Though the last few months have been a meteorological roller coaster here in Colorado, the temperatures that now soar up near or above 90 every day indicate that summer has finally arrived in full. The air conditioner in our apartment can hardly keep up with the summer sun, blazing through our western-facing windows on its long descent toward the mountains. Fortunately, our freezer faces no such challenge and can house within it a treasure trove of icy treats perfect for combating the summer heat. And what better way to welcome the arrival of the season than with a dessert that features one of its most celebrated fruits?

Ahhh, rhubarb. Such pretty stalks. Such poisonous leaves. (Seriously, don’t eat the leaves.) And such a short growing season that it’s best to indulge heavily when it finally appears. I can hardly prevent myself from making into my favorite Rhubarb Crisp, but in an effort to broaden my horizons, I dug into a very, very vintage cookbook to find some new ideas. To my delight, I discovered marlow, a dessert that is now so out of the common psyche that when I poked around to learn more, I couldn’t even find it on Wikipedia.

From what I’ve pieced together, marlow is a marshmallow-based dessert that can either be frozen to mimic ice cream or chilled to mimic mousse. It can feature a variety of flavors as the marshmallow, sugar, and heavy cream act as a clean canvas onto which you can paint rhubarb, cherries, chocolate, butterscotch, or anything else you want to eat for dessert. After the fruit (in this case) is cooked down with sugar, the marshmallows and whipped cream are mixed in to create a frothy, fluffy mixture ready for freezing.

If you fancy fruity ice cream but don’t want the hassle of making it yourself, I highly recommend trying this instead. The method is incredibly straightforward and creates a dessert so reminiscent of ice cream you’ll hardly realize it’s not. Plus look how trendy you’ll be if you’re on the front end of bringing back marlow!

Rhubarb Marlow
Adapted from Meta Given’s Modern Encyclopedia of Cooking

1 pound rhubarb, diced (about 3 cups)
1 T water
3/4 c granulated sugar
1/4 tsp salt
4 oz mini marshmallows
1 c heavy whipping cream
1 T lemon juice

Place bread pan or other medium-sized dish in the freezer to chill. Make sure cream stays in the fridge until it is ready for whipping.

Place rhubarb and water in a medium sauce pan over medium heat. Cook, stirring often, until juices begin to release, about 5 minutes. Add sugar and stir until sugar has dissolved. Continue cooking until rhubarb is tender but not broken down, about 10 minutes. Remove from heat and add salt and marshmallows. Mix thoroughly until marshmallows have completely melted. Pour the mixture into another bowl and place in the fridge to chill until it is not warm to the touch.

Once the rhubarb mixture has cooled, combine heavy cream and lemon juice and beat until stiff peaks form. Fold whipped cream into the rhubarb mixture, then turn it into the chilled bread pan. Freeze for 4-6 hours or until it is the consistency of fluffy ice cream.

Ever since I developed my recipe for fajita seasoning, I’ve been pretty lazy on the taco recipe front. The fajita seasoning is sooo versatile: virtually any taco, fajita, quesadilla, etc. can be fully-flavored with it. Plus, it’s quick to make with spices that I always have on hand. I go through batches of it at a fairly rapid clip.

But in the throes of my recent love affair with sweet cherries, I stumbled across this recipe. Pork, rubbed with a paste of garlic, lime, and ground chipotle and topped with charred onions, peppers, queso fresco, and a bright, cherry salsa studded with cilantro and lime Um, YES.

These tacos are delightfully flavorful. The smoky chipotle plays nicely with the bright, sweet, fruity cherries and limes. And while I typically look to chicken or steak for my tacos, the pork is really the best canvas here. The rub and the salsa can be made well in advance, but they certainly don’t have to. This is definitely a weeknight-worthy operation.

This batch makes enough filling for about 8 tacos, but it can easily be changed to feed a crowd. Plus, if you store the different toppings separately, this makes INCREDIBLE leftovers.

So if you, like me, have not yet released your grip on summer cherries, put these tacos on your to do list for the week.

Pork Tacos with Cherry-Lime Salsa
Adapted from Eating Well

Makes about 8 tacos

For the Pork
2 cloves garlic
1 tsp salt
1 tsp ground chipotle pepper
zest of two limes
4 tsp fresh lime juice
1 lb pork tenderloin (I used strips for mine, but that’s just what I had on hand)

Mince garlic. Combine garlic and salt in a bowl and press with a spoon (or use a mortar and pestle) until it forms a paste. Add chipotle, lime zest, and lime juice and mix well. Rub paste all over pork. Refrigerate until other ingredients are prepared.

For the Salsa
1 c pitted & chopped fresh sweet cherries (use dark red if you can for the drama!)
1/4 c finely chopped cilantro
4 tsp fresh lime juice
1/4 tsp salt
1/4 tsp ground chipotle pepper

Combine all ingredients in a small dish and set aside. You’ll add some onion once you’ve charred it, so keep the salsa close by.

Assembly
3 T canola oil, divided
1 medium white or yellow onion, sliced in half-moons
1 green bell pepper, seeded and sliced into strips
2-3 cranks freshly ground black pepper
pinch of course salt
3/4 c crumbled queso fresco
8 taco-sized flour or white-corn tortillas

Heat two medium-sized skillets over medium and add 1 1/2 T of oil to each one. In one pan, add the onions, peppers, pepper, and salt. Toss frequently until onions and peppers are slightly charred and have softened slightly, about 10 minutes. Meanwhile, add the seasoned pork to the other pan. Cook until pork reaches a 145°F internal temperature and all sides are golden-brown.

Remove 6-7 slices of onion and chop finely. Add these to the cherry salsa.

To warm tortillas, place in the oven at 170°F on a cookie sheet that has another cookie sheet as a lid for 5-10 minutes. The lid will prevent the tortillas from becoming crispy. Or, place them in a stack on a plate with another plate as a lid and microwave for 30 seconds.

Add a bit of pork, peppers and onions, salsa, and queso fresco to each tortilla.

One of the most amazing but frustrating things about moving all the time is that I am constantly re-learning local produce. While most of the produce itself has remained the same from city to city and state to state, the timing has shifted a month or two or even three in different climates. But tree fruit. Tree fruit has been the one genre of produce that has just been completely unpredictable as I’ve moved from place to place. DC’s tree fruit scene was insanely awesome. Durham, on the other hand, not so much (though GOD I miss the blueberries.) Columbus had great apples and decent peaches, but not really any cherries or plums to speak of.

Moving back to Colorado, I knew I would return to a land of great, high-altitude peaches from Palisade and other farming communities on the Western Slope. But I did not expect the cherries.

Oh em gee the cherries!

Colorado has had rather a bumper crop this  year, and I’m obsessed. For weeks now, I’ve been eating them faster than I can buy them. In fact I COMPLETELY missed strawberry season because I was so distracted by these round little rubies. Which, actually, is fine with me because the cherry is my new number one.

And not just for dessert. I’ve been playing around with this savory cherry jam and I’m kind of really into it. It’s a super-quick roasted refrigerator jam that, aside from pitting a pound of cherries, is pretty hands off. Nice and smoky with a smoked paprika, it’s very, very tasty.

This jam is crazy good on pork chops. I smeared some on crackers with cream cheese while I was stress-eating at work and it was utterly delightful. And my favorite use so far was as a condiment to elevate what was a pretty basic sandwich.

Try it! Love it! Buy a cherry pitter to make even more of it!

Savory Cherry Jam
Adapted from Eating Well

Note: I have not tested the pH of this jam to determine if it is safe for water-bath canning. Stick this is as a fridge jam for now.

1 lb (about 2 cups) sweet cherries, pitted and halved
juice from 1/2 a naval orange (about 1/4 c)
1/2 T fresh thyme (or 1/4 tsp dried)
1/2 tsp smoked paprika
1/4 tsp kosher salt
3-4 cranks freshly ground black pepper

Preheat oven to 450°F. Combine all ingredients in a small baking dish. Roast for 35-40 minutes, stirring several times, until cherries are softened and juices have thickened.

Store in an airtight container in the refrigerator.

I have this issue with cheesecake. The issue is that if it is in my fridge, or available for purchase on a dessert menu, or available for purchase within walking distance, or even capable of being created with ingredients in my apartment, I have exactly 0% ability to resist it. As a result I make a point of not buying cream cheese very often. If I don’t have that one essential component, I can pretend that I’m happy living a life where I don’t eat cheesecake every single day for breakfast, lunch, dinner, and dessert, right Right??

I live for good cheesecake. But I am kind of picky about what makes one good. There are few things more disappointing than cheesecake that looks delicious and is, well, meh. If it’s too lemony or too dry or too rich or too dense or has too much topping or not enough or has too many mix-ins or just a gross combo of them or the crust is too thick or some crazy person put CINNAMON in it I get really cranky.

Most of the time, when it’s time to make cheesecake again, I fall back on two, trusty recipes I’ve used for a long time. The first is a classic, baked cheesecake that, actually, I’ve only shared here in a version dressed up for Thanksgiving. The other I fashion exclusively in miniature form, a holiday tradition in my family as essential as the tree and the Home Alone soundtrack.

But this summer, I’ve been reveling in the availability of locally-grown sweet cherries (difficult to obtain in both Columbus and Durham), and a cherry cheesecake seemed like just the ticket. And while we are “enjoying” the high-nineties here in Denver, I’m pleased to report that the oven was only on for a few minutes, and even that is not totally required if you don’t want to.

The crust is made of vanilla wafers, but you can easily swap in graham cracker crumbs if you like. They’ll need to be finely ground, which you can do with a food processor (lots of cleaning) or with a plastic bag and rolling pin or meat tenderizer (not much cleaning and way more fun). I like my crusts a little toasty, so I blast it in the oven for a bit, but you can also eat this sucker raw. Your call.

The filling is composed of a magical dairy medley: cream cheese, goat cheese, sour cream, and heavy cream. Also sugar and vanilla and lemon juice. Because the cream is whipped and folded into the tart cheese mixture, it creates a somewhat airy cheesecake that will likely give you a false sense of empowerment when evaluating how many slices to wolf down.

Then, for an agonizing two hours, we wait. Because this recipe doesn’t benefit from the structure of eggs baked into the cake, it finds its structure in the freezer. After freezing, move it to the fridge for 45 minutes before serving so you’re not actually serving cheesecake ice cream. (On second thought, that sounds amazing and I should try serving it frozen next time.)

While the cake is freezing, it’s time to make the most seductive looking fruit sauce in the known universe. I mean it, this stuff is SULTRY. Composed of fresh cherries, sugar, balsamic vinegar, and just a bit if corn starch to thicken up the juices, it’s simple and beautiful and a perfect celebration of this gorgeous tree fruit. Half of the cherries are added to the mixture raw at the very end, which lends a fresh bite that’s typically hard to find in pie toppings, pie fillings, and the like.

I mean SERIOUSLY.

Chill the cherry sauce for a while so it doesn’t melt your cheesecake when you add it. Once it and your cheesecake are ready for serving, pop the ring off the springform pan and top generously.

As a side note, the cherries are extremely delicious on their own, so it’s totally cool if you want to add extra to each slice once it is served. Or eat them with a spoon for breakfast.

This cheesecake will allegedly last a week in the fridge, but that’s the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard.

(Almost) No-Bake Cheesecake with Fresh Cherry Sauce
Adapted from Martha Stewart

Note: The (Almost) in this recipe is there because I like a toasted crumb crust, even in the summer. BUT. You can definitely eat the crust raw. Just put the whole pan in the fridge after you’ve pressed the crust into the base until you are ready to add the filling.

For the Crust
6 oz vanilla wafers, finely ground
4 T salted butter
2 T granulated sugar

Preheat oven to 450°F. Grind vanilla wafers in a food processor, or, to make your life easier, crush them in a gallon-sized zippered bag with a rolling pin or blunt meat tenderizer. Combine crumbs, melted butter, and sugar in the bottom of a 9″ springform pan. Press the mixture into the bottom of the pan with a fork. Bake for 10 minutes, then refrigerate until filling is ready.

For the Filling
1 c sour cream, room temperature
8 oz cream cheese, room temperature
4 oz soft goat cheese, room temperature
1 tsp vanilla extract
1/2 tsp lemon juice
2/3 c granulated sugar
1 c heavy cream, chilled

Beat sour cream, cream cheese, goat cheese, vanilla extract, lemon juice, and 1/3 c of sugar in a stand mixer until smooth. Scrape down the sides of the bowl several times to ensure smoothness. Remove mixture to a medium bowl.

Whip the remaining 1/3 c sugar and the cream until soft peaks form. Fold into cheese mixture until evenly distributed. Spread evenly into the crust. Freeze for at least two hours, then refrigerate for at least 45 minutes before serving.

For the Topping
12 oz fresh sweet cherries, halved and pitted
1/4 c granulated sugar
1 1/2 tsp balsamic vinegar
1 T corn starch
1 T water

In a small glass or bowl, mix together the corn starch and water. Set aside. In a small pot, combine half of the cherries, sugar, and balsamic vinegar. Bring to a simmer, then reduce heat and cover, simmering for 5 more minutes. Add the cornstarch mixture and cook for another 2-3 minutes until sauce has thickened slightly. Remove from heat and add in remaining cherries.

To serve, spread the cherry mixture over the cheesecake, slice, and enjoy. Or, spoon the cherries over each slice individually.

I’m a pretty big fan of lemonade. Last year I finally nailed down a recipe for a delightful home-squeezed version, and I find lots of excuses to make it when it’s hot outside and all I want in this world is a glass of sweet, tart, cold, perfect summer beverage. Mmmmmmm.

I also love orange juice. After my recent trip to San Diego, I brought home five precious pounds of oranges and could think of no better use for them than to squeeze them into juice. So I did and it was perfect and glorious and I had no regrets except that I don’t have a citrus grove in my Colorado apartment complex. I would almost give up my life in Colorado to live in a place with orange trees. Almost.

Have you ever worked with blood oranges before They are just so… provocative. Their skin is thin and blushes slightly, but upon slicing one open, you are met with simply stunning color. They vary: some are flushed with just a bit of red, like an orange with a sunburn, some are bright pink, and some are so deeply purple you can hardly believe they are same species of fruit. On their own, these oranges make the most MAGNIFICENT juice. If you have a happen to have a blood orange tree, please tell me that you make lots of blood orange juice. Also please send me your address so that I can move in with you.

I digress.

Anyway, when I found myself with an abundance of both lemons and blood oranges, I wondered what would happen if I mixed their juices together. The result Pink lemonade orange juice!

The combination of the rich, velvety blood orange juice and the clean, tart lemonade is completely delightful. Suitable for ANY time of day and any day of the year.

Seriously, does anyone have a blood orange tree and a spare bedroom?

Blood Orange Lemonade
Adapted from Simply Recipes

1/2 c granulated sugar
3/4 c water
zest of one lemon
zest of one blood orange
1/2 c lemon juice (juice 3 lemons)
1/2 c blood orange juice (juice of 4-5 blood oranges)
2 c water (to dilute)

Combine sugar and 3/4 c water in a small pot. Scrub all fruits until clean, then pat dry. Zest one lemon and one blood orange and add the zest to the sugar and water. Stir the pot, then heat over medium-high heat until the sugar is dissolved and mixture just begins to simmer. Remove from heat and set aside.

While the simple syrup cools, zest the remaining fruits if you’re planning to freeze the zest (they are much easier to zest before juicing). Juice the fruits and strain to remove all the seeds and if you wish, the pulp.

Combine lemon juice, blood orange juice, and simple syrup in a pitcher. Add 2 cups water to dilute. If you prefer your lemonade even thinner, add up to a cup more.

Refrigerate for 2-3 hours, then serve over ice.

I write to you now from a new home! In mid-July, Brad and I packed up our lovely Ohio apartment, left our jobs, and drove nearly 1300 miles across the continent to Colorado. It’s a domestic destination I’ve had for a long, long time: having spent eleven years away, I’m finally living back in the land of dry air, big skies, and seemingly endless sunshine. And our new apartment, full of windows and light, has the view to prove it.

It’s so great to be back!

And spectacular vistas aren’t the only benefit Colorado has to offer. It’s peach season here, and Palisade, Colorado is famous for growing wonderful peaches. They’re so perfectly delightful raw — juicy and cool and bursting with flavor — that I can rarely justify breaking them down for cooking. But I’ve been on a fruit crisp kick in recent months, so I thought I’d give one a try.

Originally, this recipe was designed for halved peaches, with their skins, and with a buttery almond mixture smushed across the face of each before baking. The peaches form their own little baking dishes this way, and there’s no hassle of peeling or slicing. However, I found the peach skin to be someone irritating, so I gave it a shot in a more traditional slices-of-fruit-buried-by-crumbly-goodness format. I definitely prefer the latter.

Even with the slicing, this recipe is outrageously easy. Almonds, sugars, oats, spices, and butter are whirled for a bit in a food processor. Peaches are blanched (so the skins slip right off) and sliced. Crumble is crumbled. Then, 45 minutes in the oven while you do other things.

The result is a layer of warm peaches that hold their shape topped with a slightly caramelized, slightly crispy almond crumble that compliments the fruit below perfectly. This particular recipe is for a small batch (I only had 5 peaches on hand), but it could easily be doubled or tripled if your baking for a crowd.

Served warm with a dollop of vanilla ice cream, you’ll ache for summer to last all year long. Or at least peach season, I suppose.

Peaches with Almond Crisp
Adapted from Smitten Kitchen

5 ripe peaches
1/2 c raw almonds
2 T white sugar
2 T dark brown sugar, packed
1/4 c rolled oats
1/8 tsp cinnamon
1/8 tsp sea salt
3 T unsalted butter, cubed and cold

Preheat oven to 350°F. Grease an 8″x8″ baking dish and set aside. Blanch peaches by dipping them in boiling water for 30 seconds or so and then submerging them in ice water. Peel the skins and slice. Spread the peaches evenly in the baking dish and set aside.

Pulse almonds and white sugar in a food processor until just a few small pebbles remain. Add brown sugar, oats, cinnamon, and sea salt and pulse a time or two more. Add butter and pulse until mixture forms buttery clumps. Loosely sprinkle the almond mixture over the peaches.

Bake for 45 minutes. Serve warm with a dollop of vanilla ice cream or lightly-sweetened whipped cream.

And it’s not just for dinner! I’ve now become quite obsessed with using corn in breakfast. In this particular one, it joints a few other mid-summer veggies (also bacon) as a really, really good hash.

The corn, green onions, and bacon provide a nice crunch against tender new potatoes, and a soft-cooked egg truly make this a meal worth eating.

So pretty, so tasty, and so much excellent summer flavor!

Le sigh. I just want every morning to be a slow summer morning that starts with this.

Corn & Bacon Hash
Adapted, just a smidge, from Smitten Kitchen

6 slices of thick-cut bacon, diced
1 pound red potatoes, cut into small cubes
2 ears of corn, kernels cut from the corn
1 bunch scallions, thinly sliced
1/2 tsp salt
1/4 tsp black pepper

Cook bacon in a large frying pan over medium heat until the fat is rendered. Once it is crisp, use a slotted spoon to remove the bacon to a plate lined with paper towels. Leave the fat in the pan and add the potatoes.

Increase the heat to medium-high. Sprinkle potatoes with half of the salt and pepper. Cook for 15-20 minutes or until potatoes can easily be pierced with a fork and are golden-brown on the the outside.

Add the corn to the skillet and bump the heat up just a bit. Cook the potatoes and corn together for 5-6 minutes, stirring frequently, until the corn browns a bit.

Heat a small frying pan over medium heat. Add a teaspoon of butter and crack an egg into the skillet, taking care not to break the yolk. Allow to cook for 1-2 minutes, then flip the egg to cook the other side. Cook for a minute more for an over-medium egg. Remove to a small plate and repeat with the second egg.

While the eggs finish cooking, add the drained bacon and the green onions to the corn and potatoes and mix well. Turn off the heat and season to taste with the remaining salt and pepper.

Serve a couple scoops of hash and top with one of the eggs.

But here, I stalk the market every Saturday in May hoping that this is the week when those photogenic strawberries will finally make their annual debut.

The trouble is, I have very little self-control when I secure, at last, these scarlet gems. The bulk discounts for buying more than one quart literally always get me, and I arrive at home suddenly doubting that I’ll be able to use up multiple quarts of berries before they wither and rot in my fridge.

This time, I was ready.

As you may have noticed, I tend to prefer using strawberries as whole as possible in my baked goods, which usually means they are freshly sliced and added to a cake with a smear of whipped cream. This cake still starts with berries that haven’t been pureed or cooked down, but after nearly an hour in the oven, they transform into dollops of jam and nestle into the cake beneath in the most delightful way.

I suspect, though I have not yet tested it, that this cake could be made with any number of berries. Perhaps even other baking fruits, like peaches or plums, would make delectable toppings. I’ll wager that as the summer wears on and the fruits appear in more abundance, I’ll be giving them a try. I won’t need much provocation to try this cake again.

I call this cake an anytime cake because it can just as easily be served for breakfast as it can for dessert. It would make a lovely brunch contribution but would also hold its own as the sweet finish of a decadent evening dinner party.

So as summer continues and the strawberries get even sweeter, please add this to your list of ways to use them up. It’s lovely just as it is out of the pan, but it really transcends to a higher level with a dollop of lightly sweetened whipped cream and a sprinkle of powdered sugar.

Welcome, summer!

Strawberry Anytime Cake
Adapted slightly from Smitten Kitchen

about 1 pound of strawberries, hulled and halved (you may have a few leftovers if you’re using a 9″ pan)
6 T unsalted butter at room temperature
7/8 c granulated sugar + 2 T granulated sugar (for sprinkling right before baking)
1/2 c whole milk
1 1/2 tsp vanilla extract
1 large egg
1 1/2 c all-purpose flour
1 1/2 tsp baking powder
1/2 tsp table salt

powdered sugar for sprinkling
1/2 c heavy cream, cold
2 tsp granulated sugar

Preheat oven to 350°F. Grease a 9″ springform pan or deep dish pie plate. You can also use a 10″ pan for a thinner cake with more strawberries across the top. Wash, hull, and halve the strawberries and set aside.

In the bowl of a standing mixer or in another large mixing bowl, beat butter and 7/8 c sugar until light and fluffy. Mix in the whole milk, egg, vanilla just until combined. In a small bowl, whisk together the flour, baking powder, and salt. Add the dry mixture to the wet mixture gradually just until smooth.

Spread the batter evenly in the pan and place the strawberries on the top, cut-side down, as close together as possible. There may be some overlapping. Sprinkle the remaining 2T of sugar evenly across the top of the berries.

Bake for 10 minutes, then reduce heat to 325°F. Bake for another 55-60 minutes or until a toothpick comes out without any wet batter. If the top of the cake is not yet brown, change to the broiler for just a minute or two to allow the cake to brown a bit.

Let the cake cool for 10-15 minutes in the pan, then remove the ring of the springform pan and place the cake on a cutting board or serving plate. Beat the heavy cream in a standing mixer or other mixing bowl until soft peaks form. Add the 2 teaspoons of sugar and beat until stiff peaks form.

Just before serving, sprinkle cake with powdered sugar. Cut into wedges and serve with whipped cream.

There aren’t many things that can break me out of my water-all-time-time beverage habit, but the arrival of summer weather is one of them. And lemonade is usually first in line for my liquid-y cravings. Amazingly, though, I’d never made it from scratch until earlier this spring during the citrus extravaganza following my trip to California.

I can’t believe I waited so long.

Woe to the time I’ve wasted buying lemonade from the grocery. Woe to the powdery mix that’s walking around emulating this precious elixir. Using only a few lemons, you can make the most perfect, delightful lemonade with hardly any effort at all. Please do so as soon as possible.

A misconception I had about lemonade is the quantity of lemons needed. Perhaps from previous experiences making orange juice, which tastes great but takes FOREVER since you need pounds and pounds of oranges to put together even a quart of OJ. Lemonade, on the other hand, is an ade for a reason: let’s be honest, none of us wants to drink straight, undiluted lemon juice, so it takes only a few lemons to provide enough flavor for a half gallon or so of lemonade.

To start, make a simple syrup of sugar and water. I also add a couple lemons-worth of zest to give the final product an extra punch, but you can leave it out if you prefer a softer flavor. The simple syrup allows the sugar to dissolve completely so it doesn’t separate when your lemonade chills.

The simple syrup is then mixed with fresh-squeezed lemon juice and some additional water to dilute the mixture. You can drink it without diluting, but it’s going to be quite intense and sugary.

The final product is the quintessential lemonade: tart, cold, clean lemon flavor with a bit of sugar to elevate it to something more than I ever thought lemonade could be.

Now I could definitely drink the whole batch in one meal. But I want to experience this perfect lemonade whenever I want, so I opted to drink one glass and then make popsicles out of the rest. I had no idea how they would turn out, but this was one experiment that totally worked!

Now, wrapped in foil, I can have a little serving of sunshine whenever I like. Wanna make your own Here’s the popsicle-maker!

Basic, Perfect Lemonade + Lemonade Popsicles
Adapted from Simply Recipes

3/4 c granulated sugar
1 c water
zest of one lemon
1 c freshly-squeezed lemon juice (about 5 lemons)
2 c water (to dilute)

Combine sugar and 1 c water in a small pot. Scrub all five lemons until clean, then pat dry. Zest one lemon and add the zest to the sugar and water. Stir the pot, then heat over medium-high heat until the sugar is dissolved and mixture just begins to simmer. Remove from heat and set aside.

While the simple syrup cools, zest the remaining lemons if you’re planning to freeze the zest (they are much easier to zest before juicing). Juice the lemons and strain to remove all the seeds and if you wish, the pulp.

Combine lemon juice and simple syrup in a pitcher. Add 2 cups water to dilute. If you prefer your lemonade even thinner, add up to a cup more.

Refrigerate for 2-3 hours, then serve over ice with slices of lemon if you like things pretty.

To Make Popsicles: Pour the lemonade into a popsicle mold and freeze solid. Remove from the mold and wrap pops individually in foil. Freeze until you’re ready for a refreshing summer snack.

As far as Brad is concerned, they are the only potstickers worth eating – why even bother, he asks I, on the other hand, have yet to find a filling for these fried little dumplings that I don’t like, so I occasionally play with alternatives. This is, currently, my favorite alternative.

If the Pork & Ginger Apple potstickers taste like autumn, these ones taste like spring. The ingredients are fairly simple: crisp green onions and peas accompanied by sautéed spinach and mushrooms. The bright flavors of the onions and peas are balanced out by the dark, earthy spinach and, my favorite, mushrooms sautéed in butter and soy sauce.

Though the filling is mixed, the tedious (and somewhat off-putting) aspect of potstickers lies ahead: assembly. Though it’s not difficult to create these little pouches with a frilly, folded edge, it does take some time and is usually the reason I only make potstickers as a treat rather than a weeknight meal. However, because they freeze so nicely, putting the effort in for a couple hours on a Sunday afternoon can result in multiple super-quick weeknight meals from the freezer.

Plus, folding your potstickers be a simple or as complex as you like. When I first started, I just folded them over and squashed the edges together. I’ve seen fancy ones at restaurants with TONS of folds that must have been created by people with less chubby fingers than me. These days, I like my six-fold method, which provides makes them nice and pretty but also helps the bottom stay nice and flat for a larger crisping area.

Suddenly, after working six at a time, you’ll have a whole army of perfect little pouches.

At this point, you can freeze the potstickers for future quick dinners. Or, you can cook them by crisping the bottom, steaming the dumplings, and then re-crisping the bottom again before serving.

The resulting potstickers are delightfully springy. You could certainly put all the ingredients in a food processor if you want a smoother texture, but I like the contrast between the bright, crisp peas and the soft, salty mushrooms. You can also mix up the ingredients, if you like. Prefer edamame instead of peas Tofu instead of mushrooms They’re quite flexible.

Happy spring dining!

Sweet Pea & Mushroom Potstickers

Makes about 48 potstickers

2 c frozen or fresh peas
1 bunch scallions
1 pound white mushrooms
2 T unsalted butter
2 T soy sauce
1 tsp freshly-grated ginger
4 oz fresh spinach
40-50 dumpling wrappers
canola or vegetable oil
chicken stock
soy sauce for dipping

Pour peas into a large mixing bowl (if using fresh peas, blanch peas and drain thoroughly before adding to the bowl). Chop scallions and add them to the bowl. Slice mushrooms, then wash and pat dry spinach.

Heat a frying pan over medium-high heat. Add butter, mushrooms, soy sauce, and ginger. Sauté until mushrooms have cooked down and are nicely browned. Pour the mushrooms into the mixing bowl and return the pan to the stove, reducing the heat to medium. Add spinach and toss until it cooks down to be quite wilted, about 3 minutes. Add the spinach tot he mixing bowl and mix all ingredients well.

To form the potstickers, work in batches of no more than 6-8 at a time to prevent the wrappers from drying out. Place about two tablespoons of filling on each wrapper. You’ll want enough filling that the pouch will seem like it almost won’t close, but not so much that it doesn’t close. Dip your finger in a small bowl of water and wet the edge of the wrapper all the way around.

Fold the edges together to form a half moon shape by making a small fold in the front flap and pressing that fold against the back flap between your thumb and finger. Create another fold to the right of that and press against the back flap, and then another. Repeat with three more folds down the other side so that the entire pouch is sealed. You can daub additional water onto the wrapper if needed. Place completed potstickers on a cookie sheet and cover with a cloth to prevent the edges from drying out. Continue until all filling is used.

To cook the potstickers, heat a sauté that has a lid over medium heat. Add just enough oil to the pan to cover the bottom and heat until the oil glistens. Add the potstickers to the pan (as many as can comfortably fit with a bit of space in between) with the frilly seam facing up. Allow potstickers to cook without moving them for 3-4 minutes or until the bottom is golden-brown and crisp to the touch. Add 1/4 chicken stock to the pan and quickly add the lid. Steam the potstickers for 2 minutes.

Remove the lid and cook for one additional minute so the bottoms of the potstickers crisp back up. Remove to a serving tray and repeat with remaining potstickers. You may need to add more oil between each batch.

Serve immediately with soy sauce. You can jazz up the soy sauce a bit by adding a pinch of garlic, ginger, or red pepper if you like.

To Freeze: If you want to freeze your potstickers, freeze them before you cook them by laying them on a cookie sheet so they are not touching and freeze until solid. Then place them all in a freezer-safe plastic bag and store. To cook, use the same sear/steam/sear instructions as above, though you may need an extra minute of steaming.