Three tablespoons cornstarch and a half-cup of sugar.
The meat smokes on the grill, the salad bowl is heaped with all kinds of greenery and crunchy vegetables, the garden has offered up a few cucumbers to slice and dust with chili/lime salt for a pre-dinner snack.
Three tablespoons cornstarch and a half-cup of sugar.
Dinner should be ready in about an hour, so I go through the mental checklist once more. Wine and beer chill in the fridge. Iced tea steeps.
Table set? Table not set. I call upstairs to rustle up the teenage people to get to work. They glumly come downstairs and start calculating the path of least table-setting effort.
“Can we use the plastic plates?”
“Do we need spoons?”
“Should we put out water glasses?”
Three tablespoons cornstarch and a half-cup of sugar.
Guests will be arriving soon. Is there toilet paper in the bathroom? Are tumbleweeds of dog fur skittering across the floor? Can I spy with my naked eye any ants, spiders, cockroaches or wasps?
One slow-moving teenage person gets hauled into the kitchen to empty and refill the dishwasher. No, I promise, you won’t have to clear.
Three tablespoons cornstarch and a half-cup of sugar.
The last thing to throw together before people arrive: dessert. It’s my usual, the only dessert I make during this season of late spring giving way to summer. A fruit crisp. I make these so often I don’t really need much of a recipe. Nor do I really need to go shopping because we always buy too much fruit and need to use it up.
We always have too many peaches lying around — aren’t they good this year? — so I put on a pot of water to boil. I cut a quick X at the bottom of each of my five peaches, dunk them in the water for about 10 seconds and then the skins peel right off. I slice them right into a ceramic baking pan.
What else do I have to go into the crisp today? Four apricots and a pint of blueberries.
And then, yes, three tablespoons cornstarch and a half cup of sugar. I don’t know why this always works for me, but it does. As long as I remember this part of the recipe, I’ll end up with a good crisp, no matter what fruit I scrounge up.
For the topping I go back to improv mode. A cup or so of rolled oats, for sure, and a heaping spoonful or two of flour and of course some brown sugar. Maybe a sprinkle of cinnamon. If I have flax seeds or any kind of nuts on hand, they get dumped into the bowl with just enough soft butter to bring everything together when you start to knead it with your hand. Maybe half a stick? That sounds right.
The crisp goes into a 350-degree oven. I quickly scoop away the dirty mixing bowl and the pile of peach pits and skins in time to welcome our guests. An hour later, when we’re at dinner, a timer goes off in the kitchen.
I excuse myself and take my bubbly summer crisp out of the oven to cool.
It’s a welcome sight, as always. So easy to throw together, such a perfect distillation of the season, so delicious with vanilla ice cream.
Shoot. Do we have ice cream? Did I ever remember to get some? And did those kids ever put toilet paper in the bathroom like I asked?
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Summer Fruit Crisp: A simple recipe
Combine in a 13”-by-9” ceramic baking pan:
5-6 cups of any summer fruit, such as berries or sliced peaches
3 tablespoons cornstarch
1/2 cup sugar
Juice of a lemon (optional)
Combine in a mixing bowl:
About 1 to 11/2 cups of rolled oats
About 1/4 cup flour
About 1/4 cup brown sugar
About 4-5 ounces soft butter
Sprinkles of salt and cinnamon
Flax seeds, pecan pieces, slivered almonds, as desired
Knead the topping with your hand until it starts to loosely clump. Spread over the top of the fruit. Cook in preheated 350-degree oven for 1 hour, or until juices are visibly thick and very bubbly. Cool before eating.
