Dinner tonight: A midsummer night's meal

Tomatoes, basil, mint, lemon...I might complain about the heat, but I'm definitely enjoying summer's bounty of vegetables and fruit. Last night, after a particularly long day with the tots (ahh, the adventures of bringing two seventeen-month-olds to Fort Greene Park), Evan walked in expecting me to say, "I'm not cooking tonight, what do you want to order?" (He actually walked into a post-bath scene of Jack running naked down the hall and Nellie screaming because, instead of letting her join her brother, I was trying to strap a diaper on her before she peed.) He was pleasantly surprised when I started whipping up an insanely easy dinner that left us both nom-om-om-ing at the table.

The salad: bufala mozzarella and mini red and golden tomatoes with olive oil, sea salt, and basil. Come on now. Thank you Bon Appetit, for the inspiration.

The pasta: linguine with pea and mint pesto. The always helpful Dinner a Love Story was responsible for this deliciousness, though next time I think I'd zap the peas in the microwave to get them really soft before giving them a whirl in the food processor (theirs looks much more green velvet than mine, and I can only guess it's because of softer peas).

The wine: a crisp gruner veltliner from the Wachau region in Austria. It's specifically from the Nikolaihof vineyards, where I visited during my quarter abroad in Vienna; I actually squealed when I discovered the new wine shop near us carried it.

Best part? Tons of leftovers for the tot dinner the next day. 

Except for the wine. That's mama's.

Zut alors!

I've been enamored by all things ohh la la since the fifth grade, when I reluctantly chose France for my oral report on a foreign country. (I'd wanted to do Italy, but Matt Hackett - who I still don't believe is even Italian - got there first by virtue of his name coming before mine alphabetically. Anyway.) We also had to bring in a sample of native cuisine, and my mom suggested I take a baguette, European butter, and some Bonne Maman strawberry preserves. I remember trying it and thinking: nothing is ever going to taste better than this. It's still one of my favorite snacks, and in my head, France equals good bread.

So when I read in the New York Times yesterday that there's been a steady decline in bread consumption throughout Paris, I was both shocked and amused. No more bread?! But of course, the French are on it; there's now a government campaign to remind citizens to buy their beloved pain. It's all about how bread is good for you and can help you avoid weight gain! However, many top bakers are against the campaign because they feel that buying bread should feel special, not part of a daily routine as the ads imply. They insist, and I agree, that bread should equal pleasure. J'adore the French, and this is why.

And this.
And this.
Oh, and this.

But mostly this.