How I stopped worrying and EMBRACED THE STICKY
not a summer hater no more, full of ice cream
Dear friends,
Hello from high Tennessee summer. After several busy months, life has slowed, the heat has settled in, and I’m posted up on the screen porch—at least until I succumb to torpor, or am otherwise driven inside by the whining rev of a leafblower or snarl of weedeater or steady growl of lawnmower.
It’s not that I don’t appreciate the necessity of such noisy upkeep. (I do think leafblowers are the devil’s plaything, but that’s another discussion.) We’ve had a lot of rain. You can practically watch the growth happening in real time.
Summer is my least favorite season, one I must make an effort to enjoy. This morning, I took a “Create & Calm” class with Melissa Jean, who is with me in the summer-affective-disorder camp, and we talked about how we’re both doing our best to lean in, and how, after all, as with most things one is averse to, it’s more the story you tell yourself about the thing than the thing itself. Maybe summer isn’t so bad; maybe, in fact, it’s as precious and fleeting as any season, with its rolling thunderstorms, its abundant greenness, its berries and herbs, its occasional stretches of slow living. And it must be said: I’m grateful to be beyond the stage of hauling a school-aged child from camp to camp for two months. Friends with young children: you, too, will arrive here.
I’m trying to make peace with my sweat-tacky skin. Maybe I can simply decide that it’s not uncomfortable. (I can also shower more, sure.) I am doing a fair job of avoiding any situation that requires one to “dress up,” to look “put together” or “pretty” or “business-casual.” I want only bare arms and soft elastic waistbands—a pair of raggedy striped shorts from five summers ago is my go-to. Hair in braids or piled high.
I’ve been living on mini ice-cream sandwiches. They are the perfect size: eat one for an ideal small treat; eat two for a filling snack (or let’s be honest and call it lunch). Are regular-size ice cream sandwiches even a thing anymore? I haven’t seen them, and I’m not complaining; mini-ness is an advance in frozen novelties as far as I’m concerned. There’s the cuteness factor; no melting before you’re done; and the option, as noted above, to keep your treat really petite.
I’m on my third box. First it was Mayfield Farms, then Kroger brand, and now Blue Bell, which is arguably the “best,” as the cookies have a deeper, tangier chocolate flavor and are less likely to stick to the wrapper. But I think I prefer the less complex taste and slightly softer texture of the Mayfield and Kroger sandwiches for their bottomless nostalgia. They transport me to a time before I knew the word “artisanal,” before I had a notion that anyone might rank or try to “elevate” something like ice-cream sandwiches.
At the beginning of this week, I realized that late July was nearly upon us and I had not eaten one single peach. RUDE! I set out for the farmer’s market, grabbed two bags of peaches and a passel of Pink Girl tomatoes, and announced to my husband that we’d be summer-fooding all week long, hard. And summer-food hard we have! First, a tomato pie. Big hit. (We—I mean Todd—used this recipe.)
Second, a delectable peach salad. I’d come across the recipe on this very platform; thank you, Emily Nunn (but oh no! It has now been paywalled1!). Out of necessity we swapped the barley for farro and the hazelnuts for almonds.
This salad is an absolute keeper. Todd grumbled that, once again, I had found a recipe and then tasked him with the execution—but guys, this is how we do. I art direct, he executes. That’s the MO. But ok finnnne, next time I’ll make the dang salad.
I did step up to make the third summer food: a peach crisp, Yossi Arefi’s recipe. I already wasn’t looking forward to slicing up eight peaches for my crisp (see: torpor), and then I saw that the recipe called for peeled peaches, though skin-on would be acceptable, just with more rustic results. I thought, Oh hell no, I’m not peeling those peaches. Rustic all the way. But you know what? I picked up my paring knife and decided to try peeling the first peach out of curiosity, just to see how it went. I had done this before, after all, long ago. I could picture my mother showing me how. (I could picture me doing it, and failing to do it as well as she did.)
I surprised myself. I committed to the task of peeling those peaches. I gave myself over—for like seven whole minutes, maybe??—to peeling those peaches as well as I could. And yes, I enjoyed it. And yes, this is a mindfulness object lesson.
The fridge-chilled fruit was cool in my left hand, its juices running through my fingers, while the knife in my right hand delicately followed the curve of the peach and revealed its shining flesh. I popped several fiber-rich skins into my mouth along the way. Then I used my fingers to mash slices of butter into a bowlful of flour and sugar and oats, creating crumble.
Tonight, we’ll have warm peach crisp with vanilla ice cream, after a main course of grilled chicken and corn. And I’m going to brew Southern Summer Sumac Tea, if I can find it. (Thundermoon Collective, I hope you come through!)
What summer foods are delighting you these long, hot days? How are you seeking relief from leaning into the heat?
SONGS FTW!
I mentioned Any River, the new Styrofoam Winos LP, a few weeks ago. The album has been getting great press, and I love to see it. The song “Next Thing” has been an ear-worm of late, and it strikes me as a summery one, a laid-back dispatch from a character’s real life.
Got my van refinanced
Got the window tint removed
No next thing but singing them songs that feel pretty good to do
My van, my rules
No foolin’ with the queue
Also been enjoying super-chill tunes from Jake Xerxes Fussell. The album is called Good and Green Again, and if that ain’t a summer-friendly title I don’t know what is. (He’s got a new record, Rock Island Line, coming out Sept.18.) Try this one:
My rock ‘n’ roll/prodigal daughter/spiritual/literal homecoming novel, THE COME APART, is out now from TriQuarterly Books.
become a paid subscriber and I’ll send it to you! ;)
Love the Winos and a huge fan of Jake X. Fussell too. May I recommend his version of Have You Ever See Peaches Growing on a Sweet Potato Vine from What in the Natural World.
The peach edition!