. Add that
glass of deep burgundy, and you will.
Throw me some of
your favorite ideas for spring and summer dining and I’ll make them a part of
an upcoming blog. Until next time, read good books and stay regular.
Will you join me on facebook from time to time?
Or Tweet with me, darlin’?
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