Good morning. There’s always something celebratory about Memorial Day weekend, even though it’s meant to be a somber affair, honoring those who have given their lives in service to the nation. We raise our flags high, but also our grilling tools, our string lights over the yard (or around the railings of the fire escape), our hopes for a long, pleasant summer.
To eat: grilled chicken wings with ranch dressing (above) and cold sticks of celery, carrot batons, halved cherry tomatoes. Make plenty of ranch: as a dip for chips and pizza crusts, a dressing for wedges of iceberg lettuce, as a base for potato salad. Also: burgers smashed flat on a cast-iron pan set over the grill, hot dogs with pico de gallo, grilled asparagus, brats, hot slaw and strawberry spoon cake for dessert.
Featured Recipe
Classic Ranch Dressing
You could freestyle, too, and cook without recipes, as we all ought to do more often as the lessons of recipes reward our attention with confidence. Say, a kale salad dressed in egg yolks whipped with olive oil and a little mustard, lots of lemon juice for sunniness, salt and pepper, with clumps of soft cheese, croutons, dried cherries, roasted cashews and chunks of apricot. You want the dressing emulsified, on the thicker end of runny, and all of the other ingredients in balance. You’ll figure it out. It’s great with steak, fried chicken cutlets or all on its own.
Maybe some shrimp tacos as well? (With guacamole? Sure!) Jerk chicken with pickled bananas? Grilled tofu salad? Definitely some buttermilk pancakes for breakfast on one of the days, and a mortadella sandwich with ricotta and pistachio pesto to follow a few hours later. The point, on a long weekend that heralds the start of a new season, is to cook with the intention of delivering pleasure as much as sustenance, to celebrate the delicious even as we honor those who have made delicious possible.
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Now, it’s nothing to do with fresh peas or a crown roast of pork, but I fell upon the Australian novelist Peter Temple’s 1996 novel “Bad Debts,” the first in his four-part mystery series about a lawyer named Jack Irish, and I’m glad I did. It begins: “I found Edward Dollery, age 47, defrocked accountant, big spender and dishonest person, living in a house rented in the name of Carol Pick. It was in a new brick-veneer suburb built on cow pasture east of the city, one of those strangely silent developments where the average age is 12 and you can feel the pressure of the mortgages on your skin.” Onward!
A must-read: Dan Barry, in The Times, on the misery and disappearance of a mentally ill young man named Thomas Rath, in Ithaca, N.Y.
Also: Hanif Abdurraqib in conversation with André 3000, in The Bitter Southerner.
Finally, it’s the birthday of the king of ska, Prince Buster, who died in 2016 at 78. Here’s his “Al Capone,” music for grilling. Listen to that and I’ll see you on Sunday.
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