Dust Off the Grill, Summer’s Here
By Michael Safdiah

Welcome home! Isn’t it great to be back on the island? Miraculously, despite a Nor’easter, my beloved old house is still standing, its paint clinging desperately to the weathered walls. I started a dirt garden last year by making a bed from discarded lumber and filled it with potting soil. We had fresh basil and tomatoes all summer long. My cucumbers became salads with dried mint, olive oil and Greek-style yogurt that I brewed. My zucchini bore only five pieces. so did the eggplants, but I was up to my kazoo in zucchini blossoms. I made pasta, battered, fried and stuffed ‘em with cheese, and put them in salads. By the way, you’re only supposed to cook the male flowers. The females have baby zucchinis at their base.

Karl, my plant guru at Bayport Flowers, said the plants need pollinators. There are only mosquitoes here on Fire Island, and butterflies can’t fit into the blossoms. He had an idea: do the pollinating with a tiny paint brush or a Q-tip.

So I had to learn what to do with zucchini blossoms; I made frittata, but that’s a future article. I learned about Latino cooking—it’s a great cuisine. You’ll read about sofrito, yellow rice with chicken and using chilies. I had a chicken soup (Caldo Tlalpeno) in Mexico made with Chipotles and lime juice; I’ll detail it so you can try it. I’ve been discovering simple ways of smoking and grilling, so if you have a barbeque, clean it and get ready: we’re going to do some incredible spare ribs. Guess what? Wood smoking is easy.

There is no better time than now to get your kitchen in order. Check your fire extinguisher; make sure it’s fully charged. Throw out those old dry herbs (they’re useless—no better than sawdust), check any cooking oil left over from last year. If it smells ‘funny’, toss it out before you spoil something wonderful. Brush off your BBQ grill with vinegar and a metal brush, and please plant a small herb garden; window boxes and pots do fine. Window boxes with thyme, mint, basil, sage, and tarragon grow perfectly here. Bay leaves grow wild on the island in abundance. Harvest a handful during your next walk. Crumble the leaves—the aroma will thrill you.

The bay has loads of free clams, and I’m thinking pasta. LINGUINE WITH WHITE CLAM SAUCE is a perfect chill chaser for the spring season. You can substitute any thin pasta. Scrub three dozen little necks, soak for a few hours in slightly salted water with some flour to clean them.

Bring the following ingredients to a hard boil: a cup of dry white wine, a cup of chicken broth, a bay leaf, half a chopped red onion, a smashed clove of garlic, fresh parsley, pinch black pepper, a sprig of thyme, no salt. Add the rinsed clams and cover. Steam them just until they open, discarding any that don’t. Lift out the clams and set aside in a bowl. Coarsely chop them. Decant the broth so the sediment remains in the pot; you only want the broth. NEXT: In your big skillet, a few tablespoons of extra virgin olive oil, gently sauté a few minced cloves of garlic, a pinch of crushed red pepper flakes. Add the clam broth, a pinch of crushed oregano, and reduce. A few tablespoons of heavy cream are optional, but I leave it out. Do add a squeeze of fresh lemon juice. Reduce the liquids. Remember to hold aside a half cup of the pasta water in case the pasta becomes too thick. Lower the fire; stir the pasta so it absorbs the flavors of the sauce, Finally, when the sauce coats the pasta, add the clams, and a big pinch of chopped flat parsley. Cook one scant minute only and serve at once. If you use grated cheese, you will horrify the purists (Do you care?). I saw Emeril dice a chorizo sausage and fry it with the garlic. It sounded delicious; the Portuguese often use seafood with pork sausage, with mouth-watering results. I tried it. You should too.

Jackie Pausewang (Peacock Farm Stand in Sayville) said she’ll soon have local asparagus. They’re so good, you only need to do ‘em plain, which to me means: The bottoms snap off at the right place. Just peel and blanch them in salted water if they are thick, drain while only half cooked, set them aside; the cooking will continue. In a wide skillet heat some olive oil, sliced garlic and some red pepper flakes to your taste. Don’t let the garlic brown. Set the spears into the oil, and turn to coat each spear. Sprinkle sea salt, a pinch of pepper and grated parmesan. Gently grill them over a barbecue until there is a hint of brown on the stalks, or serve as is. If the stalks are very thin skip the peeling and the blanching. Okay, so maybe they aren’t plain, but try them. If you like to dress them up, grill sparingly, then dribble on: MUSTARD SOY DRESSING: a spoon of French mustard, one egg yolk, lemon juice, soy sauce, red vinegar and canola oil. Whisk.

Jackie shares a recipe for ASPARAGUS TART: Start with a pound of peeled medium asparagus, cut the tops around an inch and a half in length, cut the stalks in inch long pieces. Boil in salted water for only a few minutes, and immediately plunge into cold water. Drain dry. Beat 4 eggs with 3/4 cup half and half, a pinch of nutmeg, and one of cayenne, salt to taste, with a half-pound shredded gruyere (Swiss) cheese. Place the stem pieces into an unbaked pie shell. Add the egg mixture, top with another half pound of grated gruyere, and finally arrange the asparagus tops artfully. Bake at 375 degrees until the eggs are set and the crust is golden. Don’t slice it for half an hour to allow it to set.

There is no such thing any longer as “ordinary salt,” throw away that round box you have. I use kosher (coarse) salt just like Julia Child taught me. That way, a pinch is a pinch. Gustiamo.com sent me some unrefined sea salt from Trepano, Sicily. They fill salt pans with sea water in the spring; the Mediterranean sun evaporates it all summer. Who would think salt would taste this great? It has flavor nuances you need to experience. Treat yourself to a salt grinder. The sea salt, that’s for your table.

The Fire Island cook is a survival-oriented one, unique in today’s New York society. We need to make the most of the opportunity we have here. As close to nature as we are, we’re both lucky and challenged. Learn what things the island has to offer us, and incorporate them into what you eat.

I want to hear what you want me to write about. Please email me at mymymichl@aol.com. Thanks so much for joining me. Love, Michael