Summer

I like food in miniature. I like dim sum, mezze, tapas and appetizers of all sorts. Working on the latest recipe development project has been an exploration of many things in miniature. One recipe that sadly will not work for my client was a terrific success when it came to ease and taste. It does not work particularly well for vacuum sealing but that's ok. It means I can share it with you here and now.

Rhubarb makes one of my favorite pies and now, my favorite galette, which is pretty much a pie for lazy people. Rhubarb requires some tender loving care to coax out the perfect balance of sweetness and especially texture. While mushy rhubarb isn't terrible, firm, sweet yet tangy rhubarb is fabulous! I like the method of macerating it with sugar. The trick to this recipe is to not let the rhubarb macerate too long. I think you could make it with just rhubarb but a little bit of strawberry really complements it. I also don't cook the filling! You don't need to, it cooks perfectly in miniature.

I'm no genius when it comes to pie crust. I wish I was but it's just not in the cards for me. I have ridiculously hot hands and I don't work with pie crust often enough to get really fast at making it. I do my best, but sometimes resort to premade pastry. I'm ok with that. If you have a favorite pie crust recipe that works for you, by all means, use it.

It's rhubarb season. Or is it?

When I was a kid, rhubarb season was usually a couple of months long. You didn't have to buy it at the market because half of your neighbors grew it in their yards. I remember going to my great aunt's house where those crimson stalks stood at attention along the side of her house. I'd rip one right of the ground and bite into it like it was a carrot. I'd do it till my eyes watered, my lips went numb, and my belly turned sour. Ah, those were good days.

Nowadays, I have to rush to get my rhubarb fix. And rhubarb should not be rushed.

Since my belly isn't as steely as it used to be, I forego raw rhubarb for stewed, sweetened dishes like crumbles, crisps, and compotes. I have made many rhubarb compotes, but this one is special. The rhubarb is tempered by sugar and enhanced by freshly squeezed orange juice, aromatic ginger, and sweet blueberries.

Growing up, eating the perfect chopped salad could only be found at La Scala in Beverly Hills.  I would crave this salad and when I worked as a talent manager in the 80′s, one could find me at lunch time, sitting in one of their big red leather booths, at least once a week.  Other than The Palm, The Grill, Hugos (for breakfast), La Scala was my drug of choice!

It truly is one of the simpliest salads; finely chopped iceberg lettuce, thinly sliced julienne salami, thinly sliced provolone cheese, garbonzos, and one kalamata olive.  If you choose, you could add in sliced turkey, grilled chicken, tomatoes, or basil.  Dressing on the side of course (perfect for dipping their freshly baked bread).  Their salad dressing is distinct, like no other.

When a friend of mine visited from New York, I took her there for that salad.  She put me on a mission to recreate the dressing.  I tried and tried.

I’m not a big raw bell pepper fan, but the smoky sweetness of a roasted pepper always appeals to me.

Over the years I’ve roasted peppers many different ways—under the broiler, mostly, and sometimes over a gas flame or charcoal grill. But my favorite way is roasting in a covered gas grill. Not only is this method simple and hands-off, but it also yields a roasted pepper that’s easier to peel, because the skin really blisters and pops off, rather than getting too cooked and sticking to the pepper.

The convected heat in a hot gas grill quickly surrounds the pepper on all sides and blackens it in less than 10 minutes. (A couple of flips with the tongs helps.) I take the peppers out when they’re mostly, but not completely, blackened so that they don’t overcook.