Make this coleslaw.

Along with a cold beer, this simple slaw will cool you down. I promise. Amber, who writes the lovely Worth My Salt, sent the recipe to me upon seeing this picture:

That's kohlrabi, and every summer I receive a few with my CSA share. A few weeks ago I got one, and before I even got around to doing anything with it, I got two more. This slaw was a great solution to my mounting kohlrabi problem. It took less than 10 minutes to make, required little effort (read: sweat), and was so darn refreshing. I ate the whole batch before I even thought to snap a picture!

Fresh coleslaw is a real treat on a hot day (or any day), as a snack or a side. I'll be making more later, just to have around, and when kohlrabi season ends, I'll revert to using traditional cabbage.

Kohlrabi coleslaw

Ingredients

2 kohlrabi, peeled
4 carrots, peeled
1 red onion, peeled
2 tablespoons apple cider vinegar
1 1/2 tablespoons mayonnaise
1 tablespoon sugar
Juice (or zest) of 1/4 lemon (optional)
Salt and pepper, to taste

Using a food processor (or mandolin, or your own little hands), shred kohlrabi, carrots and red onion.

Whisk together vinegar, mayonnaise, sugar and lemon juice.

In a large bowl, mix vegetables and dressing.

Salt and pepper to taste.

For maximum relief, chill before serving.

Serves 4.

Corn is a many-splendoured thing.

When I was in my early 20s, long before I fell for food, restaurants and entertaining to the point where I was utterly consumed by them, I dreamt up my first book of short stories, entitled (brilliantly, I thought) "Olives and Avocados." This must have been around the time I read "Like Water for Chocolate" because before reading that magical little novel I don't think I'd ever equated food and affection. Afterward, the two were so entwined it seemed only natural to name a collection of coming-of-age stories after my two favorite foods. Was I masterminding a dozen metaphors in terms of appetizers and condiments? Were the pits of these fruits symbolic of the pit young love had left in my stomach and heart?

Reflecting on those days, I feel a little foolish, a little nostalgic. But I also feel a little proud of my budding culinary instincts. Olives and avocados are still some of my favorites, and although I rarely enjoy the two together (I prefer avocados on my toast in the morning, and olives as a amuse-bouche at dinner), their connection back then instilled in me the importance of food pairings. Take, for instance, the almost prosaic PB & J. Good individually, yes; but together, stellar. The same has been said for eggs and toast, chips and salsa, and pie and coffee.

Then there are the more organic couplings: apples and cheddar, fennel and orange, strawberries and tomato, to name a few. I know for some they might not hold the same appeal as the combinations we grew up with, the ones we know and trust. And yet, when sampled, it's as if the sky opens -- and to steal imagery from Margaret Atwood's "They Eat Out" -- "a voice sings Love Is A Many / Splendoured Thing."

I swear that very tune was playing this afternoon when I gorged myself on a corn and cucumber salad I made from my weekly CSA share. So fresh and tender, unguarded and full of surprises, this salad had me swooning over the buttery, young corn kernels; the bright, refreshing cucumber bits; and the earthy and intense herbs, such as purple basil, cilantro, dill and Italian parsley. It's easy to make, no recipe is really required. Simply chop a handful of fresh herbs and one large cucumber (I like the skins and seeds, but you can feel free to remove them), and add the raw kernels of two medium stalks of corn. I also threw in a couple cherry tomatoes, a handful of raw almonds and one diced scallion for a little bite. Mix with this dressing, and eat with whole leaves of lettuce or as a side to some tacos or even a sandwich.

Dive in. Head over heels, no holds barred, your stomach on your sleeve. Don't share.

It was hot, we ate vegetarian.

I laugh at myself often for fronting a flippant attitude toward cooking and entertaining. While it's true I'm not a planner like, say, Martha Stewart, I'm not exactly a fly-by-the-seat-of-my-pants kind of girl (I wish I was, but I'm not). Last week, I didn't have much time to prepare for my dinner party in advance; I had a lot of time to think about it, though. I spent countless hours meditating on the menu, chatting with food friends about their favorite meals to serve, and perusing cookbooks and Web sites for inspiration. I had decided the meal would be vegetarian, since one of my guests is a devout one, and I wondered briefly whether my other guests would mind. I decided it was important to accommodate my vegetarian friend (to paraphrase another friend who's also a vegetarian: nothing's worse than going to a dinner party and having to eat a bunch of side dishes, like you were an after thought). Beyond that, though, I did nothing. On Saturday, I surveyed my weekly CSA share, and on Sunday, still undecided but feeling inspired (by the weather, by my produce, by my love for accessible, simple and -- dare I say? -- sexy foods), I asked myself a very important question: What sounds good?

Here's what I came up with:

Campari and soda, lime

Spicy olives courtesy of the Bedford Cheese Shop
Tortilla Española
Ombra NV Prosecco

Chilled cucumber and coconut purée, roasted beets
Broadbent NV Vinho Verde

Spaghetti with roasted summer squash, Parmigiano-Reggiano, lemon
Mixed greens
Italo Pietrantonj 2006 Montepulciano d'Abruzzo

Mast Bros. Chocolate

Part Italian, part Spanish, it was a Mediterranean feast! The only thing missing was a terrace. I'm still giving myself little back pats and smiling smugly; it was so nice. And easy. And good. And did I mention easy? Had I planned ahead, this meal would've taken 30 minutes to assemble. Instead, it took roughly two hours; not bad, considering.

When cooking multi-course meals such as this one, I like to prep (i.e. wash, chop, mince, slice, peel, deseed, etc.) everything I'll need to cook the meal before I start actually cooking. I find it makes the process so much easier, and it kind of makes me feel like I'm on the Food Network. Once that's done, I strategize, or map out the order in which I'll do what. Since the cucumber purée required several hours to chill, I started there, first sautéing some onions and garlic before pulling out the food processor to blend together the remaining ingredients. Once that was done and in the fridge (er, freezer), I tackled the tortilla -- a common Spanish tapas made of thinly-sliced potato and onion, cooked with egg, olive oil and salt. A tortilla is typically served at room temperature, so I let mine cool at the heart of the table while I set our places around it. Meanwhile, I had a handful of beets roasting in the oven (a foolproof way to roast vegetables quickly, I like to make a "hobo-pack." Fill parchment paper or foil with washed and trimmed vegetables, a drizzle of olive oil, salt and pepper. In roughly 40 minutes at 400 degrees*, beets will be tender with skins that easily rub away).

With the first two courses done, only the pasta remained, and that I saved until just before we sat to eat. Campari and soda in-hand, I set the water to boil, and while the pasta cooked for roughly 10 minutes, I halved and juiced a lemon, and tossed some already roasted summer squash and Parmigiano-Reggiano into a bowl. When the pasta was done, I quickly drained and tossed it into the bowl with a drizzle of olive oil. The heat from the pasta melted the cheese, lemon and oil into a bright but delicate sauce that allowed for the earthy flavor of the summer squash to shine. Surprisingly, it was the hit of the night, although I can't stop thinking about the chilled cucumber purée, so refreshing and simple. I think, along with this chocolate, it's my new summer staple.

Chilled cucumber and coconut purée with roasted beets
Adapted from Martha Stewart Living

Ingredients

4 medium cucumbers, peeled, seeded and sliced in 1/4" segments
5 small to medium-sized beets, roasted (see above)
2 medium onions, chopped
4 cloves garlic, minced
2 cups coconut yogurt (or 1 1/2 cups plain yogurt)
3/4 cup water
3 tablespoons of extra-virgin olive oil, plus more to finish
Juice of 1 lemon (if substituting plain yogurt, use the juice of 1/2 lemon)
1/2 cup fresh dill or parsley, chopped
Salt and pepper, to taste

Heat olive oil in a medium-sized skillet over medium heat, add onions, garlic, and a pinch of salt. Cook until onions are translucent, add 1/4 cup water. Cover and cook until soft (2 minutes). Let stand until cool.

In a food processor, combine onions, garlic and cucumbers. Process until smooth. Add coconut yogurt, another pinch of salt, and 1/2 cup water. Process until smooth.

Refrigerate mixture in a covered bowl for at least two hours.

Before serving, stir in dill or parsley and lemon juice. Salt and pepper, to taste.

Garnish with chilled, roasted beets and additional parsley.

Serves 6-8.

* Note: Cooking time is approximate and could vary depending on vegetable type.