There is no shortage of fun food-filled things to do on a holiday weekend in the Bay Area. July 4th weekend was no exception and due to the amazing summer weather I spent Saturday morning at the Ferry Plaza Farmers' Market...shooting, shopping and eating.

A good starting point...

Blue Bottle Coffee at SF Ferry Plaza Farmers Market

All Photos: Wendy Goodfriend

It's that time of year again -- the grills are uncovered, fireworks stands [used to] start popping up near busy intersections, and everyone and their mother is digging through cookbooks in search of Fourth of July recipes. This week, kids will be running around with sparklers while mom and dad solidify plans for their annual Independence Day barbecue.

While grilled goodies are usually at the top of everyone's mind on July 4th, there's still the all-important matter of dessert. It seems like every year, someone makes the traditional sheet cake that looks like the American flag. You know the style: It's huge and white with a square of blueberries for the star portion of the flag, and row upon row of strawberries and frosting dollops to make up the stripes. It's a good cake, one that I've eaten and enjoyed countless times. Yes, I said countless. Which means I'm really, really bored with the same old flag cake, which I've been eating for 30-something years.

This year I decided to shake it up a little. I eschewed the white cake for something richer (chocolate! ganache!). Since it's Independence Day I decided to keep the red, white and blue decorations, but I sat down and thought about the best way to go about using these colors without recreating the hackneyed flag design (to you lovers of the flag cake, really, no offense). After a few days of pondering I decided to create a layer cake for a more interesting look, with half of the fruit on the inside of the cake, peeking out the sides.

I think you'll like the end result: A rich, smokey cake with light, colorful accents of summer fruit and whipped cream. Kids will love the headiness of the chocolate, and adults will appreciate the departure from the norm.

A Tower of Chocolate: The Three-Layer Fourth of July Chocolate Cake
Makes: One really thick 9" cake, which will be cut into three layers servings
Prep time: 60 minutes, including decorating
Cook time: 50 minutes

While making this cake, I decided to go the lazy route and used a 9-inch cake pan that's 3-inches deep. I poured all of the batter into one pan and then sliced it into three thinner layers with a cake leveler. There is also a gluten-free version of this Fourth of July cake.

Ingredients

For cake:

• 2 ounces bittersweet or semisweet chocolate chopped
• 2 ounces unsweetened chocolate, chopped
• 6 tablespoons hot coffee
• 1 cup unsalted butter, at room temperature
• 1 1/2 cup sugar, divided
• 4 large egg yolks
• 2 cups flour
• 1 teaspoon baking powder
• 1 teaspoon baking soda
• 1 1/2 teaspoon salt
• 1 cup buttermilk, at room temperature
• 1 teaspoon vanilla extract
• 4 large egg whites

For decorating:

• 4 cups of whipped cream
• 1 carton fresh strawberries, cleaned, cored, and sliced in half
• 1 handful each of fresh blueberries
• 1 handful each of fresh raspberries
• 1/2 cup chocolate ganache, warmed and ready to pour

Instructions

To bake the cake:
1. Butter single 3-inch deep, 9-inch cake pan, lining the bottom with a round of parchment or wax paper (trust me, this will make your life much easier). Preheat the oven to 350 degrees.
2. Over a double boiler, melt both kinds of chocolates together with the 6 tablespoons of coffee. Stir until smooth, then set aside until the chocolate reaches room temperature.
3. With an electric mixer, beat the butter and 1 1/4 cup of the sugar until light and fluffy, about 5 minutes. While beating, slowly drizzle in the melted chocolate, following with the egg yolks one at a time.
4. In a separate bowl, sift together the flour, baking powder, baking soda and salt.
5. Mix half of the sifted dry ingredients into the creamed butter, then add the buttermilk and vanilla. Follow with the rest of the dry ingredients.
6. In a separate bowl, beat the egg whites until they hold soft peaks. Add the remaining 1/4 cup of sugar and continue beating until stiff peaks form.
7. Fold half of the egg whites into the cake batter to lighten it up a bit, then fold in the rest, stopping just when there's no trace of egg white visible. Do not overbeat or you will flatten the batter.
8. Pour the batter into the prepared cake pan with a parchment round in the bottom. Smooth the top of the batter with your finger and bake for about 50 minutes, until a toothpick inserted into the center comes out clean.
9. Cool cake completely before decorating.

To decorate the cake
Note: If you're going to slice your cake horizontally, I'd recommend putting it in the refrigerator overnight (or at least a few hours) to firm up before slicing. The firmness of the cake will allow for more effective slicing. I highly recommend the use of a cake leveler, though a serrated knife will work in a pinch.

1. Level your cake by removing the rounded top where it rose in the oven. You can either use a long serrated knife or a cake leveler. I use the leveler, because it's a cheap tool that does the job very well, and it's a lot easier to make straight layers by walking the leveler in a sawing motion, instead of making crooked layers with a serrated knife.
2. If you poured all of your batter into a single 9" pan, cut it into three layers of equal thickness.
3. Place your base layer of cake onto a lazy Susan or other turnable decorating surface. Trust me, this will make your life easier.
4. Scoop whipped cream into a pastry bag, and using a large star tip of your choice, pipe a series of swirls around the edge of the cake, with a large swirl in the middle. It should look like this:

   

5. Decorate each dab of whipped cream by adding a piece of fruit into the middle. Do not add any fruit to the large swirl of whipped cream in the middle.
6. Using the pastry bag, add a small dab of whipped cream between each larger swirl. Top each dab with a blueberry. When you're done, it should look something like this:

   

7. If you have three layers, gently place the middle layer of cake on top of the decorated layer, making sure it's straight. Decorate with whipped cream as you did the first layer, so that they look the same.
8. Place final layer of cake on top of decorated layer. Pour 1/2 cup ganache into the center of the cake, and using an icing spatula gently push the ganache to the edges, allowing it to artfully dribble over the sides. NOTE: You don't want a lot of ganache flowing all over the place. You just want a few drips down the side as an accent.
9. Set the cake in the refrigerator for 20 minutes to solidify the ganache.
10. Decorate the top of the cake with more whipped cream and fruit, like you did the other layers. You can be as creative as you want here, so go all out! When you're done, push more fruit into the visible whipped cream between the layers where it needs a little color. You should have something similar to the photo below.
11. This cake should be put in the fridge overnight to tighten up the whipped cream, which may droop and run in hot weather. Refrigerator until about an hour before serving. If it's especially hot that day, leave it in the fridge until just before you cut it.

Happy 4th of July! To me, the 4th of July is a small-town holiday, and not just because of the inevitable disappointment of San Francisco's fog-shrouded fireworks. This is a day for shiny fire trucks and kids with red-white-and-blue ribbons woven through the spokes of their bikes riding down Main Street, for the scent of hamburgers grilling at the neighbors' house, for popsicles dripping sticky down your arm and the magic glow of sparklers in the deepening twilight, an appetizer to the fireworks booming over the high school football field.

Walking down the street in Novato, where I'm house-sitting for the next few weeks, every shop is festooned with flags, glitter, and red, white, and blue. From Mill Valley to Noe Valley, goofy patriotism wins the day when it comes to decor. Can there be too much bunting? Too many Uncle Sam hats covered in stars and stripes? Too many cupcakes topped with raspberries and blueberries?

Unlike, say, Thanksgiving, the 4th of July is a holiday where everyone wants to eat, but no one really wants to cook. For one, unless you live right in chilly San Francisco, it's too hot to be in the kitchen, not when there's ice-cold beer in the cooler and lemonade on the patio. Get someone--your husband, your butch spouse--to man (or woman) the grill, pile up the sausages, salmon, or burgers around them, hand them a cold drink and presto! Your entree is complete. There remains only the sides, and anyone can pour out a bowl of chips, put out some hummus and salsa (we're a melting-pot country, after all), toss together some potato salad and lay out the buns, pickles, lettuce and tomato.

Oh, would that it were that easy! I've been to many, many summer barbecues like that, and there's always a catch. You see, getting the grill started is the duty of the host. And somehow, the host is always too busy cracking beers and kicking back with the bros to notice how half the guests (usually, in my experience, the less chip-inclined female half) are ready to gnaw their own arms in hunger by the time the charcoal is finally ignited. Note to grillers: charcoal takes a long time to heat up and burn down. Longer than you think! Really! Even you with the flick-the-button propane grills, some preheating is necessary, especially if you're doing ribs or chicken.

Rather than start surreptitiously searching my hosts' drawers for matches, though, I've learned a trick that never fails: Bring gazpacho.

Gazpacho, my friends, is the 4th of July barbecue's best friend. Face it: no one really wants to eat salad at a barbecue. Undressed, it shrivels; dressed, it turns to sludge after an hour in the sun. All those leafy greens take up valuable paper-plate real estate, space that could be better filled with pita chips and guacamole. But when the good parts--the tomatoes, the cucumbers, the olive oil and vinegar--are diced, pureed, and chilled into an easily drinkable soup, what was once superfluous becomes madly refreshing and much more satisfying than a pile of lettuce. As California native M.F.K. Fisher wrote in How to Cook a Wolf, in 1942,

"...it is the perfect summer soup, tantalizing, fresh, and faintly perverse as are all primitive dishes eaten by too-worldly people.

It is good for lunch, or for supper. It is especially good if you have a barbecue, and want some legitimate and not too alcoholic way to keep your guests busy while you turn the steak: put a big tureen of it on the table, and let them serve themselves into cups, and eat toasted crusts with it if they want. Then when you declare the entree done, whether it be filet or ground-round patties, you will find appetites sharp and wits fairly clear, and a satisfying patina of conversation glimmering in the air."

There are many different gazpachos, all born from the baking summers of Andalusia in central Spain, and since adapted all around the world. Right now, since truly fabulous local tomatoes are still a month away, my current favorite version uses strawberries to boost that perfect balance of acid and sweet.

Many recipes call for canned tomato or V8 juice; I find it too tongue-coatingly thick and metallic for something as pure as this salad soup. Ice water helps the cool vegetables along; you can add more ice cubes after chilling, to keep it cold on the buffet. Serve in a punch bowl or pitcher, with glasses or mugs alongside. It also makes a great first course for a sit-down lunch; in that case, add a spoonful of finely diced strawberries, tomatoes, and cucumbers to each bowl, and drizzle with basil oil just before serving. Or, for true 4th of July kitsch, you can top each bowl with stripes of creme fraiche and "stars" of fresh blueberries. Hurrah for the red, white, and blue!

Strawberry Gazpacho
Sweet summer strawberries give a certain je ne sais quoi to this excellent warm-weather refresher, especially in the early summer before local tomatoes are ripe.
Makes 1 ½ quarts (6 cups)

Ingredients
2 pints strawberries, preferably organic, hulled
1 red pepper, seeds removed, chopped
1 large tomato, cored
½ sweet onion, such as Maui, Vidalia, or Walla Walla, peeled and chopped
1 clove garlic, peeled
1 large cucumber, peeled and chopped
3 tbsp red wine vinegar
2 tbsp extra-virgin olive oil, or to taste
1/4 tsp sea salt, or to taste
freshly ground pepper
1 cup ice water, or as needed

Basil Oil
1/2 cup basil leaves, loosely packed
1/3 cup olive oil

Garnish
1 pint strawberries, hulled and finely diced
1 cucumber, peeled, seeds scooped out, finely diced
generous handful of small pear or cherry tomatoes, seeds removed, finely diced

Preparation
1. Combine strawberries, vegetables, vinegar, oil, salt and pepper, and ½ cup water. Stir well and refrigerate for one to three hours to let flavors blend.

2. Pour mixture into a blender and puree until smooth. Taste for seasoning, adding more salt, vinegar, or oil as needed. Add more water if gazpacho seems too thick. If desired, strain through a chinois or medium strainer for a smoother texture. Refrigerate for several hours, until thoroughly chilled.

3. While soup is chilling, make basil oil. To preserve the leaves’ bright green color, blanch basil in boiling water for 10 seconds. Drain and pat dry. Puree with oil until smooth. Cover tightly and refrigerate until needed.

4. Just before serving, dice garnish ingredients and toss together. Pour soup into small bowls or shot glasses. Top each serving with a spoonful of garnish and a few drops of basil oil.

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.