Purslane Salad with Cantaloupe and Feta

Purslane is in season here, and if you've had the chance to buy it straight from a grower, you know that it's far more active of a plant than it might look on the shelf of Whole Foods. Purslane is no wimpy pile of leaves; it's a big, flowery, almost overgrown plant, with thick stems the size of garlic scapes and row after row of firm, round leaves. It announces itself by looks alone, and with its bright, tangy flavor, boy does it pack a punch.

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The stems of purslane, I recently discovered, are quite mucilaginous, not unlike okra. I tried to saute them in a bit of olive oil and I ended up with a stew the texture of gumbo. Next time, I'll leave the stems whole and either grill them, or saute them in a very hot pan with very hot oil, to keep the goo at bay.

But the leaves, that's where the fun is. Purslane is tart, like sorrel, which makes it a perfect pair for summer's sweetest melons.

Last week, when most of what we had in the house consisted of tomatoes in one form or another, I did manage to get my hands on both this purslane and a beautiful cantaloupe. I'd also bought a fresh block of feta, which added the much-needed salty component to this salad. The dressing was an entirely unfussy combination of sherry vinegar and good olive oil (substitute red wine vinegar if you don't have sherry), with a bit of flaky salt and pepper. And because I couldn't resist using some of the beautiful spearmint that I'd bought for the most amazing soup ever (stay tuned), that went in, too. Super simple, really refreshing.

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If you've found purslane and are looking for other things to do with it, here are a few recommendations:

• Use as a bed for steak salad or duck confit
• Add to potato salad; dress with a spicy, mustard-heavy dressing
• Toss with sesame noodles; dress with a thin, soy-based dressing heavy on the sesame oil
• Combine with sauteed tofu, julienned carrots, and some avocado in rice paper rolls; serve with peanut sauce

And if you want even more ideas, Clotilde over at Chocolate and Zucchini wrote a post with more suggestions that you can fit into a single season.

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Happy purslaning!

Purslane Salad with Cantaloupe and Feta serves 2 as a main course, 4 as an appetizer or component of a meal

1 big bunch of purslane 2 cups diced cantaloupe 5 oz. good, briny feta cheese, crumbled or cubed (your choice) 3 sprigs spearmint or peppermint, just leaves 2 tablespoons sherry or red wine vinegar 1/4 cup good olive oil flaky salt and pepper (about 1/4 teaspoon each, less if your salt is fine)

Separate the thin stems and their attached leaves from the thick central branch, and cut them into smallish sprigs.

Toss purslane, cantaloupe, feta, and mint in a large bowl.

Combine sherry, olive oil, salt, and pepper, and whisk until combined. Drizzle over salad and toss to combine. Spoon out onto small plates and serve immediately.

Peach-Tomato Salad, a few ways

An unlikely pairing, these two. Tomatoes and peaches, when at their prime, are both so juicy and flavorful that you need something crusty to soak up all those juices. Peaches get tucked under biscuit dough and baked up into cobbler. In this house, tomatoes have no finer place than atop a slice of toasted garlic-rubbed sourdough bread, drizzled with olive oil and sprinkled with flaky salt. These are noble dishes. They make intuitive sense.

But rules are meant to be broken, especially in summertime, and this is the salad to do it. It is a big, summery bowl full of juice, and there's nothing to sop it up. (Spoiler alert: serve with crusty bread.) But the juice that gathers at the bottom of the salad bowl is the purest extraction of summer. It is elixir, and you will want to hoard it, and spoon it up, and drink it straight.

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Without excellent peaches and tomatoes, this salad isn't worth making. Splurge at the farmers' market. Or, if your local famers' carry discounted "second" fruit with blemishes, this is a great place to use them. Once they're cut and macerated, you won't notice little imperfections in the fruit.

Let's talk about variations:

• Add a big handful of arugula or watercress and a couple chunks of feta cheese
• Toast 1/4 cup of almonds (or slivered almonds) and add them with a pinch of dried red chile
• Add a teaspoon of pomegranate syrup and a pinch or two of sumac
• My personal favorite: add chunks of avocado and a handful of homemade croutons

If you've got other ideas, don't hold back.

As far as how to serve this salad, other than gobble it plain, a big crusty piece of

bread

- I prefer toasted - is good for sopping up juices. You could also cut the fruit up smaller, add a chopped jalapeno and the juice of a lime, and you've got a beautiful

salsa fresca

that would be great served on any grilled white fish or on fish

tacos

. Boom.

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Or, if you literally want to drink your salad, you can make it, and then puree it into a fantastic sweet-tart gazpacho. Chile and lime optional.

Drink up, friends. Enjoy the weekend.

Peach-Tomato Salad serves 2

2 ripe, juicy peaches 2 plump, red beefsteak tomatoes 2 tablespoons good, fruity olive oil 1/2 teaspoon flaky salt freshly ground pepper to taste

Peel the peach using a peeler or a paring knife. Split in half down the dimpled pole of the peach, and pry the two half moons away from the pit. Cut each half into 4 slices, and then cut each slice in half. Transfer to a bowl with all the accumulated juices.

Cut the tomato into similar segments: cut in half, cut each half into 4 slices, and halve each slice. Transfer to the same bowl with juices.

Drizzle the olive oil over the fruit. Add some of the salt, and use a spoon to fold everything together without bruising the fruit too much. Taste, and add more salt and fresh pepper to taste. At this point, the salad is ready. It can rest happily on the counter until you're ready to eat, or you can gobble it all down immediately.

Peach-Tomato Salsa serves 4

2 ripe peaches 2 ripe tomatoes juice of half a lime half a jalapeno or serrano chile salt and pepper to taste

Peel peaches. Cut into full slices, cut each slice into strips, and cut each strip into cubes. Size is your choice - I like itsy bitsy pieces for chips, but chunky hunks for tacos.

Repeat with tomatoes, cutting into similarly sized pieces as the peaches. Dice the chile as small as you can.

Combine everything but salt and pepper in a bowl. Add salt and pepper gradually, tasting as you go, until your salsa is balanced to your taste. Serve immediately, or let the juices accumulate for a while.

Zucchini with Basil, Pine Nuts, and Croutons

Well, London may have the edge when it comes to strawberries, but DC is just bursting with amazing fruits and vegetables this time of year. And I'm going to go out on a limb and say that eating that summer produce is way, way more fun when your A/C works. Because since May, ours hasn't. And now it does. And cold air, it is wonderful. (In other news: if you've come over to our house in the last couple months and been inexplicably hot, sorry about that.)

Now that we're no longer hot from the moment we wake up in the morning, I can bear a trip down to the Sunday market. This past Sunday, I picked up some bright red, plump sour cherries, two pounds of rhubarb (for recipes I'll be telling you about soon), and some lovely baby zucchini.

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Baby zucchini is so, so pretty, no? All those different shapes and sizes? The little skinny sticks and the bigger, round patty pans? How can you not love them?

And yet, as is the case every year, I bring home a basket of those zucchini, and they sit. In the fridge. For days. Because people, I don't ever know what to do with them. They don't taste different than big zucchini, they just look different. So I feel like I have to leave them whole to preserve their cuteness. Otherwise, why not just buy the regular ones?

A couple years ago, I got hooked on this recipe for zucchini and snap peas dressed very simply with sesame oil. But not all baby zucchini can be left whole. At some point, you gotta cut the things up. Fortunately for me (and you), I've come up with a dish of zucchini sliced small enough that it can be eaten in a civilized fashion without your guests totally missing the fact that you sprang for the little guys.

The dish is inspired by something far more fussy from the legendary Dan Barber, a dish made with, yes, zucchini bread croutons. If you happen to have leftover zucchini bread lying around, this is a great way to put it to use. For the rest of us, say it with me now: summer is unfussy. Then go laugh at the fact that Oprah says this recipe takes 10 minutes. Really? Ba-ha.

Where were we? Yes. You're slicing baby zucs, getting 'em nice and browned, and tossing them with some basil oil, some toasted pine nuts, and some croutons. Simple? Simple.

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If you don't feel like making croutons, simply toast a couple pieces of bread, smear their toasted tops with some ricotta or goat cheese, and pile the zucchini on top. You can also top this with shards of a harder cheese, like parmesan or pecorino. Even a harder goat cheese would work well.

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While we're on the topic of do-what-you-want, if you -- like my beloved -- hate pine nuts (I know, how could she??), swap in almonds, hazelnuts, or no nuts whatsoever. If you don't love basil (again with D...crazy), try dill or mint. And if you don't feel like buying the baby zucs, big ones work just fine. I'm on a mission to make summer recipes flexible and un-fus-sy. I will prevail. And then we'll all not fuss one bit, and eat delicious summer food, and be very happy.

Zucchini with Basil, Pine Nuts, and Croutons Inspired by a recipe from Dan Barber serves 2-3 as a side dish or appetizer

1 pound small zucchini (about 5), trimmed and cut on the bias into 1" slices 4 tablespoons extra-virgin olive oil, separated 1/2 teaspoon flaky salt 1/4 teaspoon freshly ground pepper juice of half a lemon 1/4 cup basil chiffonade 1/4 cup pine nuts 1 cup torn croutons (I like sourdough, but any bread will work) 7 or 8 big shards of a salty, hard cheese like parmesan or pecorino (optional)  

Preheat the oven to 350 degrees and spread pine nuts onto a baking sheet in a single layer. Toast pine nuts until evenly golden, about 7 minutes. Set aside.

Add 2 tablespoons olive oil to a large heavy pan (I like cast iron) and set it over medium heat. When oil shimmers, add zucchini slices in a single layer. Season with salt and pepper, then let cook undisturbed for 3-5  minutes, until undersides are shiny and golden-brown. Patience is the virtue here; if you move the zucchini around too much, it will steam and not brown properly.

Flip browned slices onto their second side and cook for 3-5 minutes more. Meanwhile, transfer chiffonade basil (or other herb) to a small mixing bowl, and as the zucchini slices finish cooking, add them to the bowl and stir to wilt the basil. Add any oil that remains in the pan into the bowl, to help the basil wilt and emit its flavor.

Add the remaining olive oil to the same pan, heat on medium, and when it shimmers, add the croutons. Season with salt and pepper, and again, leave undisturbed for about 3 minutes until undersides are golden. Flip to get as many sides of each crouton as possible crisped and slicked with the oil. When croutons are golden and toasty, Remove to a plate.

To serve, arrange zucchini and basil, pine nuts, croutons, and cheese (if using) on a flat platter. Squeeze the lemon overtop and serve warm or at room temperature.

Garlic Scape Pesto and Three Ways to Use It

If ever there were a habit of mine that were problematic enough to warrant an intervention, it would be this: I have a jar problem.

At first, it was just tomato sauce. At the height of the season (which, get excited friends, is so near it's basically here), I spend two long afternoons with a pot of tomato mush on the stove, bubbling and simmering until it breaks down and thickens into sauce. Then I pack it into jars and tuck it away until fall. These days, I use a big pot to process my jars for shelf storage, but back in the day, I just tossed them into the back of the fridge.

Then it was jam. The strawberries, the sour cherries -- how could I resist? I always buy too many; add a little sugar, and I've made January breakfast taste like summer. And while I was already bothering, I put up some brine and started pickling cucumbers, asparagus, beets and cauliflower.

At this point I should note that our fridge is smaller than regulation size. It's small. It's not equipped to serve as a pantry for my experiments. Things have calmed down a bit since I started properly canning food, but still -- the extra egg yolks from meringue, the leftover chicken broth from last week's dinner, the five blanched asparagus waiting for tomorrow's lunch -- it's all in there. These days, I'm trying to be better about using the stuff up.

Pesto is almost always in (at least) one of the jars in our fridge. Just last week, I made one batch with the first basil of the season, and another -- the topic of today's post --  using garlic scapes.

The pesto recipe I'm sharing is the product of two wonderful recipes from Food52 and a kind hattip from my friend Josh (and I think this makes three Josh mentions in the course of 1 week. He's becoming my sensei!) Josh mentioned an outrageously good duck carbonara pizza that he'd made with a few modifications. No surprise the recipe came from my friend Cathy, she of Mrs. Wheelbarrow fame on Food52 and beyond. Josh was especially excited about the pesto that went on the pizza, which Cathy made with green garlic but I think Josh made with ramps instead. I loved the idea and decided to follow in his footsteps, except I found beautiful garlic scapes at the market, so I decided to use those instead.

(What are garlic scapes? They're the tops of the garlic plant. Good ones are taut, vivid green, and smell grassy and fresh, not nearly as pungent as garlic bulbs.)

That's when my absentmindedness kicked in. I remembered Josh saying he made ramp pesto, so I searched for a ramp pesto recipe on Food52 and found a beautiful one that won the ramps contest a while back. I followed the instructions there, subbing in pistachios for the walnuts (which, incidentally, Cathy's recipe calls for), and wound up with a fantastic little spread that looks pretty similar to the recipe Cathy wrote and Josh used.

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Lesson? Pesto is flexible. Please don't feel restricted to garlic scapes! You can swap in ramps, green garlic, basil, or any other green and have a different but equally delicious mixture, to be used in all the same places.

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What places, you ask? Here are five good ones. If you've got other favorite ways to use pesto, share'em in the comments. Let's get this thread going, folks. When you're ready to cook, the pesto recipe is below.

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1. Pizza

If you're feeling adventurous, make Cathy's beautiful duck carbonara pizza. It looks out of this world.

I've now made similar pizzas twice: once, I spread a thick layer of pesto on the dough and sprinkled chopped asparagus, chive blossoms, fresh mozzarella, and a bit of parmesan on top. I put an egg on top, but it overcooked in my smokin' hot oven. Follow Cathy's directions and you won't have that problem. So, so delicious.

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The second time, I went for the meat, again at Josh's suggestion. We had some lamb bacon in the freezer, which I fried up. I used the rendered fat to cook the asparagus, which I again put on the pizza, and this time, I left the cheese off and went for just an egg instead. Topped the whole thing with a squeeze of lemon, and it was dynamite.

2.  In Marinades

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Summer is time for grilling. For sides to accompany your burgers and grilled fish, you really can't do better than pesto-marinated vegetables. Right now, asparagus are the logical choice. When they're done for the year, try brushing tomatoes with pesto that's mixed with a bit of water and a squeeze of lemon, then grilling them, using the method in this Saveur piece. When the weather gets cool again, coat green beans with pesto for one of my favorite side dishes of all time.

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3. In a Frittata

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Frittata: world's easiest last-minute dinner. Kenzi did a great step-by-step post on how to make frittata on Food52. Follow that and you'll be golden. You can add the pesto either when you're beating the eggs, to get a more uniform taste of pesto throughout, or you can do as I prefer, and dot spoonfuls of pesto into the frittata after you've poured in the egg.

While we're talking about frittatas, here's my favorite frittata of all time. I can't think of a more perfect place to add garlic scape pesto. And here's a recipe for pesto frittata bites. You really can't go wrong.

Friends, how do you use pesto? Garlic scape or otherwise? Share your thoughts in the comments.

Garlic Scape Pestoinspired by Cathy's recipe and SAENYC's recipe on Food52 Makes a scant pint

1 bunch garlic scapes, chopped (my bunch of 5 scapes made about 2 cups) 1/2 cup pistachios 2 tablespoons water 1/3 cup olive oil plus more if necessary 1/2 cup grated parmesan cheese salt and pepper to taste

Combine scapes and pistachios, cheese, and water in a blending or mixing apparatus; I've used a hand blender for this recipe and it works great, but of course the food processor also does the job, if you have one.

Blend until mixture starts to break down. With the motor running, drizzle in olive oil and continue blending until mixture looks like pesto. If things look too chunky, add a couple extra tablespoons of olive oil.

Taste, and add salt and pepper as needed.

Pack pesto into a jar. If you're hoping to keep it longer than a week, top with a healthy drizzle of olive oil, which will help preserve it for longer.

Use in everything. Except ice cream.