To start the final newsletter of summer ‘25, a little album of the produce that is the guiding light behind everything else in this newsletter. From hunky summer salads and buttered tomatoes, to all the recipes from the archives that I’ve been loving. More on all of that below.
Some tomatoes from vendors at the USQ Greenmarket, where you can find me at 8am, just about every week, still in my running clothes, gathering up all the delicious varietals for the salads below.
On our way home from a wedding in Long Island, I stopped at the Farmstand at Sylvester Manor and picked up some gorgeous greens, butter lettuce, and corn. This time, wearing far nicer clothes, the Conrad T-Shirt, Le Crop Jeans, Agathe Low Ballerinas, and the Justine Basket Bag (my most worn bag of the summer), all from Sézane.
Some signs of summer, aka literal produce signs (+ a giant lobster). It’s hard to pick a favorite, although “TOMA-TOES” has started looping in my head as I fall asleep each night.
Some produce hauls. One is from the time I went straight from JFK to the Greenmarket after visiting the in-laws in France (more on that below). All I had to carry was my Sézane Justine Basket Bag (which held my laptop and liquid toiletries on the trip, but also fits juicy and flavorsome melon, and ears of corn–as long as you don’t drop it) and a box for the luscious tomatoes I picked up. The other haul is from Long Island, where the tote came to the rescue again.
Hunky substantial summer salads
This time of year, I am focused on trying to soak up every last bit of summer, which includes eating all the veg, and eating it in large quantities.
This year, to squeeze in all the veg, I ate big, hunky summer salads. ‘Hunky’ maybe in the sense that they were sexy, but I more so mean hunky in the vegetable preparation. Big hunks = really enjoying the full flavor and texture of each perfectly unique piece of produce. I wanted to savor the magic of the summer sun, the farmers, and the terroir in its simplicity: the big slices of tomato with a meaty texture and sweet-acidic punch, creamy-dense new potatoes with sweet-earthy notes, and corn kernels that taste like heaven, aka sweet-creamy-grass.
With that being said, there are rules to the hunky salad, and I learned them the hard way. The first rule is to dress everything properly and allow some time for it to soak in. Case in point: this semi-circle watermelon salad with cherry tomatoes and a battoned panzanella salad.
While the ingredients certainly did sing in both of these salads–what on this earth is better than tomatoes from Sycamore and Eckerton Hill farms and melon from Halal Pastures?–they were missing a certain cohesion. I wanted to leave the produce as is, but this ended up being the taste-equivalent of a song where each musician gets a lot of solos. Yes, it can be amazing to see one person's unbelievable talent, but isn’t the best part the chorus when everyone is making something beautiful together?
The watermelon salad needed the extra squeaky, briny, umami, lemon-zest coated feta on the watermelon, cherry tomatoes, and fennel-marinated olives–not next to it. And similarly, the panzanella needed that saucy-tomato-y-balsamic-y water that puddles at the bottom of the bowl and soaks the toasted and garlic-rubbed sourdough bread (not just as a glaze on the tomatoes). Lesson learned!
Onto lesson number two: hunky dressed salads are excellent, but be sure to prep the components to the right size. Case in point: niçoise salades.
I made a niçoise salad recently and loosely followed this recipe. I started by steaming the potatoes over boiling water and making a dressing for them of chopped capers, pickled mustard seeds, olive oil, salt, and pepper. I quartered the potatoes and dressed them, let them cool, and added chopped chives, tarragon, and bush basil sprigs. I then boiled and shocked my green beans and my eggs (6 ½ minutes = jammy perfection). I blended the Dijon mustard, lemon zest and juice, shallots, garlic, and some more olive oil until creamy. And then sliced: cutting the eggs into 1/4ths, halving and pitting the olives, wedging the tomatoes, breaking up the tuna, slicing the anchovies, and cutting the lettuce into 1/8ths.
Wearing the Dogan Shorts and (the very comfortable and chic) Eloy Jumper.
I plated each item semi-separately so that Théo and I could take the bits we preferred. I like to lay the lettuce down first and then spoon each component on top into its own little section so everything is nested into each other. I was proud, and it was delicious–a truly hunky salad.
With that being said, maybe it was just a bit too hunky (see big bite). Everything probably should have been halved once more so that each item was a bit more evenly dressed, and I could get more items on the fork without having to use my knife. Other than that, no notes.
A few days later, on the evening we returned from a wedding in Long Island, we made a lobster cobb. Having learned my lessons from the salads before, I focused on cutting the components up a tad smaller.
The gorgeous butter lettuce I picked up that morning lined the bottom of the plate, holding the creamy dressing (no blue cheese in this one, just lemon, tarragon, chives, mustard, champagne vinegar, garlic, and olive oil). On top: jammy eggs, deep-red and juicy-sweet heirlooms, thick-cut smoky bacon, a perfect avocado, steamed lobster, and steamed corn (cook it in the husk for 3 ½ minutes in the microwave–I promise it’s phenomenal). I plated it up like the photo above from an old magazine, allowing everyone to create their hunky dinner salad to their preference.
My favorite salad of the bunch was probably this roasted cabbage wedge. It takes the place of iceberg lettuce here, being far more delicious and hunky (and more nutritious!). I roasted the cabbage in the leftover bacon fat from the bacon crumbles that go on top. It has a sweet-nutty flavor that pairs so well with the rich, tangy blue cheese and chive dressing. Tomatoes are key here, too. Please do try this play on a classic wedge salad.
Provençal tomatoes
Every summer (and sometimes in the winter), my husband and I go to France to see his family and have a lovely vacation. While I have visited most of his family across different regions of France, I had yet to go to his father’s home in Provence. I had heard a lot about his childhood there: long walks in the forest, and the produce…
Théo’s running joke is to say ‘not as good as a Provençal tomato (or melon, etc.)’ when we try produce from the Greenmarket. So, this summer, it was finally time for me to try the fruits of Provence. (I had the opportunity to be there while leading seminars at SCAD Lacoste, which was so lovely!)
While my tomato salads at home are simply sliced tomatoes brushed with a tiny bit of vinegar and honey or a very good quality balsamic to bring out that sweet-tart flavor, this was slightly more involved. The tomatoes are cut into large, hunky wedges and placed in individual wide bowls. They are then sprinkled with a light balsamic, salt, and mortar and pestle-crushed pepper. Chopped garlic and chiffonaded basil get piled in the center of each person's salad.
We sat under the umbrella in the garden and sopped up the remaining tomato juices with a baguette, though they usually use rice. For dessert, Théo’s father brought out a fridge-cold cantaloupe. Large spoonfuls had been piled into a bowl with a light sprinkling of salt to emphasize their sweetness.
It was, indeed, a perfect hot summer’s day lunch. While I don't think the taste is any better than the delicious melons I bring home from Halal Pastures, I understand why the memory of produce in Provence is so sweet for my husband. The fruit holds all of those special childhood memories.
Buttered tomatoes
When we got back to New York a week later, Théo felt a bit homesick, so I re-made a meal that my husband had shared with his father countless times growing up, just a little different. Since then, we’ve made it again because it’s so good. And again, and again, and again.
I begin by putting on a pot of rice, slicing gorgeous burgundy tomatoes from the market into wedges, and drizzling them with balsamic. In the mortar and pestle, I have Théo roughly crush up a whole bunch of pepper and fennel seeds and add them to a bowl with urfa biber. In the meantime, I sear some cod in butter, pour the remaining browned butter over the spices, and add some roughly chopped garlic to make tadka. The tadka is then poured over the sliced tomatoes, sprinkled with bush basil, and then the fish is placed on top.
It’s so quick to make and so fantastic. At the bottom of the bowl, you will find the bush basil and spices swimming in a pool of sweet-tart-umami tomato juices and spiced butter. Sponge it up with rice. Sometimes we even remix the dish a bit, swapping scallops and baby zucchini for fish, or boiled and seared potato wedges for rice.
I've set off on a buttered tomato kick. Think freshly baked sourdough with nice butter, tomatoes brushed with balsamic, and some very good cheese. Or chicken Milanese over arugula dressed in lemon, sungolds tossed in browned butter, and mayonnaise. I predict many more buttered tomatoes through the end of next month, when tomato season will be coming to a close. In the meantime, if you have any suggestions for buttered tomato dishes, please drop them in the comments.
Bite-sized
A basil crescent moon (from last year) and star (from this year) in a sky of sweet corn soup and heirloom tomato constellations. I’ve also recently re-made the ‘salad’ with a thicker version of the corn soup, it’s more of a bisque, and it’s so delicious. Both recipes are linked here.
This month, I picked my florals to match my breakfast fruit of the week. It was surely over the top, but it did make my morning coffee with fruit–one of my favorite parts of the day–feel just a little more luxurious.
I’m eating lots of ice cream. Both of these scoops are leftovers from my buttered corn ice cream with blueberry almond crisp and peach melba recipes. I put the leftovers from each in deli containers to enjoy over the course of a few weeks.
Last weekend, for Théo’s birthday, we had a little one-night vacation in the Hudson Valley. It was a lovely 36 hours. The highlights were: blasting Addison Rae’s self-titled album–you can hear the influence of Madonna’s ‘Ray of Light’ throughout (shout out my favorite track ‘Aquamarine’), an album my mother and I have listened to countless times; blueberry picking at Rose Hill Farm (the apples look like they’re coming in great); crispy-crusted burgers with a tender inside, and smooth almond ice cream, at Roll-O Dairy Bar; a delicious dinner at Mirador; a lovely stay at Six Bells featuring the perfect pillows to rest our sleepy heads on and some delicious trout at breakfast; stunning views at Kaaterskill Falls; a delicious roast chicken lunch at Kitty’s; driving to Churchtown Dairy for my favorite mint tea while listening to Mac DeMarco’s ‘Guitar’ and the first few tracks of Blood Orange’s ‘Essex Honey’ (both take me right back to my college days in the county over); then heading over to Stissing House for some truly awe-inspiring still-life inspiration and delicious dishes (the bone marrow oysters are a must).
And, yet again, no room for my Paris recs. This is unfortunate, as I did some serious croissant research again this year. (Some years ago, I made it a mission to find my favorite croissant in Paris. I believe I went to 30 bakeries and came out with a few winners. While my favorites then are no longer my favorites, I did learn a lot about croissants and what makes a great one.) I also found some new favorite restaurants. If you are interested, you can find my recs on the AMIGO app. Use my code PARISGO to skip the wait!
This is all so beautiful! I especially love the corn soups with heirloom tomatoes and all your descriptions of upstate farms. I love the herbal teas from churchtown dairy too. A trip for me wouldn’t be the same without going to cafe mutton.
One thought about tomatoes—i always find the best way to prepare them is simply marinated in salt and olive oil for about 10 minutes, maybe some fresh basil or fresh ground pepper. I find they are so acidic already that vinegars take away from the pure tomato taste that i love. My favorite way to eat them is with toast and mayonnaise or garlic aioli.
Cheers!