two perfect summer recipes
2 hot 2 cook
It is officially 2 hot 2 cook in our house—maybe not in LA at large, but our apartment has a tiny air conditioner which is both loud and ineffective, so. Instead we open windows and adjust fans for maximum airflow, and during the hottest part of the day, we watch John le Carre adaptations. And at night, it’s the most perfect, unreal, beautiful temperature outside. One nice thing about California is the heat doesn’t stick for the most part—at some point in the evening, it gets blown away. But still, I’m not one to turn on an oven if I can help it, and sometimes even making a stir fry is too much.
So, here you go: Two hot-weather recipes, which also happen to be vegan, gluten free, and free of processed sugar, made many, many times by yours truly, and approved of far and wide.
marinated lentils
This is not really a recipe. It’s more of an idea: beans + vinaigrette + herbs + allium + veg. There you go! Guess what? It’s basically cowboy caviar. I like this particular version because mint + dill is a favorite combination, but I’ve made dozens of riffs on this salad based on what’s in the refrigerator. There’s really no way you’re going to go wrong here. This is a really nice thing to make every week so you have a capable salad ready to happen at any time.
2.5 c. steamed lentils
3 scallions
3 Persian cucumbers
1 lemon, juiced
1 bunch dill
1 bunch mint
olive oil, a generous amount
2 T apple cider vinegar
sea salt and cracked black pepper
Slice scallions into thin discs. Cut the Persian cukes into quarters lengthwise then slice thinly. If cooking lentils from scratch, like some kind of homesteading hero, go do that, and let them cool down.
Chiffonade mint and chop crosswise. Pluck tender dill fronts from the main stalk and chop roughly.
Put everything together in a large-enough bowl and cover with lemon juice, ACV, and olive oil. Toss. Season with salt and pepper and toss again. Adjust for acid and salt.
Serve on a bed of arugula, topped with diced apple. Or eat with pita chips.
notes
*I buy marinated lentils at Trader Joe’s in the produce section (you’ll find it near the cooked beets typically). To be completely real, I probably would never make this salad if I had to actually cook the lentils myself. We’re just not there yet! For a long time, I would refrain from making things with shortcuts and prepared vegetables because that’s not how the fanciest version of myself would do things. Anyway. Canned lentils would also work just fine here. As would overachiever lentils.
*Maldon salt is probably best for this. I thought Maldon salt was stupid until my friend R gave me an adorable travel tin of it, apologetically, because she knew I would be ruined for other salt. And I am.
*Go for a little tiny bit more salt than you think is correct. Lentils and beans can handle a lot of salt. Be generous with olive oil. Be really, really generous with the fresh herbs. Don’t think of them as a seasoning, think of them as a green element in the salad.
*Some other combos you might like: white beans + halved cherry tomatoes + red onion + flat parsley + red pepper flakes (olive oil, lemon, ACV, and salt remain the same in all versions). Fava beans + chiffonaded kale + chiffonade basil + shaved shallot. Maybe chickpeas + scapes + rosemary + black pepper + diced red and orange peppers? I’ve never done it, but I bet it won’t suck.
*You can also riff on the vinaigrette itself. A little maple syrup might be nice, or some mustard, mirin, tahini, or miso. Maybe less lemon juice and more ACV.
stone fruit + tahini
Again, not really a recipe. (I kind of gave it away in the title!) But I’m going to pretend it is, and you’re going to let me. I first started making this one summer when I was eating no bread, dairy, or processed sugar. The thing is, when you stop eating processed sugar, your relationship to fruits and sweet potatoes changes. Suddenly, these things are proper desserts, not virtuous dessert replacements. And when you miss sugar, you will try new combinations because you have nothing to lose.
A few years ago, my friend R (same one who introduced me to Maldon salt, see above) started having ongoing dinners at her house every Wednesday night. We would typically quadruple some crowd-pleasing NYT recipe, and there was almost always a cake afterwards which R had made to celebrate various attendees birthdays and milestones. I started bringing a big bowl of stone fruit with tahini because I was still eating no processed sugar at the time, and I don’t like missing out on dessert.
2 nicely ripe peaches or plums
4 fresh medjool dates
2 T. plain tahini (or more)
pinch sea salt
substantial dusting of ground cinnamon
Remove pit and slice stone fruits into wedges.
Remove pit from dates and slice into slivers lengthwise.
Compose stone fruits and date slivers in a bowl and drizzle generously with tahini.
Dust heavily with cinnamon. (Think “boff boff boff” instead of “sprinkle sprinkle.”)
Top with crunchy sea salt.
notes
*Again, this is a very riff-ready recipe. I like it with stone fruits, but I’ve made it with apples, blueberries, and pears. I haven’t tried it with citrus yet, and I’m not quite sure how it would translate, but it could work. (Let me know if you try it!)
*The amount of cinnamon has to be … almost a bit too much. Ha. Writing these two recipes out makes me realize that a lot of my cooking ideas start from the idea, “what if I added too much of X to this?”
*Black tahini would probably be amazing. I’ve never tried it, but I bet it would be great on plums. I suppose you could make this with almond butter or peanut butter, although I never have. Tahini works nicely because it’s so drizzly. If you were to riff with that aspect, I would suggest using a more liquid nut butter or somehow thinning it.
*Crushed pink salt is a suitable substitution, as is a bit of kosher salt. This is not a dish for iodized salt. It just won’t be right.
*I think this should be eaten with your fingers, even if you are at a dinner party.
So, there you have it! Two vegan recipes which are also gluten-free and have no processed sugars. They are easy, there is no oven involved, and you can absolutely bring either one to a potluck and be acknowledged favorably.
Now that we’ve done all that, some updates: My book is out on submission, and it’s a lot of waiting. And I don’t have anything else to say about it right now! J and I are back to watching the Tour de France over coffee, something we did in 2020. Sadly, my favorite rider Ricardo Carapaz (the Ecuadorean Eagle!) is out after a crash in the first stage, so I’m not sure who I’m going to cheer for—maybe the Yates twins? Maybe Phil Bauhaus? Or perhaps one of the Wouts? It’s been eventful, generally. My parents visited us recently, and it felt like a significant step toward this California life feeling like it’s happening. I mean, it obviously is happening, but it still has a significant wash of unreality to it. (Does it become home when you show it off to other people? I don’t know.) Our beloved cat Falkor had a stint in the hospital but is now recuperating at home. He had some kind of infection which exacerbated his tender guts, and the guy is 18, so these things can throw him for a loop. So we’re in a high monitoring state of every part of his digestive apparatus. I have never been so happy, for instance, to see a turd. Speaking of bodily humors, a lot of our AirBnb guests have been leaving blood stains on the bedding. I have no idea why, but it drives me nuts! and I have been Going Out at Night again—first karaoke, and then dancing. I danced for three hours straight, and screamed along to “Since You’ve Been Gone” with 22-year-olds. I’m taking a ceramics class starting on Friday—something I have never done, but feel drawn to in spite of its utterly textbook millennial-ass nature. We saw Elvis Costello at the Greek, and will see Neil Young there next week. Something about life has cracked open. It’s been a year in California for me, and I wonder if some of the feelings of stasis from the last year were really just the wallflower nature of the first year in a new place. Every time I moved for grad school, I spent the first semester consumed with social anxiety. “What’s wrong with me?” I would think. And then, a few months in, that darkness would dissolve. And it has.