In Tuesday's "" newsletter I wrote the following: The home stretch of summer probably isn't the most innovative time of the year when it comes to cooking. It's hot, we're not trying to expend too much energy in the kitchen, and, given the amount of insanely great produce at our disposal, there's not that much incentive to turn off auto-pilot: Tomato, mozz and basil; gazpacho; grilled vegetables; something with pesto; a fresh peach with nothing; rinse and repeat.
I stand by that statement, as well as the subsequent suggestion that it can be nice to mix things up a bit. But then I started thinking about singling out gazpacho as part of the cooking routine we slide into every summer. It's a staple for a reason: It's ridiculously fast and easy to make (basically a dinner smoothie) and usually doesn't involve heat (a bonus in hot weather). Plus, it's flexible; so much so that you could easily make gazpacho every week for the entire summer and never have it the same way twice.
Long story short, it struck me that gazpacho probably deserves its own newsletter. Even though there's only a month left in summer, it's a hot month, and I figured that some new spins on this standby dish might not be such a bad thing. So, here's Gazpacho, 12 Ways. The "recipes" (they're really just ingredient lists with some overarching instructions for buzzing them all together with a blender or food processor) are divided into two brilliant categories: green and red. I included the classic version for good measure, but most of them are a little quirky, like Thai Melon or Romesco-Style. Just consider this an extension of Tuesday's invitation to ever so slightly shake things up. Take ten minutes to try one out, see if it deserves a spot in your summer rotation, and have a wonderful weekend.
The “recipes” here (a few of which take some artistic license with the term “gazpacho”) amount to little more than lists of ingredients and quantities because the method doesn’t bear repeating twelve times: combine everything in a blender or food processor, process to your desired texture, chill in the refrigerator if you like, garnish, and eat.
Talk To Me, Goose!
Questions, comments, brilliant suggestions? Just want to share the recipe for your grandma's potato salad, or your mom's meatloaf, or your uncle Drew's three-day 100-percent rye loaf (yes, please)? Don't hesitate to reach out anytime.