Flavors of summertime
Jul 15, 2009 |
Image: laurie v. carlson
Memories of summer and food are enough to make any crank’s heart soften like ice cream on a hot day. Voices take on a wistful tone as friends recall hot dogs and corn-on-the-cob on the grill beside the slip ‘n’ slide, s’mores and hobo packs (chunks of meat, potatoes and veggies wrapped in foil and thrown in the fire) during summer camp, strawberry shortcakes and milkshakes after a beach excursion.
But wait a minute, isn’t thinking of summer foods in Hawaii a somewhat contrived exercise? I mean, these memories of childhood summer vacations could just as easily be lifted from a winter day in Hawaii. In our tropical climate, the sun shines most days of the year, seasons appear non-existent (to newcomers anyway), and grilling, usually reserved for summertime on the mainland, is a year-round activity. Produce like tomatoes and corn, which in some places signal summertime as much as the last day of school does, seem to have no seasonal confines here.
No matter. Giving into the lure of nostalgia surrounding summer is as easy and blissful as relaxing into a hammock under a palm tree. And I only have to look at the branches of lychees strung up around Chinatown to remember there are indeed seasons here, even if it’s only lychee season and non-lychee season. To those who still insist we don’t have seasons, I think back to this past winter that had me in thick sweaters craving the warm comfort of soups, stews and spicy curries, and just a few weeks ago when record highs had me making meals out of shave ice, relying on mango sugar syrup for my daily nutrients.
Even with our ability to ship produce from the ends of the earth, there are still foods that we can only get during the summer, or that taste infinitely better this time of year. And then there are the foods that I just crave on a hot day. A few of my favorite summer things:
Hot dogs
Among the obvious summer foods–hamburgers, barbecue and anything grilled–are hot dogs. Even though we can–and do–eat hot dogs year-round, they’re still an integral part of summer, even if it’s only for a marketing scheme, like chocolates for Valentine’s Day. Marketing works because it speaks to desires we never knew we had. So for the special occasion of summer, I forgo my Costco hotdog and treat myself to Hank’s Haute Dogs. But summer usually speaks to simplicity, so I forgo the fancy homemade dogs made of lobster or duck and foie gras, and go for the all-beef hot dog, but load up on the condiments, Chicago-style. This means tomatoes, green relish, a pickle spear, sport peppers and a sprinkle of celery salt. Now take me out to the ballgame…or more likely, the cool, air-conditioned movie theater of a summer blockbuster.
Cold noodles
If I had to pick one food to eat for the rest of my life, it might be noodles (cheating, I confess, given that so many cultures make delicious noodles). At Goma Tei, I love their hot soup noodles as much as I love their cold noodles, so I just let the weather dictate my choice. These days, that means ordering the Chicken Cold Noodle–velvety poached chicken, sliced over julienned cucumbers and ice-chilled noodles accompanied with a shoyu sauce fragrant with sesame. The freshly made soba noodles at Inaba Restaurant are also my hot weather respite. Here, buckwheat noodles can be ordered in a cold soup that takes the place of the usual tsuyu dipping sauce. For the Nametake Oroshi Soba, peppery grated radish and sweet-salty marinated mushrooms on soba perk up a palate languishing in the heat.
Shave ice
Shave ice is a year-round treat here, but never is it more appreciated than summertime, when it cools like the heavier ice creams never could. Waiola Shave Ice is a reliable standby, especially for the azuki bowl with mochi balls. If I’m going to be making meals out of shave ice, the azuki beans provide my protein and the chewy, sweet mochi balls help the experience last longer. But my new favorite for shave ice is Your Kitchen, with its homemade syrups and super-soft, fine ice that melts quickly in the mouth, leaving only the memory of cold and pure taste of mango (or blue and red “flavor,” if you’re my husband). Molecular gastronomy’s got nothing on this textural flavor wonder.
Produce
Sure, Hawaii grows tomatoes year-round, but tomatoes in the summer are sweeter, more flavorful, and with only a light brush of the skin or vine with your fingertips, leave a fragrance that have me lusting for the farm childhood I never had. Tomatoes this luscious can be eaten sliced with just a sprinkling of salt and pepper, or between two slices of white bread smeared with mayo. Or another summer favorite: blended into a gazpacho, which unfortunately is rarely seen on menus here. The closest is The Pineapple Room by Alan Wong’s cold tomato soup, which is sweet and lightly acidic, rounded with olive oil, and silky smooth.
In the tropical fruit department, mangoes (which actually have two seasons, but seem to be the most abundant in the summer) and lychees speak of summer. Lychees are one of the few fruits that you actually can’t seem to get at any other time except during the too brief months of summer. Before I dig into the first fruits of the season, I often wonder if they’re a case of absence makes the mouth grow fonder, until I peel away the pebbly red skin and bite into the almost translucent, white flesh that tastes of summer anticipation.
But to me, the essence of summer is found in the watermelon. I love the crackle of the watermelon as the knife enters the rind, the cold, crisp, sweet, red flesh, the mess in burying your face in a half-moon slice. I could finish an entire four-pound watermelon in a single afternoon. It speaks to what summer’s all about–excess, gorging yourself on all that’s beautiful and delicious in the season, from food to sun to play, and savoring the memories for the rest of the year.
