Where I work, there are a small handful of men who occasionally begin their sentences with the phrase "In my village..."

"In my village, we have a festival." "In my village, we would never treat an octopus in such a way."

These men can get away with saying such things as easily as they can get away with calling women "baby" because they are Greek. They have the accent, they have an old world charm about them that clings like the smell of clove and stale cigarette smoke.

And I have always been a little bit jealous. If I were to ever pepper my sentences with the words "In my village..." People would most likely assume it was Greenwich Village. And I can just forget about using the word "baby." Ever.

Well, I can get away with things they can't, too, like speaking only in Sondheim lyrics. And giving Greeks a hard time about, well, being so damned Greek. But it's only because I love them, I really do.

We clearly have our differences, but that is something I cherish. For example, in my childhood village of Anaheim, summer outings often included salads made from fresh Jell-o and organic, vine-ripened mini-marshmallows from my neighbors' gardens.

In the villages of my Greek co-workers, however, one will find strange, unnatural combinations. Things like tomatoes and cucumbers or, ripe watermelon and feta cheese.

They are crazy people, these Greeks.

Crazy good, I mean.

If you haven't tried this flavor combination, then you have not tasted summer. I know, that sounds like bad advertising copy, which is why I remain poor, but it's true, nevertheless.

Give it a go this weekend. I mean it. You'll thank me for it later, baby.

Karpouzi me Feta (Watermelon Salad)

Serves whoever, wherever and as many as you need.

I've brought this dish to a few picnics in my day. The initial reaction to it is usually one of strange curiosity. Watermelon and, what? Feta? How interesting. I would never have thought to pair watermelon with cheese.

Well, I'm glad somebody did.

This is such a pleasantly simple dish to make. And it takes about five minutes to create a big bowl or platterful. The watermelon, which smacks of summertime, offers a bit of sweet refreshment and hydration, while the cheese lends a bit of salty protein. And the olive oil, of course, gives you a shiny, healthy-looking coat. It is the perfect antidote to drinking alcohol in the hot sun and, therefore, the perfect Fourth of July picnic salad-- all Red, White, and Green, just like the American flag is to the marginally colorblind.

Ingredients:

One of the best things about this recipe is that there really is no recipe, just a list of ingredients. You want a lot of cheese? Go for it. Lots of olive oil? Absolutely. And let it dribble down your chest a little and rub it in for a deep, dark, Bain de Soleil-like golden tan. Delicious.

1 small, ripe seedless (or not) watermelon, rind removed and cut into reasonably-sized cubes

Feta cheese. Good feta. Greek Feta. From Epiros, if possible. Cubed or crumbled.

Good olive oil. Extra virgin. No, it does not have to be Greek.

Fresh basil, torn into small pieces. Or even oregano.

Toasted pine nuts or pumpkin seeds. I thought pumpkin seeds were an inspired choice given the pumpkin's shape and vine-grown status. That, and the fact that the pine nut bin at the store had been ravaged by the time I got there.

Preparation:

1. On a picnic platter or other, preferred serving dish, place cubed watermelon.

2. Crumble the feta over the watermelon, drizzle with olive oil, and sprinkle the mass with herb-of-choice and nut/seed-of-choice.

3. Serve immediately.

4. Watch the he-men crow and sweat over their grills while you kick back, have a drink, and accept compliments about your brilliant salad.

Makings of a Man Meal

Credit must be given where it's due -- the Hearty Man Meal originated with my older brother who I must admit, is pretty self-sufficient in the kitchen. Unfortunately, I'm not able to divulge the inspiration and story of creation behind this recipe, because he won’t answer my call right now. (Sorry bro, you just missed your chance at blogger famedom).

Like all great recipes, the Man Meal has evolved over time, lovingly tweaked and revised until it resurfaced as the hearty, manly goodness it is today. Terence started out with peppers, onions, and Jimmy Dean. Hua added eggplant, chicken, and oyster sauce.

Delicious, nutritious, and easy to prepare, this fortifying meal was the perfect bachelor-friendly dish to feature in a cooking class (Dude's Night: Cooking 101) we hosted last weekend.

The guys all agreed, this Man Meal has everything you need -- veggies, meats, and an awesome sauce.

Start with your vitamin-rich vegetables.

Carrots and bell peppers for sweetness…

Knife skills: how to not cut your fingers off

Eggplant for a great binding texture…

Respect the vegetable

And of course, onions for that aromatic base.

Saute away

Happy veggies

Now for the meat. I discovered Jimmy Dean for the first time. I think I was always scared of it, and must have bypassed it at the supermarket dozens of times, sitting so unassumingly on the meat shelf. Food snobs don't turn your nose up. Jimmy Dean is tasty.

As your happy veggies saute away, crumble some JD sausage into a separate pan and let it brown. For an extra protein boost, add some chunks of skinless chicken meat, and let that brown as well.

Get primitive on that bird.

Once the meat is browned, you can add it to the vegetable mixture.

Vegetable/meat comingling.

And then it's sauce time.

BBQ sauce and Oyster sauce

A smoky hickory BBQ sauce and salty Oyster sauce create the base of the Man Meal sauce. A touch of Sriracha adds heat, Worcestershire sauce gives it a little tang, brown sugar brings sweetness, and sesame oil adds a toasty, nutty, dimension to the mix.

Always taste taste taste as you cook

If you taste the sauce at this point, it will be not so good. The bold, salty flavors are aggressive when tasted alone, but once the sauce melds in with the other ingredients, it works.

Dig in!

This dish is great because once you combine everything, you can let it simmer on the stove and just leave it for 30-40 minutes with no fuss -- go for a run, pump some iron, whatever. When you return, you'll have a hearty meal fit for a lumberjack ready to eat.

Man Meal done-zo

Hearty Man Meal

Makes: 5 Man-servings

Ingredients:
2 red bell peppers
2 eggplant
1 large onion
1 ½ cup peeled baby carrots
1 Jimmy Dean sausage roll
5 skinless chicken thighs
Olive oil (for sauteing)
Cooked Rice

Sauce:
¼ cup barbecue sauce (Hickory brown sugar flavor)
½ cup oyster sauce
2 teaspoons Worcestershire sauce
1 teaspoon brown sugar
1 teaspoon Sriracha chili sauce
1 teaspoon sesame oil

Preparation:
1. Chop all the veggies into similar sized pieces.
2. Heat a few tablespoons of olive oil in a large pan over medium heat and sauté onions and peppers until caramelized and softened. Add carrots and eggplant.
3. In a separate pan, brown the sausage by heating a drizzle of oil, and crumbling pieces of the meat into the pan.
4. Cut the chicken into bite-sized pieces and add to the sausage. Cook until the meat is browned and has a nice sear.
5. Mix together all the sauce ingredients and add to the veggie mixture. Add the meat and combine.
6. Let simmer, uncovered, for 30-40 minutes.
7. If the sauce needs thickening, add a mixture of 1 teaspoon cornstarch/2 tablespoons cool water into the sauce and let simmer for a few more minutes.

Serve over rice. Eat and Fortify.

Well happy Pride weekend and all that.

Frankly, I had conveniently managed to forget about it until my friend Sean mentioned that Cloris Leachman was to be Grand Marshall in this weekend's big parade.

I've never much cared for Pride Weekend. It's not that I don't enjoy being gay, because I do. I can reference old movies with abandon, not worry about child support payments, and get away with saying things that most straights would never dare to.

And, of course, I am proud of the fact that I know who Cloris Leachman is. I think every homosexual is required by law to quote freely and liberally from The Mary Tyler Moore Show.

I love being gay. I just don't love big parades-- they make me wonder how I'm supposed to get across town. It's kind of like how I feel about Christmas. I love the spirit of the thing, but I hate the clothes, the crowds, and the decorative motifs.

So no pink today, no Sarah-Tucker-there's-a-rainbow-on-your-table.

But there is fruit.

That's the best tie-in I can think of for clafoutis.

Clafoutis

Many of you know this dessert already-- it is, at heart, baked pancake batter dotted with fruit. There are recipes for apricot clafoutis (delicious), clementine clafoutis (if you don't know how I feel about clementines, please visit here), and eggplant clafoutis (?). If you can stick it into pancake batter, it's probably been made into a clafoutis.

A traditional clafoutis, however, is to be made with cherries. Amen.

Some folks run with the pancake theme, serving them warm and puffy and fresh from the oven for breakfast like one would a Dutch Apple Pancake. Do what you will, but the flavors blend together and texture becomes more custard-like if you have the patience to allow it to spend the night in your refrigerator.

The clafoutis is sort of like a Pride weekend trick-- if light and fluffy, fresh and hot is your thing, go for it. Out of your life and on to the next dessert, as it were. I just happen to prefer my clafoutis after it has hung around my kitchen for a little bit and settled down.

And I'm kind of proud of that.

Cherry-Almond Clafoutis

Serves: 4 to 8-ish, depending upon how you slice it.

This charming, no-fuss little number hails from the Limousin region of France, located not quite in the heart of the country, but more or less where the liver might be located.

Traditional clafoutis calls for leaving the pits in the cherries, the wisdom being that the pits lend a pleasant almond-like flavor to the dish. Of course, there are so few people left living in the Limousin region and those who remain are mostly elderly, that chipping a tooth is not considered much of a risk.

Ingredients:

1 pound of cherries (or enough to populate the surface of an 8-inch pan without touching each other), pitted or not pitted. The choice and the risk is yours.

1/2 cup all-purpose flour

2 large eggs

3/4 cups heavy cream (you can get away with using milk, but the day-after texture will suffer greatly, I promise).

6 tablespoons sugar

1/4 teaspoon salt

1/2 teaspoon vanilla extract

1/2 teaspoon almond extract

1/3 to 1/2 cup toasted slivered almonds

2 tablespoons unsalted butter

Powdered sugar, for dusting

Preparation:

1. Preheat oven to 350° F

2. In a blender, combine eggs, flour, cream, salt, and 2 tablespoons of sugar. Blend well, scraping down the sides of the blender from time to time. Or whisk aggressively. Your choice. When blended, add half the slivered almonds to the batter and stir them about.

3. In an 8-inch cast iron skillet or heat-proof baking pan, add butter and 2 tablespoons sugar until all is melted, slightly nutty-smelling, and syrupy. Add cherries; cooking and coating them for about two minutes.

4. Pour the batter gently into the pan around the cherries. Sprinkle the remaining sugar over the and pop into the center of your oven.

5. Bake for about 45 minutes, or until sufficiently browned and puffy, remove from the oven and let cool.

6. If your clafoutis is not sufficiently browned and puffy, do as I both say and do-- sprinkle the remaining almonds over the top and pop it under the broiler. Works like a charm unless you burn it.

7. Dust with powdered sugar for garnish just before serving with crème fraîche, lightly whipped cream, or all by itself.

Growing up in San Diego really fed my love for Baja Mexican food. In addition to the extraordinary taco shops up and down Highway 1 –- Juanitas, Robertos, Albertos –- Mexican food was an integral part of daily life in the area. Many people had mothers and grandmothers who made superb homemade tamales (especially at Christmas), others had fathers or brothers who would fish (yes, they were pretty much always the men in the family) and then bring home their catch for homemade fish tacos. In my family, the fish was caught by my brother-in-law Joe. I always loved when he would come home and toss the freshly caught rock cod or halibut on the grill while we all rounded up some tortillas and salsa.

Even better than the fish catch, however, was the lobster he would bring home from his diving stints during the short lobster season. Sitting out on the back patio with a plateful of just-caught and grilled to perfection lobster, drinking a cold cerveza and hanging out with my family is my idea of heaven. So last week, once the sun had broken through the June gloom, school was out, and summer was all around us, I just couldn't pass up the lobster tails I saw on sale for $7.99 each. Sure, they weren't caught that morning by Joe, but I figured they would make great tacos nonetheless. Plus west coast lobster is considered a "best choice" on the Monterey Bay Aquarium's Seafood Watch list, so I knew we could eat it guilt free.

As I had three ripe mangos sitting on my counter with three ripe avocados by their sides, I decided to veer from the normal salsa fresca we usually serve with our tacos. The mango and avocado salsa I whipped up went nicely with the lobster. Tossed with lime juice and diced jalapeno peppers, the salsa was sweet and slightly tangy with the perfect amount of heat. I decided to then top everything off with a blended sauce made from sour cream and avocado, which melded all the flavors together perfectly.

Sitting on our back patio, I knew summer had really arrived. The only thing missing was my family in San Diego. Guess I'll have to make this again when we visit them in August.

Note: This dish could easily be made with shrimp. And, of course, grilled fish is not only an acceptable alternative, but a fantastic one.

Grilled Lobster Tacos

Makes: 6 – 8 tacos

Ingredients:
2 medium-sized lobster tails
3 limes
2 Tbsp olive oil
6 – 8 corn tortillas

Preparation:
1. Drizzle juice from two limes plus the olive oil over lobster tails, coating them evenly. Let marinate for 15-20 minutes.
2. Heat grill.
3. On maximum heat, lay lobsters with the heavier part of the shell on the bottom and grill for 5-7 minutes or until the meat becomes pinkish and opaque.
4. Remove lobsters from the grill and set on a plate to cook for a couple of minutes.
5. Cut through a line down the thinner side of the shell and gently pull the meat from the shell. Set meat on a separate plate. Do the same for the other lobster.
6. Cut meat into ½-inch chunks and squeeze the last lime the lobster chunks. Add salt and pepper to taste.
7. Heat corn tortillas on the grill (about 30 seconds on each side).
8. Lay about ¼-cup lobster meat on each tortilla. Top with Mango Avocado Salsa and Avocado Crema. Serve.

Mango Avocado Salsa

Makes: 3 cups salsa

Ingredients:
3 small or 2 medium mangos
2 medium or 3 small avocados
½ to 1 whole jalapeno (depending on how hot you'd like the salsa). Remove stems, membranes and seeds.
2 limes
Salt to taste

Preparation:
1. Remove meat from mangos and avocados and cut into ¼-inch chunks. Place in a bowl.
2. Dice jalapenos into small pieces and add to the fruit.
3. Squeeze lime juice on top.
4. Add salt to taste.
5. Serve on top of tacos or with corn chips.

Avocado Crema

Makes: 1 cup

Ingredients:
1/2 an avocado
1/2 cup sour cream
salt to taste

Preparation:
1. Place avocado and sour cream in a small chopper or blender and mix until thoroughly combined and smooth.
2. Add salt to taste
3. Add as a topping to lobster or fish tacos.

As California's road trip season begins, it's time to pull out that list of foods that are worth a detour or two. If you're passing by or through tribal land, allow time in your day and space in your stomach for a stop at roadside stalls offering fry bread or, even better, Indian tacos. Many of us are all a-twitter about the mash-up of Korean bbq and tortillas. But this much quieter and long established blend of taco toppings on soft, still-hot flatbread is better than anything I've tasted from digitally hyped menus.

For the taco aficionados among you: Do not pepper me with hate comments about what constitutes a "real" taco. Take it up with the Indian Nations. For the politically minded, I acknowledge that the physical and cultural repercussions of making refined white flour a daily staple, is not something to celebrate, especially in communities stranded both literally and figuratively in the middle of vast food deserts. Like many foods we love, from latkes to lumpia, eating more isn't eating better.

But for those who are open to the culinary creativity of everyday folks, then this is food worth savoring. During your summer travels, look for stands located on busier strips near post offices, grocery stores or tribal councils. For the best fry breads, plan on arriving earlier in the day, as they will sell out. Peek around and see if there are cast iron pans at the ready. Each round of dough should be patted by hand and fried to order, and if it's your first time, order a plain one to enjoy fry bread at its humblest. If you like funnel cakes, doughnuts, angel wings, or those little bits of leftover pie dough that your mom fried up just for you, then you'll be right at home.

Many give Navajos of the Southwest the blue ribbon for making the best fry bread, but tribes all across the country have perfected their own versions. Some use baking powder; others have developed yeasty variations. Big or small, round or square, thin or hefty -- everyone has their favorite way of making it.

I wish I could say that fry bread has a happy history. Stories that includes broken treaties, prison camps and reservations, surplus commodities and starvation are not the ones usually passed around while we're stuffing our faces. But like bitter parsley and unsalted bread, times of suffering are also passed from table to table with pride. We are here. We survived. We are together. We will prevail.

Pow wows are one of the best places to enjoy native foods. Celebratory gatherings, these were banned by our government until the 1960s, but fortunately, they now appear annually in every region. Search this pow wow calendar for California to see if you'll be near one this year. Be sure it's open to the public, and check for special events that the kids will especially enjoy.

Fry bread is super easy to make, and kids will enjoy patting their own rounds. For a healthier version, try grilling the bread, another trick that is family friendly and even easier.

FRY BREAD

This recipe is adapted from one that appears in the excellent book, Foods of the Americas, by Fernando and Marlene Divina, published in partnership with the Smithsonian National Museum of the American Indian. Fry bread is usually cooked until golden, without deep browning or char marks. You can sprinkle the rounds with cinnamon and sugar for a sweet treat, or wrap your favorite sandwich fillings for a savory meal.

Makes: 8 small rounds.

Ingredients:
3 cups unbleached all-purpose flour, plus extra for rolling
1 tablespoon baking powder
1 teaspoon kosher salt
1 1/4 cups warm water
Vegetable oil, for frying

Preparation:

1. In a bowl, combine and stir together the flour, baking powder and salt. Make a well and then pour in the water. Form a soft dough, and then knead very gently and briefly to form a ball. Roll into a log, cover with a clean towel and let rest for 10 minutes.

2. Cut the dough crosswise into 8 pieces, keeping the pieces covered while you're working. Patting with floured hands and using a rolling pin, form rounds that are about 1/4-inch thick. Dust both sides of each round evenly with flour, stack and cover with a cloth until ready to cook.

3. To fry: Heat 1 inch of oil in a deep, wide pan over medium-high heat. Cook 1 to 2 pieces of dough at a time, taking care not to overcrowd. Cook, turning once, until golden brown, 2 to 3 minutes on each side. Cook one first, and test for doneness before continuing with the other rounds. The fry bread should be dry and crisp on the outside, moist on the inside. Drain on paper towels and serve will still warm.

4. To grill: Prepare charcoal or heat a gas grill to medium-high. After forming the rounds, place the dough on the grill rack and cook until bubbles form and the dough has risen slightly, 2 to 3 minutes on each side. The surface of the bread should be dry to the touch.

At gala events you expect to see top chefs preparing bite-sized nibbles for guests. But at StarChefs events working chefs are not just preparing the food, they are the ones being celebrated. StarChefs is all about the chefs of today, and the rising star events are a great way to get a taste of what's hot at the moment.

If you're not a chef, it's possible you've never visited StarChefs. The web site offers recipes, community features, publications and articles that are geared for the restaurant professional. Roughly every other year, they also hold an event in our neck of the woods. For the first time, this year they held a Rising Stars Revueâ„¢ in Napa and toasted the up and coming chefs of Napa and Sonoma at the historic Charles Krug winery in St. Helena.

Fifteen chefs, sommeliers and a mixologist were honored with food, wine and prizes to boot. Interestingly there were several husband and wife teams, one of whom had to close their restaurant in order to attend. Some favorite dishes from the evening were:

Ubuntu Fregola in Caramelized Vegetable Juices with Salsa Maro from Jeremy Fox of Ubuntu

Poached Poussin with Summer Vegetables from Christopher Kostow of The Restaurant At Meadowood

Ricotta Gnocchi, Salsa di Pomodoro della Nonna and Pecorino from Nick Ritchie of Bottega

Chicken Fried Sweetbreads with Green Bean and Mushroom Casserole from Matt Spector of Jolē

Sauteed Maryland Wild Striped Bass, Ragout of Salsify, Black Trumpet Mushrooms, Bloomsdale Spinach and Spinach Vin Blanc from Restaurateur Award winner John Toulze the girl & the fig, fig café, Estate

Lemon Verbena Parfait with Summer Stone Fruit from Pastry Chef Deanie Hickox-Fox of Ubuntu

Long Ranch Goat Two Ways: Grilled and Braised with Rancho Gordo Beans and Salsa Verde from Host Chef Richard Haake of Winery Chefs

At the event guests got a chance to vote for their favorite dish. I had a hard time choosing between intensely herbal and fragrant fregola dish and the delicate yet crisp striped bass but in the end, the winner was Matt Spector and his decadent sweetbread dish. Looking at the recipes that were in the program, it's clear why we love eating out. With complicated techniques, multiple preparations and long ingredient lists, these were not dishes you would likely make at home!

One of the most beautiful dishes was this plated dessert from Deanie Hickox-Fox. Basically an unconstructed tart, it featured a bit of crunchy crust, sweet apricot with lemon verbena cream accented with a fruit puree, and garnished with edible flowers and a thin wafer cookie.

To make at home, I'd recommend the cocktail presented by Scott Beattie, the Bella Ruffina, a pretty rose colored cocktail perfect for warm Summer days or nights...

Bella Ruffina
4 ounces Braquetto di Aqui
1 ounce Carpano Antico Vermouth
1 dash orange bitters
1 Amarena cherry, for garnish

Combine the sparkling wine, vermouth and bitters in a champagne flute and stir gently. Drop the cherry in the bottom of the glass to serve.

Recipe reprinted from Artisanal Cocktails by Scott Beattie, published by Tenspeed.

Mostaccioli with pork shoulder ragu

I've been making meat sauces for years, but only now -- after two months as an apprentice at Oliveto -- have I learned some of the secrets behind a superlative ragu.

A ragu is a basic meat sauce for pasta. The first authentic version I tried was years ago, in Emilia-Romagna, the region of Italy that invented the classic Bolognese sauce.

That first ragu was bold and brooding -- much like a Pavarotti opera. The sauce was entangled in a nest of perfectly cooked tagliatelle, with the flavor infused into the noodle.

Numerous cookbooks offer suggestions on making a Bolognese sauce and other forms of ragu. Yet nearly all of these recipes, in my opinion, are flawed. Most suggest cooking a mixture of diced onion, carrots and celery before adding your meat to brown it. The sauce that results tends to be lifeless or, even worse, infused with chunks of burnt vegetables.

Vegetables sweating on top of meat as the meat brown

At Oliveto, the chefs have reversed the sequence. First they brown the meat and then allow the vegetables to steam, or "sweat," on top of the meat. This process produces a dark layer of caramelized meat solids at the bottom of the pan -- a foundation of flavor. This foundation, or "fond" as the chefs call it, is then deglazed by the natural juices of the vegetables when added on top. This is allowed to cook down so the fond is rebuilt and deglazed two or three times.

Paul Bertolli, the former head chef at Oliveto, describes the technique in his 2003 book, "Cooking By Hand." Bertolli's successor, Paul Canales, who had a role in developing this technique, has continued to refine and perfect it since becoming executive chef.

Cooking a ragu in this manner is not difficult, but it cannot be whipped out in an hour or two. A ragu is truly slow food -- time-tested and refined by Italian grandmothers over many centuries.

Ragu ready for a long simmer, after broth and tomato paste have been added

Ragu for pasta

Makes: 8-10 servings of sauce

Ingredients:
2 pounds ground meat (Beef, pork or equal amounts of both. For beef, try ground chuck or get adventurous with ground hanger steak, beef cheeks, etc. For the pig, try ground pork shoulder.)
4 medium yellow onions
5 stalks celery
5 carrots
4 tablespoons finely chopped fresh sage
2 tablespoons finely chopped fresh oregano
6 cups dark chicken or veal stock
½ cup white wine
½ cup high-quality tomato paste
1 cup cream (optional)
Salt and pepper to taste

Preparation:

1. Dice the onions, celery and carrots into a mirepoix -- cubes smaller than 1/4 inch in size. As you are dicing the vegetables and mincing the fresh herbs, start cooking your meat. Use a heavy bottomed Dutch oven or stew pot. This is essential. The bottom of the pan has to be thick and heavy enough to brown the meat, without scorching it.

2. Use high heat to start your browning process. But keep an eye on it, and adjust the flame accordingly. It’s okay for the meat to stick and brown, but you don't want it to blacken or burn.

3. After you have built an even layer of fond on the bottom, toss your vegetables on top of the meat. Leave them there for at least 15 minutes, allowing them to release their juices to the bottom of the pan.

4. Give your meat and vegetable a rigorous stir with a wooden spoon, and scrape up the fond layer that has now been deglazed by the vegetables.

5. Turn up heat slightly, and allow this to cook down and brown again, then add a shot of wine -- no more than a cup. Stir and scrape.

6. Allow this to cook down again. When browned, add a cup of stock. Repeat the process and add your tomato paste, diluted with a half cup of stock.

7. Watch your ragu carefully at this point. The addition of tomato paste could lead to scorching. Keep the heat up, but stir it regularly as the fond starts to reform. When it is nice and brown, but not scorched, add two or three cups of stock -- enough to make it slightly more soupy than you'd want for a sauce.

8. At this point, your ragu should have a lovely, brownish-red color. Bring it to a boil and then turn down to a simmer. Allow it to simmer for two to four hours, stirring occasionally and adding more stock, if necessary.

9. Before serving, you have the option of adding cream -- as much or as little as you want. Too much cream will dilute the intensity of the sauce, so be judicious at first.

10. You can take this basic sauce in many different directions. Add minced porcini mushrooms early in the cooking for an earthier flavor, or cinnamon or nutmeg to give it a spicy edge. Use different combinations of fresh herbs.

11. The final step, of course, is marrying the ragu with the pasta. Don't just ladle it on top. Cook your pasta just short of al dente, then mix it thoroughly in a skillet with an appropriate amount of sauce and then serve it immediately. Sprinkle some Parmesan cheese on top, and you will be ready to sing.

This is what ragu should look like when finished

I am so tired of hearing people say they hate eggplant. Children, particularly, seem hard pressed to even try it. Maybe it's the name. I don't think the inclusion of "egg" does it any favors, especially where kids are concerned. I think many cooks are also intimidated by the spongy texture of this vegetable when uncooked; after all, once you peel it, an uncooked eggplant sort of looks like a big white loafy mass. It can also turn into a soggy mess if it's not cooked correctly. So when people say they don't like the taste, I figure they've just had a bad experience with it.

Even so, when my nieces were visiting recently and they said they didn't like eggplant, I was surprised. I thought that my mother, who is the queen of eggplant, would have made them converts to its flavors by now. But after a little questioning, I found out that what they really didn't like was the texture of unbreaded eggplant. Although my mother is famous for her Eggplant Parmesan, her method of cooking this dish is to fry the eggplant in olive oil without breading, so the texture is smooth and the flavor a bit acidic. But hating a vegetable because you don’t like one dish seemed silly to me, so I set out to defend the honor of this beloved vegetable by finding a recipe they would love.

Luckily my mother was also visiting so I had two brains working on this problem instead of just one. When one of my nieces saw my zucchini post on BAB, she said the fried flowers looked good. My mother then remembered that her dad (my grandfather) had loved eggplant dipped in only seasoned flower and egg and then lightly fried in olive oil. I figured this was a great way to make this vegetable more palatable to kids: the simple batter recipe would keep the spices to a minimum while frying would give the slices a nice crunch to negate any potential texture issues.

To make the process more fun, we got the kids involved in the cooking process. They loved blotting the eggplant, cracking eggs, and dipping vegetable pieces into the batter. The adults fried the eggplant, but the kids did almost everything else. Once the eggplant slices were ready to eat, they were quite proud of themselves and excited to try their handiwork.

Both my nieces and daughters loved this dish. We actually had to slice up a second eggplant to make more for the demanding fans. Best of all, everyone also had a great time. The TV was off, the stereo was on, and everyone was actively cooking and eating together. So if your little ones insist they hate eggplant (or if you have an adult in the same boat), I highly recommend getting them involved in the cooking process to try this simple recipe. It's fun to make and a surefire way to create eggplant lovers in your house.

Simply Breaded and Fried Eggplant

Makes: 4 servings

Ingredients:

1 medium-large eggplant
1/2 cup olive oil
1 cup flour
2 eggs
1/4 cup milk
1 tsp dried oregano
1 tsp kosher or sea salt plus more for sprinkling on the raw eggplant slices when prepping

Preparation:

1. Peel eggplant and then cut it into 1/4-inch thick slices.
2. Lay sheets of paper towel onto a cookie sheet or large colander (I prefer the latter) and lay enough eggplant slices down to cover the surface. Generously sprinkle salt onto the eggplant and then cover with another layer of paper towels. Repeat until you're out of eggplant
3. Let eggplant slices sit for 30-40 minutes.
4. Heat a frying pan (I like to use a large cast-iron pan, but anything that is not non-stick will work) on medium high. Add enough olive oil to cover the bottom with a 1/4-inch of oil.
5. Beat eggs with milk in a large flatish bowl and add 1/2 tsp salt to season it. Then mix the oregano and the other 1/2 tsp salt into the flour on a separate plate.
6. When oil is heated, press paper towels into the eggplant to soak up any extra liquid and then start dipping the eggplant slices into the flour mixture. Shake off an excess oil and then dip into the egg mixture to coat thoroughly.
7. Lay battered eggplant into the pan in batches, being sure not to crowd the pan.
8. Fry each side until golden brown. If the pan starts to get too hot, just lower the heat.
9. Repeat until all eggplant is cooked, adding more olive oil as needed.
10. Serve immediately.

Underappreciated fruits and vegetables will always have a special place in my heart. Rhubarb, nettles, quince: all these things, so tasty when cooked, used to be very popular until they got shouldered aside by easier pleasures that didn't sting the unwary picker into welts, or weren't so sour or astringent at first bite as to make you wince. Artichokes' dip-scooping leaves were probably its saving grace. But for its use as a nifty delivery system for melted butter and lemon mayonnaise, it would be a forgotten thistle today.

Apricots, while more accessible, still have a certain forgotten-fruit quality to them. Just as quince gets described as apple's tough, weird older sister, so apricots are often just a placeholder for peach-lovers, something sweet and orange with a pit that will do until the real goodies come along.

But apricots are good for cooking in a way that peaches aren't, their flavor intensifying into an ineffable tangy sweetness that leans just right against a crumbly, buttery short crust or a piece of whole-grain toast, especially one spread with mild fresh chevre. Too often, though, all that the marketplace offers is the big bland Patterson, so smooth-skinned, so bright, so uniform and so utterly dull.

What you really want, especially for jam, are Blenheims, also called Royal Blenheims. You have to trust in these, because they're not so pretty. Mostly they're small, often green-shouldered, often freckly. At peak ripeness, they're almost deliquescent, their pulp turning to jam right inside the skin.

But, oh, what juicy, sticky-dripping flavor! Slurpy-good right off the tree, they're sublime for jam. I like to use the same overnight-sugar macerating technique as for strawberries, although these apricots don't throw off enough liquid to make straining necessary. Instead, they subside gracefully into a pool of satiny slush that's part pulp, part skin, part juice, and all divine.

Being wildly uncommercial—too small, too funny-looking, too mushy, too short a season—Blenheims have to be hunted out, either from soft-hearted orchardists or friends with an old tree in the backyard. Everything Under the Sun (the folks with the "Sampling is Mandatory-We're Watching!" sign) at the Ferry Plaza Farmers' Market had them last week, and probably this week, but not for much longer. Carpe diem! Get out your jars!

Apricot Jam

Makes: 4 to 5 8-oz jars.

Ingredients:
3 lb apricots
2 1/2 cups sugar
1/4 cup fresh lemon juice (1-2 lemons)

Preparation:
1. Halve apricots and pop out pits. Cut fruit into quarters if large. Toss apricots, sugar, and lemon juice together in a glass or ceramic bowl. Cover with a towel and set aside for several hours at room temperature, or overnight in the refrigerator. Stir occasionally to help the sugar dissolve evenly, if you feel like it.

2. When all the sugar has been dissolved, pour the mixture into a wide, heavy-bottomed nonreactive pot and bring to a boil over medium heat. Reduce heat to low and simmer 10 minutes, stirring gently but frequently. Cook for another 8 minutes, until the fruit looks translucent and is beginning to break down. It's easy to scorch it at this stage, so stir frequently and don't wander off.

3. Pour mixture back into the bowl, let cool, then cover with a towel and set aside at room temperature for at least six hours, or overnight in the refrigerator.

4. Return fruit mixture to the large pot. Over low heat, bring to a simmer, stirring frequently. Cook for another 10-12 minutes, until fruit has mostly broken down and juices look syrupy. Scoop a small amount of juice onto a clean metal spoon. Tip the spoon sideways and let juice run off the edge. When juice has reached the jelly point, the last few drops will look thicker and run together into one viscous drop. Remove from heat. Ladle into clean, sterilized jars.

5. Set jars on a clean towel and do not touch or move them until they are completely cool. If you're using canning jars, listen for the slurpy sucking pop of the jars vacuum-sealing. Sealed jars will keep up to 1 year in a cool, dry place. If jar isn't sealed, store in fridge and eat within 2-3 weeks.

I love all summer fruits, but peaches are close to the top of my list of favorites. There's nothing tastier than eating a plump fresh peach, juices bursting. But after eating my fill of peaches, I crave more. I still want all that sweet and fragrant peachiness, but in another format. This is where peach pies and tarts come in, not to mention grilled peaches and peach jam. My new favorite peach recipes, however, may be the simplest of them all: peach ice pops and creamsicles.

If you have a blender and some ice pop molds, making homemade peach ice pops and creamsicles is a breeze. And if you don't have ice pop molds, you can use short plastic cups and popsicle sticks. The only hard thing about making these frozen treats is waiting for them to freeze before you can eat them.

Preparing homemade fruit pops is also fun. My kids enjoy making them with me and, better yet, they love to eat them. So, instead of grabbing some high-fructose Big Sticks or Rocket Pops (although I must admit I do love both of those), my children are licking pops made of real peaches, with all of their vitamins and nutrients, and having a ball doing it. Best of all, they're not just fun and good for kids, they taste delicious.

As with anything homemade, you get to decide how the final product turns out. If you want popsicles with fruit chunks, just puree the fruit until you have a smoothly flowing texture that retains some small chunks of peach to bite into later. If you like smooth ice pops, puree the mixture until you get a velvety consistency. And, if you're in a tart and fruity mood (and who doesn't feel like that sometimes), you can make non-dairy ice pops, but if you're feeling a bit decadent and want a treat with more of an ice-cream flavor, the creamsicles really hit the spot.

As much as I love peaches, however, I don’t limit myself to using just this one fruit for homemade pops. Stone fruits -- such as nectarines, apricots and plums -- work well with the recipes below, but you could also try using raspberries, strawberries, blueberries, blackberries, or whatever you'd like. Just use a little less juice or heavy cream when using berries as they have a more water consistency.

So if you're looking for something to do with your summer fruit, I highly recommend making homemade fruit pops and creamsicles. They're easy and fun to make, and are a great way to indulge in a delicious, and low calorie, summer dessert.

Note: To remove the popsicle from the mold, just dip the mold into a cup of warm water for about ten seconds. The mold should then release the pop.

Fresh Peach Ice Pops

Makes: 6 ice pops

Ingredients:
2 large peaches peeled
1/2 cup simple syrup
1 Tbsp lemon juice
1/2 cup peach nectar, mango juice or orange juice

Preparation:
1. Cut peach meat off the pit and place in a blender along with all the other ingredients.
2. Blend to desired consistency
3. Pour mixture into popsicle molds.
4. Freeze until frozen through.

Peach Creamsicles

Makes: 6 ice pops

Ingredients:
2 large peaches peeled
1/2 cup simple syrup
1/2 cup heavy cream, half and half, or whole milk
1 Tbsp lemon juice

Preparation:
1. Cut peach meat off the pit and place in a blender along with all the other ingredients.
2. Blend to desired consistency
3. Pour mixture into popsicle molds.
4. Freeze until frozen through.

Note: Although I like to peel my peaches before making ice pops and creamsicles, this step is optional. If you don't mind the peel, feel free to leave it in.

Simple Syrup

Makes: 3/4 to 1 cup syrup

Ingredients:
1/2 cup white sugar
1/2 cup water

Preparation:
1. Place sugar and water in a medium sauce pan
2. Bring mixture to a slow boil and stir until sugar dissolves.
3. Cool.