Beat the Heat Summer Supper
When the days are muggy and hot cool down with
this light and refreshing meal. Add a loaf of crusty fresh bread and a bottle
of chilled, crisp white wine to make dinner complete.
GAZPACHO - Cold Fresh Vegetable Soup
GAZPACHO - Cold Fresh Vegetable Soup
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1 large cucumber, peeled and chopped5 medium Roma/plum tomatoes, peeled and chopped
1 large onion, chopped
1 medium green pepper, seeded and chopped
1 tbsp. garlic, chopped fine or pressed
4 cups French or Italian bread chunks, crust removed
4 cups cold water
¼ cup red wine vinegar
2 tsps. salt
4 tbsps. olive oil
2 tbsp. tomato paste
Combine cucumber, tomatoes, onion, green pepper, garlic, and bread in a large bowl. Stir in water, vinegar, and salt. Ladle mixture into a blender or food processor. Be careful not to overload either appliance. Set on high speed until you have a smooth puree. Pour the blend into a clean large bowl and whisk in olive oil and tomato paste.
Cover the bowl and refrigerate for 2 hours minimum. Just before serving stir well to recombine ingredients. Ladle into a chilled tureen or large soup bowls.
May you enjoy all the days of your life filled with good friends, laughter, and seated around a well-laden table! -Sloane Taylor
The
following is an excerpt of multi-award-winning author Linda Lee Greene’s latest
novel A CHANCE AT THE MOON, one in which food also holds a central position.
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t first light, roused with the
rooster’s crowing, and despite tempting aromas from the kitchen, Koa decided to
forego breakfast and to head back to Las Vegas. His hand on Koa’s shoulder as
on the previous evening, Sam walked Koa to his car. Koa’s stomach sloshed with
nothing but two cups of Sam’s brackish stove-brewed coffee, strong and
gullet-scorching hot—no match for Koa’s own Hawai’i-grown Arabica.
“You
sure you don’t want to stay fer breakfast,” Sam asked his friend, hoping to
delay his departure, for Sam knew he would miss Koa after he was gone. “I still
got a mess of them spring onions you like so much in the root cellar, and mush
a settin’ up in the icebox. I could rustle up some cracklin’ cornbread and
scrambled eggs with them spring onions, and fry up some mush. Can’t beat that
kind of grub. Take no time.” Having failed to stir his friend’s interest, Sam
made an alternate suggestion. “Well then, how about just a slice of that
blackberry cobbler I baked this mornin’ before you was up?”
Placing
his bag in the trunk of the car, Koa replied, “Thanks, Sam. The onions and
cobbler are tempting, but I am in a hurry. There is a lady in the city I am
anxious to see, and onion breath will not do. You know how that is.”
“Can’t
say as I do. I never had the good fortune of gettin’ much experience with
women-folk, of the heart-thumpin’ kind.” The comment harkened to something Sam
had said to him one night out on his porch regarding his lack of a family of
his own. I always had me a dream of sittin’ out on my porch at sundown while
my chickens was a scratchin’ in the yard before goin’ to the henhouse to roost
and listenin’ to my kids a fussin’ in the house at bedtime. My little lady and
me, we’d sit side-by-side in our creakin’ rockin’ chairs while the mournin’
doves cooed in that old tree over yonder. Ain’t never happened thataway,
though. Ain’t never met the right filly to make that life with. At the
time, Sam’s sentiments had failed to make much of an impression on Koa, but
since meeting Olivia, his own lack of a family was beginning to occupy his
thoughts.
“It
is never too late, Old Friend. Why there are more beautiful women per capita in
Las Vegas than anyplace on earth, I imagine. I could introduce you to any number
of them. Why don’t you come on in to Vegas with me, Sam, and I will also take
you to that veteran’s clinic to get your knees checked out,” Koa implored his
friend, clamping Sam’s bony shoulder in his big hand. “You could stay in the
city with me for a few days. We could hoop it up some. I have a nice Jacuzzi in
my room at Caesars. A good long soak in that tub a couple of time a day would
be good for your knees, and maybe we would luck out and find you a lady who
would be good to your heart, among other things.”
“That’s
alright, Son. Bess’d die of mournin’ if I’d go away fer that long,” Sam
replied, bending down and patting Bess on her head as she scampered at the
men’s feet. “Go on now, Bess-honey,” Sam commanded his dog. Bess took off to a
far field to help Carl and the other dogs on the ranch round up Sam’s small
herd of goats for the morning’s milking. Unable to resist, the dog calculated
her route to coincide with an unsuspecting flock of chickens where they pecked
and scratched and gossiped among themselves in the yard. Coming abreast of the
hens, Bess barked and chased and nipped at their heels, setting the flustered
fowls awhirl, squawking and flapping their inept wings in their ineffectual
attempts to fly…
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