The dog days of summer seemed to have passed us by this year without ever actually arriving, unless you consider the phrase to have more to do with one’s lethargy than hot, sultry weather. The windows are open, and from time to time, chilly breezes waft through the house forcing me to don a sweater but I acknowledge that it’s worth not having to tolerate the excessive heat everyone else seems to be dealing with this year. I prefer cool weather and this morning, we’re shrouded in fog, with large puffs of it lazily slipping past the kitchen window. It feels more like spring than summer on most days, and so of course daydreams abound and hours pass with much less accomplished than I like to admit. Even cooking has had little appeal, odd if you’re someone like me who measures life in food years. Is there such a thing?
It would seem then, that dinner should be something cool and light to share with those sweltering in a too hot summer. And for me, it should be something to work on slowly as thoughts come and go, with no particular focus. Unlike other tasks begun and left to be finished in a day or so, at least I know dinner will happen. It will be flavorful, fresh, and worth every single bite.
Like a BLT, without the bread.
















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