Introducing: A Summer Dining Series
A collaboration between Abby Sandler and Emily Wilson.
“And all that day, and overnight, Francoise, rejoicing in the opportunity to devote herself to that art of the kitchen,—of which she was indeed a past-master, stimulated, moreover, by the prospect of having a new guest to feed, the consciousness that she would have to compose, by methods known to her alone, a dish of beef in jelly,—had been living in the effervescence of creation; since she attached the utmost importance to the intrinsic quality of the materials which were to enter into the fabric of her work, she had gone herself to the Halles to procure the best cuts of rump-steak, shin of beef, calves’-feet, as Michelangelo passed eight months in the mountains of Carrara choosing the most perfect blocks of marble for the monument of Julius II—”
-Marcel Proust, In Search of Lost Time Volume II: Within a Budding Grove
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The one thing I find myself missing most about Los Angeles, aside from the fruit trees, farmers market, dry heat, better food, my old job, and 3 annual beach days, is my dinner parties. As a huge proponent of dinner parties at large, there is something special about a summer dinner party. Maybe it’s the social jenga one is forced to play in constructing the guest list, determining who is in town and who is in Hydra (or Marseille). Or perhaps it’s the opportunity to take advantage of the farmers market at peak season. It might even be the carefree delirium that sets in with the heat, which, for me, clocked in yesterday, as this very well-traveled canicule has finally reached New York City. Whatever it is, probably a combination of all of the above, there is just nothing like entertaining in summer.
To honor the season that brings with it all the best ingredients and convivial imbibing en plein air, my dear friend Emily Wilson, author of the bicoastal food and restaurant newsletter, The Angel, and I decided to embark on a collaboration that only seemed fit: a summer dining series. Together, over the next several weeks, we’ll bring you various meals to be enjoyed en masse, providing not only menus, but all the things you’ll need to serve them (to our standards, at least). I’ll let Emily lead you through the program, and I’ll follow with the service. Without further ado, we bring you not your average 4th of July barbecue.
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July 4th typically calls for American food, right? But when you add a little of this from here and that from there, the possibilities for deliciousness multiply. So, while this menu remains American in spirit, it is less so in practice. (America is a melting pot, after all.) It features some of my most coveted pantry items to help you level up on flavor. Source well (forever the key to good cooking), serve beautifully, and it’ll be a hit.
Mint lemonade, spiked or as-is
To make lemonade, as sweet or as tangy as you like, you need lots of lemons, a juicer (or a few generous helpers), simple syrup, and plenty of fresh mint. Plus two pitchers—one NA, one spiked with Distillerie Patrick St. Surin‘s Clairin Milot Rum, a small-batch Haitian rum introduced to me by my friend Reilly Cox (of Psychic Wines and Café Triste). It’s beautiful and nuanced, with bright tropical notes—sipping it straight is like drinking a stunningly balanced daiquiri.
Farmers’ market crudité + good anchovies with salted butter and fresh bread
Go to the market and grab whatever crudité-appropriate veg looks best—radishes, celery (baby if they have it), cucumbers—and serve drizzled with a grassy olive oil, flaky salt, and plum-cured sesame seeds from SOS Chefs. Also, source really good anchovies (I like these), salted butter (ahem), and fresh whole-grain bread (you want a dose of earthy, wheaty flavor here), and make anchovy-butter toasts.
Ribs, grilled or smoked
I like all kinds of ribs, but I love them most with a bit of Asian influence, whether that’s a gochujang glaze or Japanese barbecue sauce. The only rule: they must, must, must be finished on the grill—or even better, smoked all the way, if you’ve got the setup. Otherwise, there’s no point (sorry, 100% oven-baked is sad to me). I’m a fan of Alison Roman’s tangy, spicy grilled ribs and plan to try them with rice vinegar in place of white distilled.
Herby potato salad + a big green salad
Boil a bunch of small potatoes in well-salted water until tender, then toss in Kewpie, vinegar, whole-grain mustard, finely chopped celery and herbs (I like a combo of dill, tarragon, celery leaves, and chives; lovage is nice here, too), salt, and pepper. Taste and adjust ratios to your liking. The other simple side I’ll suggest is a big green salad of the freshest market greens in a variety of textures, dressed simply with lemon and good olive oil.
Easy pickles
Pickles add lightness and acidity to a barbecue meal, and the bonus is that you can use the same gorgeous vegetables you bought for crudité. Just wash, cut into sticks, and marinate in this wondrous Japanese pickling vinegar all day, or better yet, overnight. If you can’t get a bottle in time, make your own by dissolving 1 cup of sugar and 2 teaspoons of salt in 2 cups rice vinegar over medium heat.
Cherry pie with cherry pit ice cream (if you’re extra like me)
Pie can be daunting, but I promise that this Stella Parks recipe (including her old-fashioned flaky pie dough) is unintimidating and produces flawless results. You’ll need a cherry pitter, and I recommend using a mix of sweet and sour cherries. If you’re extra like me, pit your cherries a couple of days in advance, then use the pits to make ice cream—a pairing more heavenly than store-bought vanilla bean. If you need a recipe, DM me.
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Personally, I don’t think a barbecue is the time to show off all your favorite glassware and refined tableware. It calls for something friendlier. So you’ll notice that I’ve leaned heavily into ceramics for this, particularly ones that retain a bit of human touch. The pitcher is my only exception, and I will explain why!
For any batched cocktail, a good pitcher is imperative. For a beautiful spiked summer lemonade, I am going to go with something glass—weight and transparency are key here. If you’re me, you want to be able to see what you’re being served, and you also don’t want to drop it. This Tuttoattaccato ribbed pitcher checks all the boxes for me. Not too boring, just enough texture, but also slim and elegant.
For anchovy toast, I am offering two approaches. If you are serving them pre-made then I recommend putting them on a beautiful Gustave Reynaud for Le Murier tray. If it’s a build your own situation, then I recommend this very sweet Azur Patagonia butter dish to house your perfectly salted French (I hope) butter, and anchovies can be picked up with one of these adorably Aldo Rossi-like cocktail picks. I like that you can take your anchovy and put the pick back in the little cup. Bread can be left on a beautiful walnut butcher block. Hard to fuck that one up. I’ll let you find one that speaks to you.
Part of me just feels like every potato salad should be served in a Heath serving bowl. It all just feels so appropriately…of the earth. I also think the herbs will really POP against the yellow, but if you think I am insane, don’t worry, there are 8 other colors. As for the leafy greens—those belong in a big wooden bowl, just like this one.
For the ribs, well, I came across this gorgeous ivory glazed platter from Nalata Nalata, and now I really can’t imagine serving ribs on anything else, not that I have ever even served ribs at all.
For pickles I like the idea of splitting them up, perhaps into a couple of these Hana Karim bowls. I think all her glazes are exquisite, though I am partial to her blues. Makes you want to buy at least 6.
For the pie, make it all about the pie. Throw it on some white plates and let the cherry cause a scene.
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