(Caesar) Salad Days
summer makes its final encore –
and all the plans that might have been become half-baked realities stuffed into weekends and evenings as the days get shorter. You notice the sun wasn't in the same place as it was the week before at this exact time. You notice your eyes wandering towards fall-coloured fruit. Desperate to hold onto the last days of summer, we squeeze out adventure like the last of the tomato paste, folded to the lid.
The soundtrack? Local Natives, The Brian Jonestown Massacre, New Order, Wilco, Twin Peaks, Mac DeMarco, JJ Cale. Anything that reminds you of hot tarmac and cold water; passenger seat beers and salad sandwiches; park hangs and coastal retreats.
Everything is a whirlwind at the end of summer. It all begins with us leaning into those lazy days. Endless, still, quiet. The rope swing by a creek. Cooking outside at dusk and not finishing until the sun rises. Doorstep drinks at a distance. Day drinking. The afternoon lull.
As it draws to a close, we become more frantic in our search for everything summer gives us: a chance to forget, to escape, to strip off and lay ourselves bare. New friends, new lovers. new feelings, new tastes, new sensations, new rituals, new everything. The final countdown. In a year where it feels like there's only everything to lose.
Things happen quick but somehow the weeks go slow. We look forward. Itching to get to the next season yet also keeping one foot in the door of summer, leaving it ajar just to let the light in. Caught between novelty and nostalgia, what might have been and what could be soon. Day-dreaming replaces day drinking (for some). We imagine new lives. We shed old habits.
Certain images flicker in our brain when we think of our summer. We'll play them like an old film on the projector, the whir of our imaginations, the click of each slide. Everything appears hazy. As if we dreamed it all up. Our salad days will get roasted. Rosé turns to red. The heady smell of smoke from the fire will be inside, not out. But we'll always remembers the last of it.
Here's to holding on – but also letting go,
Cat x
All Hail Caesar.
Not sure about you, but I'm basically part potato now, after a few weeks of outdoor cooking (what's better than a hot potato dripping with cold butter and salt?), barbecues and coastal trips. I'm also part sausage, too – ten in 48 hours feels a little excessive.
And while I'm not one to advocate for eating less of what makes you happy (potatoes and sausages for me pls), I did feel like I needed some green in my life today, and although my kitchen looks like someone tipped out the entire contents of their fridge and hazarded a guess as to what to make (guilty), I managed to create a someone spectacular dish. Only downside is that I spilt half of it on my brand new leather sofa. Serves me right for bragging.
If you know, you know I love a caesar salad almost as much as I love sausage and mash. And for some strange reason, I REALLY love kale in a caesar salad – not for any health implications, but mainly because I like the crunch and the way the curly bits catch the dressing. Now that I'm having a full on love affair with fennel after ghosting it for so long (making up for lost time, though), I went with that too. Avocado in the fridge? Yeah, go on. One left over spring onion? Chuck that in. The last of the cucumber? Thinly slice that baby up. The dregs of my tahini jar? Let's make a dressing with a glug of olive oil, the juice of half a lemon, a squeeze of honey, a splash of water and three-four anchovy fillets torn into small pieces. (Now whisk).
Would recommend making the dressing in a big pyrex bowl, tipping half a bag of kale (stalks removed), super thinly sliced fennel (using a mandolin is good!) and the cucumber, avocado and spring onion in, then getting your hands in massaging it through. I added some of my fave chickpeas (Navarrico, literally why would you get any others? They're the best!), a few more whole anchovy fillets, a glug more of olive oil and then used a potato peeler on my parmesan, then served it up on my new favourite tableware dish (by Monoware, who have just launched and make me feel very grown up).
Serve with a beer on a Sunday afternoon (it's still summer after all), while looking up how to get stains out of your sofa. Oh wait, that might just be me.
a few leftovers.
– Still trying to perfect roast chicken, here's one from The New Yorker
– My new favourite food mag Bistro Boys chewing the fat with Top Cuvée
– Want it to be autumn so I can spend multiple evenings eating Four Legs' burger at The Compton Arms
– LA TUA MAC AND CHEESE (that's all)
– Happened upon Italo last week and it was closed but I really really want this sandwich
– Follow Nightcaps for all the best bottles
– Still down for cooking outside, even when summer breaks up with me – especially because my pal Ranga has the best camping recipe
if you like what I'm putting down?
Tell your friends! Tell your family! Tell your lovers!