Summer Cooking

At some point, Summer will come to New England. Any moment now. And with it, the elusive season will bring humid (we call it “muggy,” which is so much more evocative) high temperatures and the potential for my healthy and fabulous cooking endeavors to fall by the wayside.

I’m not a big fan of grilling. Oh, I can handle the occasional burger or hot dog scraped off of a screaming hot grill at a family barbecue. That’s fine, as long as it’s understood that we’ll be returning to real food the following day. Those burn marks on bright yellow zucchini spears and red peppers gracing every summer issue of every magazine look carcinogenic, not appetizing, to me. And I’ve destroyed more fish than the BP oil spill because I cannot find that perfect balanced between blackened (some might charitably say “Cajun”) exterior and gummy uncooked interior.

On the other hand, however, who wants to deal with a 350 degree oven at the tail end of a 90 degree day?

Of the five weeknights, I can probably get away with two salad dinners: one a leafy green topped with an assortment of hard boiled egg and fruit and (probably) bacon, and the other a potato salad that I’ll have to liven up with – something, I have no ideas at the moment. Doodle has already put the kibosh on the really good corn and bean salad that I brought to last week’s Father’s Day cookout. He informed me, and I quote: “Mom, it has five ingredients, and I don’t like to eat three of them.” (In case you’re wondering, he likes avocado and lime juice, and can do without the corn, the beans, and the tomatoes.)

That leaves three nights of crossing my fingers, negotiating forkfuls, or giving up and serving peanut butter and Nutella sandwiches.

Naw, man, I ain’t going out like that.

I have a feeling that this week will find me scouring every house and garden or cooking magazine I own just to find the six or so recipes I can recycle endlessly for the next eight weeks. I know the kids will look at their plates, gauge my mood, and tentatively ask if they can just have toast instead. Rev will take a mouthful, smile wanly, and proclaim that it’s good, whatever “it” may happen to be, in an effort to convince the kids to dig in, and to save my feelings.

Maybe I’ll find some healthful, affordable, able to be pulled together in less than thirty minutes, non carb-heavy, low fat, iron rich, able to be assigned Weight Watchers points, kid-friendly, and, oh, yes, delicious entrées to carry us through the dog days of summer. Sounds easy.

Or maybe I’ll just fire up the grill, throw some burgers and franks on, and call it a day.