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The Spirit of Summer
by camilleIt’s a Saturday afternoon in mid- July, and our farm is overflowing with life.
After each trip to the garden we come down the hill bearing armloads of
cucumbers, squash, and tomatoes. We’re now also harvesting peppers,
eggplants, onions, green beans, and chard. In a few hours some friends will
be coming over for supper, so my mom and I study our pile of fresh vegeta-
bles and begin to prepare. We’ll start by making the cucumber soup, which
will be served first and needs time to chill. Fourteen small cucumbers go
into the blender, one after the other, transformed into bright green, puréed
freshness as they meet the whirling blades. Then we stir in the skim- milk
yogurt we made yesterday. Finally, we add fresh herbs to the cool, light
mixture and wedge the bowl into the refrigerator between gigantic bags of
Now it’s time for the bread baking. This is the
hold, so Steven gets out his various bags of flour and begins to work his
magic. A cup of this and a tablespoon of that fly into the mixer until
satisfied. Then the machine’s bread hook folds it all together and
rise. Later our friends arrive, and Nancy, a true bread artisan, works with
Steven to roll out and shape some plump baguettes. Outdoors, a fire has
been crackling for hours in the big stone bread oven we built this spring.
Nancy has been eager to come over and help try it out. She and Steven set
the baguettes on floured pans and slide them into the oven, which has been
cleared of coals. The temperature inside is nearly 700 degrees.
Meanwhile Mom and I are working on dessert: cherry sorbet. We
picked the cherries from the tree that shades our front porch, teasing us by
bearing the most fruit on its highest branches. Every summer Steven and I
we’ve set into the back of the pickup truck strategically
parked under the tree, while Mom says “Stop! Be careful!” and then finally
climbs up there with us. Even so, bushels of shiny, black cherries still stay