how to eat like a bird

a green tomato vinaigrette

This dressing's a potential keeper. But not on iceberg lettuce. Even with a jalapeño garnish, it lacked the texture and pungency to break through the anemia of supermarket iceberg. I longed for a chunky Roquefort or even a spicy carrot and ginger slaw.

But as directed by the original Food and Wine recipe, it would be perfect on an assortment of juicy heirloom tomatoes. It's creamy and mildly tangy--I tend to like any dressing with a rice vinegar base--and it's more interesting than your standard balsamic. It's also simple to make.

You take your lone green tomato (one in its prime would perhaps be best, but I thought this recipe a good way to use one past its prime and unfit for any other function, i.e., being tossed in cornmeal and fried in butter for a fried green tomato BLT sandwich), boil it in water for 7 minutes until the skin has softened a bit, let it sit in an ice bath of cold water, peel the skin and core it, and blend in large chunks with one-quarter cup of rice vinegar, 6 tablespoons of canola oil added gradually, a healthy pinch of sugar, and sea salt and cracked black pepper to taste. I had seasoned rice vinegar so I didn't add the sugar--only a dash of salt and the pepper.

You can let this sit in the fridge for three days. Food and Wine suggests sprinkling minced chilies over the tomatoes, so that wasn't my wacky idea on the iceberg. I liked it because it added some piquancy and crunch, and since I'm done undermining a perfectly good STAFF FAVORITE recipe for my own capricious purposes (didn't want to go out of my way for fresh summer tomatoes that will only be here for a few more weeks), I would suggest you try it their way.      

a watermelon and feta salad

I know what I'm going to eat for the rest of summer. Watermelon and feta sound strange together, but it's a common enough combination in Greece, and variations of the salad keep popping up in sources like the Best American Recipes cookbooks. This Nigella recipe is all over the web, and if you want something fancier or a little more challenging, try Patrick Vaccariello's port wine version with pine nuts and arugula, as told to the Village Voice when asked to describe his last meal on earth.

Not feeling the need to source ingredients in 95 degree weather, I started with Nigella's, and fighting every instinct I had, decided to be flexible. No parsley or black olives. No accounting for measurements. Shallots instead of red onions because that's what I had. I let sliced shallots steep in lime juice for about 20 minutes, and added a dash of extra virgin olive oil, and some sea salt and pepper. Poured that over chunks of watermelon and smaller chunks of Greek feta, and threw some mint on top of that. That was it. My skepticism was gone. It was rather delicious and reminiscent of a Greek salad but about ten times more refreshing, especially because the watermelon was very cold. Something about the feta makes the melon juicier--perhaps because the salt of it draws the water out, right into your mouth. This is perhaps what Harold McGee would say.

I made this another time without the oil, using only watermelon, feta, and lime juice. It wasn't as good. Maybe you don't absolutely need the mint or parsley (although it would be nice if it's not too much of a bother--maybe even Greek basil), but I would say, you do need red onion or shallot, and a little bit of olive oil. I'm quite happy with this for a light lunch. Watermelon is supposed to be one of those foods that make you feel more full per calorie. I'd like to eat this for a late dinner too, especially to romanticize balmy summer nights when you just want to hang out on the porch and do nothing. But in all honesty, I don't have a porch. On those nights, I would just stay in and crank up the air conditioner. Those nights I sometimes disassociate myself so much from the outside environment, that I get a hankering for short ribs. But that would be wrong. This salad is not only tasty, it is more carbon neutral than short ribs. Try it. It'll make you feel good.