August Entertaining

Most people I know take August as permission to break up with their kitchens. It is hot. Everyone is vaguely elsewhere, even when technically still in town. Turning on the oven feels less like cooking and more like a poor personal decision.

Then there are the people with outdoor grills.

Good for them.

My fire escape does not allow for this particular expression of summer abundance. The co-op rules have opinions on the matter and I suspect the Brooklyn Fire Department would frown upon it as well. So until I acquire a backyard, I am going to continue cooking indoors. I am also going to continue having people over.

The trick, I have decided, is economies of scale.

Sorry. It sounds like something from a quarterly earnings call, but stay with me.

August entertaining requires strategy. I don't want to make seven things every time someone comes for dinner, but I also don't want every dinner to feel like a rerun. The answer is to make a few very useful things and put them to work.

This is not leftovers. Leftovers are something in Tupperware you keep moving around the refrigerator while pretending you are definitely going to eat it.

First there was Crème Fraîche Gelato, from a recipe by pastry chef Meredith Kurtzman. Once I made it, I knew it would have to earn its keep for more than one dinner. Fortunately, it has enough tang to keep dessert from becoming cloying and enough richness to make almost anything underneath or on top of it seem intentional.

I also had strawberries, blueberries and raspberries left from decorating a cake. They were approaching the point where berries stop being an ingredient and become a responsibility, so into a pot they went, becoming something between a jam and a compote.

Spoon it over gelato. Put it on cake. Eat it with yogurt. Stand in front of the refrigerator and eat it from the jar.

Then there was Parsley Salsa Verde, based on the version from Gjelina, because a girl has to riff. The original brings together Italian flat-leaf parsley, capers and a whole supporting cast of other ingredients. My riff is to substitute chopped traditional, briny anchovies for their white anchovy cousins, which bring their own delicate, slightly acidic note without taking over. It is the sort of sharp, green sauce that makes roasted or broiled meat taste as though someone thoroughly respects it.

Alongside a batch of homemade maple-spiked Vinaigrette, I suddenly had the infrastructure for several dinners.

One included a bright green salad with Vinaigrette, my Pasta Facile, a pantry-friendly pasta with tinned mackerel and toasted pine nuts, followed by Crème Fraîche Gelato with Berry Compote and crushed amaretti cookies. Cold, creamy, tart, crunchy and, importantly, mostly already made.

A Monday dinner for four was a little more ambitious, though not necessarily more work. We started with Salmon Crudo, scattered with pistachios and snipped chives, dressed simply with a little orange juice, very good olive oil, and Maldon sea salt. There was also a baguette from Ferrane Bakery with softened salted butter from Normandy, because some things require absolutely no improvement beyond remembering to take the butter out of the refrigerator.

Then came broiled Lamb Shoulder Chops with the Parsley Salsa Verde and Bitter Lettuces in Vinaigrette (see above). Dessert was a Blueberry Crisp I had baked that afternoon, served at room temperature with a scoop of Crème Fraîche Gelato. Freshly baked does not have to mean warm, particularly in August.

This is where economies of scale start to feel less like efficiency and more like having somehow gotten away with something.

Later in the week, the Bitter Lettuces were finished off with the addition of dried cherries and a splash of Vinaigrette. Then the Parsley Salsa Verde appeared again with chicken thighs that had been dry-brined for more than 24 hours and roasted until properly crisp. Alongside was a baked potato, half for each of us, with more of that Normandy salted butter and a shower of snipped chives. Yes, the same chives that had appeared on the Salmon Crudo. The Bitter Lettuces and Parsley Salsa Verde had already made return engagements. At this point even the garnish was working a second shift. The Vinaigrette was on triple play.

Same lettuces, same vinaigrette, same sauce, same butter, same chives. Completely different dinner.

That is the distinction. Economies of scale do not mean economies of flavor. The point isn't repetition. It is giving yourself a head start.

There is something deeply satisfying about opening the refrigerator at 6pm and discovering your past self has already done something useful. She made the sauce. She cooked the berries. She made the gelato. She bought the good butter. Frankly, she seems extremely organized - not to mention gorgeous.

This is how I want to do August. Make the thing that can become three things. Make enough salsa verde. Save the berries. Make the gelato. Buy the good butter. Snip the chives. Dry-brine the chicken today so tomorrow's dinner is halfway there.

Then invite people over.

Next summer, of course, it would be lovely to have a backyard and a barbecue.

So, who is volunteering their space for an extremely organized and gorgeous gal?