A Note From the Chef

The Scents of Summer

July 2011

The scents of summer are all around…in full bloom, ready to greet me: the smell of freshly cut grass or sliced watermelon; smoke from the barbeque or nearby fireworks; Coppertone and salt air; strawberries and peaches; tomato plants and roses. These are the smells of my childhood and they’re still with me. All summer long familiar whiffs are everywhere; in the garden, the beach, the local fair, or on city streets, and for a moment I am a child again. After years of noticing the beneficial effects of indulging my youthful memories, it has become a part of my daily routine…if I remember. And nothing else can trigger my memory as quickly as a comforting smell…yummm.

I carry that small capsule of bliss inside me, its content spilling out when I least expect it. In the kitchen I become an alchemist mixing a sprinkle or two in with the mayonnaise for the potato salad. Or sometimes a dusting gets into the Vidalia onions I’m sautéing for an omelet. Somehow the marinara sauce for tonight’s dinner tastes that much sweeter if I can take in and appreciate how the sun felt on my face that afternoon. And how can I not feel joy when the kitchen fills with the aroma of blueberries and apples from the cobbler baking in the oven and my friends are standing around ready to top it with ice cream?

I’m in heaven and I want to feed it to everyone at the table. I know the food I prepare doesn’t have to be fancy to be memorable. Some of the best meals I’ve served have been the simplest. I think it has something to do with the purity of the dish. It’s savored but doesn’t get in the way of the conversation. The food is fine with knowing it plays a supporting role to the diners. I think – and this is funny coming from a chef – that an unforgetable meal is not primarily about the food, but rather the company.

The memory of good food stays with me but the scent of a shared summer meal lingers longer. Who remembers what they ate at an exquisitely prepared banquet if everyone was fighting at the table? But who wouldn’t be nourished by a simple slice of warm, freshly baked bread if it was prepared and offered with love…just when you needed it?

For me the scents of summer are most potent when I snip the stalks of basil growing in my garden and slice it in ribbons, topping the pasta at the last minute before serving. Or when I take a bite of a ripe tomato plucked from the plant and the fragrance of its leaves lingers on my hands. I can practically smell the sun. So I take the feeling with me and spread it around.

It doesn’t matter that this summer – the first time in years – I don’t have a vegetable garden and I have to buy most of my produce from the supermarket…I can still enjoy the shopping and dream of a time when I will have a garden again. In the meantime I can boost the nutrients in the lettuce simply by having fun making the salad. My joy gets tossed along with the greens then makes its way to the risotto I’m still stirring on the stove until it’s ready to blend with the fragrant summer pesto I made from the basil, parsley and arugula growing in pots on my deck. Aha….the smells of summer…

Enjoy them,

Chef Silvia