I admit it: I'm a heat wimp. Anything over 80 and I cannot exercise outside, cannot get anything done at home, and in general cannot think straight. I certainly cannot follow a recipe. If I'm lucky, I have done a good job of shopping and can get by with simply throwing together ingredients that seem compatible.
Here's my Sunday dinner line-up for this weekend's heat wave.
Fava beans (shelled, blanched, peeled), corn (roasted on the grill for a minute or two), diced prosciutto, shaved raw fennel, ricotta salata, olive oil, salt.
Potato salad. Yukon gold potatoes (peeled, diced, boiled), thinly sliced radishes, sliced green olives, onion, fresh dill, creme fraiche.
Grilled chicken breasts. My wonderful butcher (Magnani's on Hopkins) is happy to cut for me organic breasts, skin, no bones. And they're equally happy to wrap up the bones separately for stock making. I pound each breast to equal thickness, drizzle with olive oil, and sprinkle with salt, pepper, and fresh rosemary. The meat sits like this at room temperature for about an hour before I grill it, skin-side down for about eight minutes and then a few minutes on the other side. It's important to let it rest for a while, just like steak, to soak back up the juices before slicing. I make more than we can eat. Because who knows when the famous San Francisco fog will come rolling through The Gate to deliver me from my misery so I can think straight and turn on my oven once again.
We finished up with a green salad and for dessert a fruit salad of white nectarines and blueberries dressed in a melted and then cooled rose geranium jelly. Just because I'm making Sunday dinner doesn't mean I can't do a little refrigerator cleaning.
Off to take another shower. How do people in other parts of the country do this heat thing? Oh right—air conditioning.