I Scream, You Scream

 Notwithstanding my posts about spring blossoms, the true first sign of the change of seasons is the reappearance of the neighborhood ice cream truck.  Every night around 6 pm, you can hear the sound of "Turkey in the Straw" coming from its speakers, quiet at first and then increasingly louder as it reaches my block.  

The usual truck sells novelties -- popsicles, ice cream sandwiches etc. -- but this one has upped the game by adding soft serve cones.  It also found a primo parking spot -- right outside the entrance to our neighborhood park which includes a playground, tennis and basketball courts, plus several baseball diamonds.  Come this summer, you'll find it there, right at 3 pm when day camp gets out.  Listen for the cries of children begging parents and babysitters for a treat!

The Holiday Table

As much as the hard core foodies seem to find nothing redeeming in American cooking, I'm always quick to rise to the defense of it. I grew up in a household where few processed products made it to the table and I've tried to do the same now that I'm making 80 percent of the meals in my own house. There's plenty of wonderful recipes in the American cookbook and even if you only make a passing nod to eating locally and seasonally, you won't be disappointed in the lush tomatoes, juicy blueberries, delicious corn, just for starters. Fried chicken, thick grilled steaks, Maine lobsters, what's not to love?

That being said, the food industry is still pushing plenty of crap, passing it off as either delicious or at least convenient. And even if you don't eat this stuff, you have to admit that it's good for a laugh. Take this recipe which appeared in the circulars that come with the Sunday paper:

And if you've recently gotten a clean bill of health from the cardiologist, perhaps you might be game for this:

As for me, I am off to the market with a list of ingredients for the chicken dish on the front cover of Dorie Greenspan's Around My French Table: everything fresh, everything readily available. Bon appetit!

7-11

I'm not a big junk food eater (well okay, I have my secret vices) but normally a Slurpee wouldn't entice me much, particularly one flavored "Alienade" and colored a shade of blue definitely not found in nature.  But on a day when the temperatures hit the high 90s with humidity to match and Slurpees were free for the asking, all bets were off.  Plus there was a 7-11 right on our way.

Truth be told, the heat was such that even if hadn't been the store's namesake day, I'd have bought them for my kids anyway.  What's more that "Alienade," a combo of blueberry, raspberry and lemonade, wasn't half bad.  Don't ask me about what it was made from.  I don't want to know.  One a year on the 11th of July surely can't hurt.