Everybody said it was perfect here. For the first two months of my North County residence, I didn’t believe them. Gloomy mornings and evenings spent wearing long sleeves were evidence of the coldest summer since 1916, a nice little fact Mark heard one day on the radio. I couldn’t help but wonder if it was me. When I moved to D.C. last winter, they got slammed with Snowpocalypse, the worst triple-whammy of winter weather since who knows when. (How did I deal? I made stuffed eggplants.)
Of course it’s selfish to think that weather patterns revolve around my wayfaring ways. Of course they don’t. But after two months of patiently waiting out “June gloom,” California had really started to let me down.
And then came August, sweet August with its clear skies and stone fruit and newly-minted sun. Suddenly everyone who’d claimed how perfect it was here changed their tune: “September and October are the best months,” they’d say. “This is our winter,” they’d assure me, as I inquired about buying a bike trainer for the winter months. Despite a bad track record, the optimist in me must believe them.
August brought so many good things: a trip to Boulder for my first magazine cover photo shoot (not me, mind you, that would be a milestone worth its own post!), my first aquathon (and many other great San Diego Triathlon Club events), and the much-anticipated parental visit. There was body-boarding with cousins visiting from Vancouver and lounging on the beach with books. With the parents there was a trip to the Wild Animal Park and Stone Brewery, a Del Mar reggae concert, good food and conversation. It was also the month our first pet joined our household of two: a seal-point Snowshoe we haven’t yet named! (Click here for a photo.)
My favorite part about this weather, quickly showing its true colors, is eating outdoors. Until I can afford the restaurants that overlook the ocean and until we have a patio or yard on which to dine, I’ll have to settle for beach picnics, the little deck at the office, and friends with benefits (ie: backyard dining rooms!) Two of those friends are our neighbors, Rob and Barbara, a lovely couple we became acquainted with through my Aunt Evelyn. From the first night we spent with them, drinking wine and eating pizza, they’ve been a significant part of our San Diego socialization process.
On Sunday they invited us over to their funky Leucadia home once more for a potluck with a few other couples. While the guests deliberated over beer, margaritas, or wine in the kitchen, Rob ushered everyone outside to enjoy the still-warm evening. (My kind of host—”get outside everyone, go enjoy it!”)
Charged with appetizers and a dessert, I decided on two recipe-less offerings. The first was fresh spring rolls, made with ingredients procured on Friday at an Asian market Mark had expertly tracked down while I was out covering a triathlon event. The second, simple roasted peaches with local honey, ricotta cheese, and toasted walnuts.
The idea for the peaches came from something similar we’d made for our parents two Christmases ago—Roasted Pears with Ricotta and Honey, from the January 2009 Bon Appetit. That was a slightly more involved version of roasted fruit, requiring that you strain ricotta and crush fennel seeds. I didn’t have time for either, so I stopped at the Leucadia farmer’s market down the street to see if I could come up with a simplified version (hence the “101” in the title … the market takes place just off highway 101, the same road that runs right by our apartment). I bought a few ripe local peaches, and a large jar of local wildflower honey from Deborah, my new friend at Sunflower Organics. (She mixes up a magical offering of honeys, including cinnamon- and Christmas-berry-spiked varieties, some with added bee pollen. Check it out.)
I cut the large peaches in thirds (you could also do halves for a larger portion), and placed them cut side up in a 400 degree oven. (See photos above). I put a little pat of butter on each one, and sprinkled the whole lot with about 2 tablespoons of sugar. I baked them until they looked done, about half an hour. While they baked, I mixed ricotta cheese (probably not local, unfortunately, as it was from Trader Joe’s!) with some cinnamon. To serve, I simply re-heated the peaches in the microwave, and each person got a portion topped with cinnamon-ricotta, drizzled honey, and chopped and toasted walnuts.
Aside from burning two pans of walnuts due to cat-induced distraction, it was a quick summer dessert that wasn’t too heavy or syrupy sweet. I probably should have made more, as I was the only person who brought dessert, but this would be perfect for a potluck or multi-course dinner party where you just want a little something to cleanse sharper flavors from your palate.
There were loads of other delicious items, like Rob’s sweet onion pie, stuffed zucchini, grilled salmon, roasted cauliflower, and Caprese salad. The best part, though, was the company: people who could talk travel, coffee roasting, wine, and William Carlos Williams. People from all walks of life and various parts of the country who’ve come to land here, a place that, as I’m starting to see, will only become more perfect the more I time I give it.
And of course, it’s the little things that will continue to make it so: love, food, friends, bikes, waves, coffee, sun, health, employment, and gratitude for all of it.