No, I don't have a back 40. Maybe I have a back four like you, a 4x4x4 chunk of concrete back patio in Bernal Heights, ancient cactus in one corner, Wizard-of-Oz cyclone cellar door in the other, a few beat-up chairs, windchimes, and ashtrays filling in the rest. Perfect for a garden! Last summer, my gardening lust didn't get tripped until July, when I came home with high hopes and a couple of leggy tomato plants, only to find myself running a soup kitchen for a hungry neighborhood of whiteflies and aphids. Embarassing for someone with a certificate in ecological horticulture, to say the least.

This year, I put that hard-won CASFS knowledge to use. To wit: pests prey on weak plants, plants growing out of season, deprived of the nutrients they need. A healthy eco-system is one that supports beneficial bugs and pollinators, with a mixed palette of plants and bugs that can overwhelm destructive pests. Food not lawns, sure, but flowers can be just as hard-working as veggies, pumping out the nectar that feeds the bees and wasps, and in the process both enabling plant sex and elbowing out less desirable insects. Bachelor's buttons, borage, sweet alyssum, morning glory, cosmos, sunflowers: they all bloomed and did their part, along with the stunning salpiglossis that was just there to look gorgeous.

So, what was growing in the back four by four? Tomatoes, of course, which no summer gardener can be without, even in too-chilly, too-foggy San Francisco. Not having the willpower of the Zen gardeners at Green Gulch, who bow to the powers of their surrounding cool marine winds and don't even try, I compromised with a couple of cherry tomato plants, a Chadwick Cherry (named after Alan Chadwick, mad genius and founding UCSC gardener) and a Golden Nugget, both birthed from thumb-sized starts from the Free Farmstand. The rest of the veggies came from seeds, thanks to my conviction that unless it's grown from seed, you didn't really earn it and it's not really yours.

Now, I'm not a spiritual person. Planting seeds is the closest thing I get to an expression of faith: you hold these tiny specks, all shapes and colors, and trust that they contain everything to rise into life. You slip them into the dirt, water them every morning, and the day after you've skeptically succumbed to doubt, they pop up, all fresh and new, eager to spin the whole wheel again. Samsara, sure, only it all tastes really, really good.

What I grew, all in containers using just potting soil, encouraging words, and (no, I'm not proud, but I'm honest) the occasional dose of Miracle-Gro, along with size-10 sneakers unashamed to stomp on lettuce-munching caterpillars: French Baby Nantes carrots, which stayed pinkie-sized but were amazingly sweet and crunchy; sugar snap peas, prolific and delicious, despite a leaf-devouring case of fog-borne powdery mildew; the aforementioned Golden Nugget and Chadwick Cherry tomatoes; African blue basil, skimpy-leaved but prolific in pretty mauve flower spikes; tiny whorls of green and red container lettuce, mostly eaten by those effing caterpillars; and of course, early summer's fingerling potatoes.

My old pals Sally and Christina, who came over to photograph, then eat, that first potato crop, came by again to dine on the fruits of the Summer Salad Project, augmented by a variety of local items. There was some crusty sourdough flatbread I'd made from locally grown and milled grains: whole-wheat flour from Eatwell Farm and cornmeal from Erin at Ridgecut Gristmills, glossed with olive oil from McEvoy Ranch near Petaluma and flavored with summer savory from a Marquita Farm mystery box.

With it went garden antipasti: the five ripe cherry tomatoes we could pick, a handful of sugar-snap peas and baby carrots, sheep's milk ricotta from West Marin's Bellwether Farms and a bowl of homemade mayonnaise. And Julia Child's advice aside, you don't even need to warm the bowl; as long as you go slow whisking in the oil in the beginning, making mayonnaise is a snap. All it takes is olive oil, lemon juice, salt, egg yolks, a little mustard, a whisk and three or four minutes' worth of patience.

There were also deviled eggs made using more of that mayonnaise, because who doesn't love a deviled egg? For dinner, garlicked-and-lemoned greens, made from a mixture of erbette chard, radish and beet greens, all pulled from the mystery box, and the piece de resistance: a succotash of Brentwood corn mixed with roasted serrano chiles, heirloom tomatoes, basil and savory from Mariquita, plus roasted torpedo onions and fresh flageolet beans grown by Annabelle at La Tercera Farm. In our glasses went pink vin gris from Bonny Doon, bought on sale at Good Life Grocery up the street.

Now, I'm name-checking for a reason. This isn't brand-naming just for some kind of locavore dirt cred. The dinner was local on purpose, but it also wasn't particularly hard to put together, thanks to the agricultural abundance surrounding us. What was on our plates was also community through commerce; all these vegetables were the livelihoods of people I've gotten to know, even just a little, through buying their vegetables week after week, visiting their farms, walking through their fields or orchards. It doesn't take much time to put a face on your food, and to make it part of a larger web of interlocking stories and histories, a personal geography marked by olives and zucchini, the taste of a milky green wheat kernel or the sight of two tiny leaves poking up out of the dirt.

And that night, looking around the table, Christina said grace to thank the earth, the farmers, the cook, and friendship, for making it all worth it.

Nothing says summer quite like an outside party. Whether you’re in a backyard, on a crowded deck, or in a park, gathering with friends and family to sip chilled beverages while you chat and nosh are what summer is all about. Whatever your outdoor area, it’s great if your party occurs on a hot day, but in the Bay Area, sweaters may also be in order. The one element that is essential, however, is good food. So if you decide to throw a full barbecue or just serve appetizers, food is a crucial element to any successful bash.

I recently threw a backyard party to celebrate the upcoming nuptials of two of our closest friends. It was technically dubbed a “wine shower,” but we were lucky enough to also have a keg of freshly brewed ale, courtesy of the bride’s generous brother. With almost 50 people attending, I decided to serve a variety of small plates along with lots of cheese and charcuterie. A full dinner for that many people would have been overwhelming and too expensive, so we went with a nice selection of appetizers.

I wanted to take advantage of fruits and vegetables that are in season right now, while also providing foods that accented each other nicely. Just as important, however, was providing a selection of plates that would be easy to eat in a backyard setting. Following are some of the dishes I made. All were easy to prepare and went well with the wine and beer we served.

So whatever the occasion -- from a wedding shower or Labor Day party to just finding an excuse to hang out with family and friends -- I hope you enjoy your own outdoor summer party soon.

Grilled Zucchini, Fennel, Onion and Pepper Salad
In separate batches, either grill or broil sliced zucchini, fennel, red onion and red or orange peppers in some olive oil. Once the vegetables are barely browned and still al dente, place in a bowl and season with kosher or sea salt and a sprinkling of balsamic vinegar. You don’t want the vegetables to be too vinegary, so just add enough to flavor the dish.

Potato and Artichoke Frittata
Spread some cooked potatoes and fresh artichoke slivers sautéed in olive oil in an oiled oven-proof pan. Fresh artichokes work well here. Just pare some small ones so only the choke remains and then thinly slice. Top with a mixture of 6 large eggs, a 1/4 cup of milk, some salt and pepper, adding a sprinkling of Parmesan cheese at the end. Cook on low, with a lid on the pan, until mostly done. Place pan under a broiler to finish off the frittata and then remove it from the pan to cool.

Egg Salad in Endive Cups Made with Homemade Mayonnaise
Make egg salad from about a dozen hard-boiled eggs. If you’d like, add chopped celery or other accompaniments, although I usually don’t as the endive adds enough crispness for my liking. Place scoops of the egg salad into washed endive leaves (I like to use both red and white) and refrigerate until ready to serve. This recipe is particularly good with homemade mayonnaise, which has a much better texture and flavor than the store bought variety. Just be sure to keep the egg salad cups refrigerated until you serve them to reduce the risk of spoilage. Also, please note anything made with raw eggs has a risk of carrying salmonella.

Smoked Salmon and Dill Cream Cheese Rolls
Just place some cream cheese mixed with fresh dill and some salt into 1- to 2-inch slices of smoked salmon and then them roll up. I like to put the cream cheese in a baggie and then cut the corner so I make an impromptu pastry bag. You can then insert a toothpick into each one so they’re easy for people to pick up.

Figs Wrapped in Prosciutto
Kim Laidlaw wrote about figs and prosciutto a couple of weeks ago, but I’ll repeat it here as this is a very easy and delicious dish to serve to guests. Cut very ripe figs in half lengthwise and drape with thin slices of prosciutto. The prosciutto-fruit pairing also works exceedingly well with sliced nectarines, peaches, and cantalope.

Stone Fruit Salad
Cut a variety of stone fruits into slices. If the fruits aren’t as sweet as you’d like, add a little sugar or honey and stir. This can easily be turned into a dessert if you just add some whipped cream. Even better, serve it with a slice of cake or a dish of ice cream.

Chilled Lentil, Red Pepper and Red Onion Salad
In a bowl, mix 2 cups of cooked small lentils (if you don’t want to boil them yourself, you can buy them precooked at Trader Joe’s), a 1/2 cup of diced red pepper, and a 1/2 cup of diced red onion. Mix in about a 1/4 cup each of extra virgin olive oil, balsamic vinegar and freshly chopped Italian parsley. The oil and vinegar amounts will vary depending on how dry the lentils are. Season to taste. You can make this up to a day before serving (keeping it in the refrigerator) so the dressing becomes incorporated into the beans and vegetables.