by Judy Schultz
The summer whizzed by, as the best summers always do. In a season gone, but not forgotten, the memorable meals all started in the garden.
If I had half a dozen do-overs, they’d include one golden evening in tiny Markerville, when the population suddenly quadrupled and we all sat together at a table that stretched for blocks. The Taste of Markerville’s Long Table Dinner showcased nine Alberta chefs, 13 local producers and a pack of friendly people enjoying, among other good things, an English pea gazpacho, a rhubarb marshmallow with crispy prosciutto and cucumber, and pickled baby potatoes with dill sour cream. Yum.
Then there was a warm evening on the deck at The Marc, not a whiffle of a breeze anywhere, just cold Sauvignon Blanc and a pile of hot frites with truffle-kissed aioli for dipping.
At the height of tomato season, the usual orange and yellow cocktail tomatoes were joined by dark green, striped and purple-to-black varieties that turned my salad platters into rainbows.
These oddball tomatoes weren’t just a pretty face. They were sweet or sharp or spicy, depending on variety, and probably on heat units. In a dark green and purple tomato with rather tough skin, I feared bland, but got sweetness with a touch of spice.
My favourite tomato dish of the summer was an accident, a tomato mozza toast that started with baby tomatoes and bocconcini that had been marinated in a fruity olive oil with garlic and basil. There were leftovers, which I spooned onto toasted baguettes. Sprinkled the toasts with a few shards of Asiago, ran it under the broiler. Again, yum!
I also loved an accidental kale and arugula omelette. Bought the baby kale and arugula mixture to beef up one lonely arugula plant from my kitchen-door garden, and had leftovers. Rough-chopped them, made a fast stir-fry with a single slice of bacon, poured in beaten eggs, topped it with crumbles of goat cheese. The bitter edge of arugula and kale mellowed nicely and the cheese brought it all together. Next time I’ll throw in a few mushrooms.
The best berry dishes were fresh and wild. When our friend Freddie showed up on his Kawasaki with a huge pail of saskatoons, what could I do but make pie? Dug up the family recipe from Saskatchewan – no fancy fluted edges, just a casual, gorgeously rustic pie with a subtle afterglow of almond, that almost-not-there flavour that fresh saskatoons always bring to the dish. (There was also the hand-churned saskatoon/rhubarb ice cream at a Saskatchewan reunion, and Saskatoon waffles, but you had to
be there.)
Now, about carrots. I don’t care what anybody says, carrots right out of the garden are beyond delicious. They’re the reason I’m part of a community garden. Scrub ‘em, steam ‘em, stir in some butter. Speck of salt, whiz of pepper. Those sweet baby carrots were among the best thing I ate this summer, along with skinny yellow beans and fresh green peas.
Finally, in praise of the lowly onion, here’s an end-of-summer onion salad to go with beef, any cut, any time. More method than recipe, it’s perfect for a fall barbecue. Start with two big, fleshy onions, one red, one white. Slice them into a bowl, and blanch them. (Pour fiercely boiling water over onions, count to ten and drain. Immediately, cover with ice cold water. Drain that too.) The onions will be pliable, though still crunchy, and will have lost the hot, sulphuric bite that makes onion-haters squirm.
Now add a dressing: half mayo, half sour cream, and as much celery seed as you like. Season to taste, cover and refrigerate several hours. Stir in a good bash of chopped parsley and the juice of half a lemon. This is terrific piled on burgers, or as a side with steak. Enjoy.