Summer

A friend of mine from NYC called the other day to ask which pie bakery I preferred. He had guests from Norway stopping by that afternoon for coffee and wanted to offer them a slice of “American pie”.

When he told me a whole pie from a bakeshop would cost anywhere from $35-$65, I suggested he take a quick lesson in pie making and bake one himself. He had 3 hours before they arrived and I was convinced I could help him get a pie, prepped, baked, and on a cooling rack before they rang his buzzer.

I quickly emailed this recipe for Best Ever Blueberry pie and he raced to his local grocery store to pick up everything we needed, (including a pie plate). With the help of Skype, I coached him through the basic steps (he saved time with a ready-made pie crust) and the pie was in the oven in no time.

There's nothing better than the smell of a freshly baked pie and this one is certain to please any guest.

I woke up the other morning craving roasted red pepper soup. Not for breakfast -- that would be weird – but for dinner.

Since I had recently purchased a dozen bright and shiny red bell peppers, I thought it would be a good idea to roast them first thing in the morning. So by 6:15 am, the peppers were sliced, drizzled with oil, and placed under the broiler.

Like wood-fired pizzas or chargrilled burgers, the smell of roasting peppers is utterly enticing. Except when it's not.

You see, that utterly enticing aroma becomes not-so-enticing by three o'clock in the afternoon. You can light vanilla scented candles (which I did) and spray air freshener (which I did). It won't matter. The smell will linger like an unwanted house guest.

So here's my advice: Make roasted peppers only after 12 noon. And then make this soup because it's too delicious to pass up.

This is a great summer pasta recipe and perfect for a Labor Day Cookout. It makes good use of leftover chicken, or use an already cooked rotisserie chicken from the store.) It has all the flavors of summer, with a southwestern flair – cilantro, red peppers, corn, black beans – and it’s quick to make.

It keeps nicely in the refrigerator for up to 2 days, just reserve a little of the dressing (which is the real secret to this dish) to perk up the pasta just before serving.

In case you’re wondering who Mateo is, that’s me. That’s my name in Spanish, a title only used at home by my grandparents and when I did something terribly wrong as a child.

I’m sure you can hear it now: “MATEOOOOOOOOOO!”  For some reason it has more zing that just “oh Matt, quit falling out of 2 story windows and take off your sister’s dresses while you’re at it!”

With that out of the way I can proceed to this snappy little dressing and dip I have been calling Diosa Verde. Diosa Verde is nothing more than a literal translation of “Green Goddess”, that tangy creamy dip of yesterday that has been back in vogue for the past few years. But this isn’t just a literally translation of the recipe, no sirreee, but Green Goddess with a Mexican twist.