Summer

With no attempts to revise biblical history, I have concluded that some religious scholars may have erred. I simply do not believe that the fruit hanging from the Tree of Knowledge in the Garden of Eden could have ever been an apple. In my humble opinion there is only one fruit that had the potential to misdirect Eve into morally unsound behavior.

It had to be an heirloom tomato.

Alright, it’s not as romantic and symbolic as the ubiquitous apple and what I’ve written may be considered blasphemy, but when you take that bite of your season’s first heirloom tomato you quickly understand how some things on this planet can just be absolutely perfect as they are and make you want to do bad, bad things just to get another bite.

It might just make you want to write a letter to the editor of the Good Book. Wait, um, on second thought, scratch that.

Heirloom tomatoes have gained popularity in the past decade or so, and that puts one of the biggest smiles on my face. If you’ve never tasted an heirloom (let alone never seen one), you might react by shock and horror and then pure idiotic delight. Simply put, heirlooms are very very old tomatoes, grown from plants and seeds that have been handed down from generation to generation. Because of their lineage, there’s usually a story behind each specific variety.

I was walking through my local farmer’s market today and saw a new vendor called the Maine Connection Seafood Company.

The prize on their table was fresh Maine lobster – flown to LA the same day that it is caught from the family run fishing business.

Of course, you can buy a whole lobster and cook it yourself, but this is so convenient and incredibly fresh.

Lobster rolls in Maine are almost always made with a top split hot dog bun, but they’re nearly impossible to find in California.

I went to the Farmers’ Market on Saturday and I believe I snapped. I bought so many berries, the berry guy can send his daughter to college on his profits.

I bought so many berries I got a flat tire on the way home. I bought so many berries I really have no option but to make several desserts and possibly some jam.

Luckily this recipe uses a lot of berries and is quite delicious. I made it on Saturday, then blueberry muffins on Sunday and I have a waiting list of berry recipes for this week. (I’ll keep you posted.)

My apron looks like a Jackson Pollock paining, his blue/red period.

For the last couple of weeks, I have been unusually happy. It's not the weather or exercise or Prozac. It's cherries. Here's the deal with cherries: their season is ridiculously short, their price is ridiculously high, but the flavor is ridiculously delicious. Who can deny the pure pleasure of eating a sweet-tart, fresh, juicy cherry? It is prime cherry pickin' time. So here's what you need to know about selecting, storing, and cooking with cherries.

When is cherry season?
Most cherries are in season from late May through late July. The season is short: typically 4-5 weeks, peaking at about week 3.

Why are cherries so expensive?
For good reasons: Cherries are highly dependent upon good weather; they're also highly susceptible to insect damage and disease and often require protection from netting or cheesecloth, which is time consuming for farm workers. Finally, they must be picked carefully and are highly perishable since they do not ripen once harvested. This all adds up to a labor intensive and expensive fruit to produce, which is why the price is high. Don't wait for a big sale on cherries; it might not come. If you love them – and you know you do – then just splurge.