June heralds the long-awaited introduction to summer’s bounty, with newly harvested vegetables and stone fruits arriving each week at the farmers’ market. Look for a rainbow of crunchy sweet bell peppers; perfect little beets; baby leeks; new red onions; berries of every persuasion; tree-ripened apricots (be still, my heart!); plump cherries;  juicy melons; and the first peaches and nectarines of the season. You’ll also see mounds of just-picked summer squash, and—when we’re lucky—delicate zucchini blossoms just begging for a quick dip in a lacy tempura-style batter.

The generic term “squash” covers two very different vegetables. Winter squash, i.e., hard-skinned varieties like acorn, butternut, Kabocha, and pumpkin, store well and tide us through the colder months. Once warm weather returns, thin-skinned summer squash comes into season, i.e., the ubiquitous zucchini and its many kin, like yellow crookneck squash, golden zucchini, the round Eight Ball, and the pale green or yellow disk-shaped pattypan with scalloped edges.

Unlike their cold-weather cousins, summer squash is both easy to prepare and quick to cook. Steamed, sautéed, grilled, broiled, baked, braised, microwaved, stuffed, breaded and fried, tucked into omelets or frittatas, added to stews, pickled, or simply eaten raw, summer squash is a deliciously economical addition to everything from appetizers, soups and salads to desserts. (Shredded raw summer squash stirred into a muffin, cake, or quick bread batter provides extra moisture as well as nutrients…and manages to dupe unsuspecting vegi-phobes of all ages.)

As any home gardener knows, summer squash plants are zealously prolific.  Oversleep one warm summer morning and you’ll end up with zucchini the size of a zeppelin. (You know, like the ones your neighbors try to unload on you.) But bigger is not always better in the vegetable world. These oversized squash are flavorless or—worse yet—bitter; with unpalatably large seeds and a  tough, watery, or spongy texture. Nor should you let those limp, overblown batons of out-of-season blandness found at supermarkets throughout the year influence your opinion of this entire species. Shopping at the farmers’ market ensures you will find only young, tender vegetables with creamy flesh and a distinctively mild, slightly nutty flavor. Summer squash the way it’s supposed to taste. At its peak of perfection.

The following recipe was inspired by one that appeared on the outstanding web site, www.food52.com. I love the combination of sweet-sour-salty-spicy-crunchy flavors, all punctuated with the heady perfume of fresh mint. Best of all, it tastes as good at room temperature as it does fresh off the stove.

Summer Squash with Toasted Almonds and Fresh Mint

Although this is just about perfect as is, for variation I sometimes swap fresh basil for the mint, or crumbled soft goat cheese for the Asiago.

1/3 cup sliced California almonds
1-1/2 pounds mixed small zucchini and yellow summer squash
4 tablespoons California olive oil
Salt
1/4 teaspoon crushed hot red pepper flakes, or more to taste
1 tablespoon granulated sugar
1 tablespoon sherry wine vinegar
1/3 cup (packed) fresh mint leaves, cut into thin strips
1 small chunk of aged hard cheese, such as Asiago or Parmesan

In a small dry skillet, toast the almonds over medium heat, stirring often and watching carefully, until just fragrant and very lightly browned, 3 to 5 minutes. Set aside to cool.

1. Cut the zucchini and squash crosswise into pieces about 1-inch thick.
2. In a large sauté pan or skillet, warm about 3 tablespoons of olive oil over medium-high heat until very hot but not smoking. Working in batches if needed, add the squash without crowding and increase the heat to high. Season with salt and pepper flakes and cook, stirring and tossing frequently, until the squash is just tender and nicely browned on the edges, 3 to 5 minutes.
1. Reduce the heat to medium. Sprinkle the sugar and vinegar over the top and cook, stirring, until the sugar has melted, about 1 minute. Remove from the heat. Taste, adding more salt if necessary. Just before serving, stir in the reserved almonds and mint and drizzle with the remaining 1 tablespoon of oil. Use a vegetable peeler to shave cheese over the top. Serve warm or at room temperature. Serves 4 to 6.

­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­Stalking the Wild Zucchini

–Summer squashes are actually gourds harvested at an immature age, while their skins and seeds are still edible.

–California is second only to Florida in summer squash production.

–Look for zucchini that is no larger than 5 inches in length or 1 1/4 inches in diameter. The skin should appear firm, slightly glossy, and free of nicks, shriveling, or any soft spots.

–Store summer squash, unwashed, in an open plastic bag in the crisper drawer of your refrigerator for up to 5 days. Baby varieties are more perishable, and should be used within 2 days.

–One cup of chopped raw zucchini contains about 20 calories, 0 grams of fat; 12 mg sodium; 2 grams protein; 4 carbs; plus vitamins A and C, and small amounts of calcium and iron.

Late spring marks the start of stone fruit season. (So-called because these fruits contain a single pit, or “stone.”)  First come cherries and then apricots, followed by peaches, nectarines, plums, and all their various hybrids. Unlike the tasteless, mealy imports found in supermarkets, your farmers’ market carries tree-ripened, locally grown fruit—just the way nature intended. One juicy bite and you’ll be hooked. I promise.

Cherry season starts off slowly with the arrival of the Black Tartarian and Burlat; followed by the blushing yellow Royal Anne and Rainier. Sour cherries, like the Montmorency or Morello are primarily grown outside of California, and valued mostly for pies, jam, and for drying. Most agree the West’s dark, sweet, meaty Bing is the quintessential cherry, followed closely by Lamberts and Vans.     

Long before it was known as a search engine, Bing was just a cherry. (And, of course, a famous crooner.) A cross between the Tartarian and Royal Anne, the Bing was developed in Oregon in 1875 by Seth Lewalling. Legend has it that because he didn’t have enough money to pay his Chinese cook’s wages, he named the new cherry after him.

Here are some helpful cherry factoids:

–Cherries should be shiny, plump, and firm.

–A green stem is an indicator of a just-picked cherry.

–Refrigerate cherries, unwashed, in an open plastic bag. It’s best to eat them within several days of purchase.

–Cherries-on-the-stem tend to last longer.

–Cherries contain vitamin C, and about 87 calories per cup.

–Cherry juice can stain your hands, so you may want to wear latex gloves—and an apron—while pitting them.

–A cherry-pitter is an inexpensive kitchen tool that makes the job a breeze. (It works a bit like a paper punch, forcing the pit out of the cherry.) Lacking one, just use the tip of a small, sharp knife.

Though not much can beat a cherry eaten out of hand, it’s fun to use them in unexpected ways. Act quickly, though, for cherry season is short but sweet…about 3 1/2 weeks, to be exact.

Spice things up: Transform pitted cherries into a zesty salsa by adding finely chopped red or green onion; minced jalapeño chile pepper; finely grated fresh ginger; coarsely chopped cilantro or mint; a tiny drizzle of olive oil, a pinch of salt; and fresh lemon or lime juice, to taste. Serve alongside pork or poultry; with a gooey jack cheese quesadilla; or for dipping tortilla chips.

Sweeten things up: Jazz up your favorite upside-down cake, substituting pitted fresh cherry and apricot halves for the usual canned fruit. To preserve stemmed pitted cherries for baking year ‘round, flash-freeze them on a baking sheet until firm; then pack into freezer-safe bags or plastic containers. Use frozen.

Late Spring Fruit Salad: In a bowl, toss together stemmed, pitted, and halved cherries; cubes of ripe cantaloupe; pitted apricot halves (or quarters, if large); a pinch of salt; a splash of sweet white wine; and a few fresh mint leaves, cut into thin strips.

Salad Days: Grill a well-seasoned skirt or flank steak until nicely charred on the outside and pink in the middle. While the meat rests on a cutting board, make a mustardy balsamic vinaigrette. In a bowl, combine young arugula leaves and stemmed, pitted, and halved cherries; drizzle with just enough vinaigrette to coat lightly, and toss gently to mix. Spread the salad over a large platter. Cut the beef across the grain into thin slices and arrange on top of the salad. Top with crumbled blue or goat cheese, and a few toasted almonds. Serve with warm crusty bread.

Gilding the Lily: Add fresh cherries to your favorite chicken salad or rice pudding; layer them in trifles, or bake the classic French clafoutis. Pile fresh cherries on a cheese platter; or build an adult-ice cream sundae by first macerating cherries in kirsch, brandy, or amaretto. (Heat the fruit topping, and you’ve got Cherries Jubilee.) Or mix them into slightly-softened vanilla ice cream, with or without shards of semisweet chocolate, for a home-style take on one of the country’s favorite ice cream flavors.

For an elegant ending to a meal, rinse perfect ripe cherries and pat them dry. Working one at a time and holding each by the stem, dip the cherries in melted dark or white chocolate and transfer to a parchment-lined baking sheet; then refrigerate until the chocolate coating is firm. (This is an especially charming presentation for “twins”—2 cherries joined at the stem.) Just be sure to warn your guests these cherry-chocolate bonbons contain pits.) 

Savoring the Moment: Forget those scary iridescent cherries sold in jars and make your own boozy ones to garnish cocktails or desserts. For each pint jar you’ll need about 1 pound of fresh cherries. Rinse them well and pat dry; pit them or not, as you like. (If you don’t pit them, prick each cherry 2 or 3 times so the liquor will penetrate the fruit.) Pack cherries into a sterilized jar, cover with bourbon, rye, brandy, kirsch, or Maraschino liqueur, and refrigerate. When all the cherries have been eaten, mix the remaining alcohol in cocktails.

I always seem to have a package of frozen peas in my freezer “for an emergency.” And I think the last time I used them was indeed an emergency—when I needed an ice pack to soothe a grandson’s skinned knee.

There’s nothing wrong with eating frozen peas, of course. They are one of those vegetables that freeze pretty well. I just never seem to find an occasion to serve them; preferring, instead, to eat what is fresh and in season. Frozen peas are good for emergencies. Fresh peas are good to eat.  

If you question whether there is really that much of a difference in flavor and texture, this is the month to find out once and for all. Spring is bursting through at the farmers’ market, and winter veggies are on the way out. Asparagus, artichokes, peas, fava beans—this kaleidoscope of green is nature’s sneak preview of all the wonderful things ahead.

After stocking up at the farmers’ market on sunny April mornings, I’m often inspired to continue the pace. Blame it on the mounds of fragrant strawberries, the tender little greens, or the riot of spring flowers available, but I want all of that beauty to follow me home.

More often than not I’ll toss my purchases in a cooler in the trunk of my car and spend the rest of the afternoon combing through local (and not-so-local) nurseries, buying up colorful annuals to perk up my patio garden. And getting more pricey landscaping ideas than I’ll ever put to use.

Although I consider this a perfectly legit way to while away the hours, it doesn’t leave a lot of time to make dinner when I get home. In fact, my ideal Saturday family dinner usually involves uncomplicated, comforting foods that are already in my refrigerator or pantry. (Or trunk.) A yummy meal prepared on the fly. Preferably while wearing high heels.

Here’s a speedy one-pot recipe that combines a vegetable and starch in one delish dish. Serve it alongside grilled wild salmon, and dinner is done. For dessert? Sliced farm-fresh strawberries, with or without a scoop of vanilla frozen yogurt. Spring at its finest. And prepared in a flash.

Fresh Peas with New Potatoes and Mint

8 ounces tiny red or white new potatoes, scrubbed clean*
1-1/2 cups shelled fresh peas (1 1/2 pounds peas in the pod)
1/4 cup water
Salt
4 tablespoons (1/2 stick) unsalted butter, cut into 4 pieces
1 1/2 tablespoons chopped fresh mint leaves
Freshly ground pepper

In a large saucepan, cook the potatoes in boiling salted water over medium-high heat until tender when pierced with the tip of a sharp knife, 10 to 15 minutes. Discard the cooking water, but don’t bother to rinse out the pot. Drain the potatoes in a colander.

In the same saucepan, combine the peas, water, about 1/4 teaspoon salt, and 1 tablespoon of the butter. Cover and cook over medium-high heat until the peas are barely tender and turn bright green, 2 to 3 minutes. 

Add the warm potatoes and the remaining butter. Cook uncovered, shaking the pan gently, until the butter melts and becomes creamy and sauce-like, 1 to 2 minutes longer. Taste, seasoning with salt and pepper as needed. Stir in the mint and serve at once.

Serves 4.

*If you have only larger potatoes on hand, cut them into 1-inch chunks.

Pea Primer 

–There are basically two kinds of peas: English peas (aka common garden peas) that must be shelled to eat the “seeds” inside; and snow peas and sugar snap peas, which have edible pods. Sugar snap peas are plump; while snow peas—a favorite in Chinese cuisine—are flat.

–Although there are “string-less” sugar snap peas on the market now, most other varieties have a tough string running along the length of the pod. To remove it, snap off the leaf end and pull down on the string. (This is a mindless chore best done while watching television or staring into space. Ditto for shelling fresh English peas.)

–Like corn, the sugars contained within peas convert to starch shortly after harvesting, so it’s best to buy them fresh at the farmers’ market and eat them as soon as possible.

–Easy does it! An over-cooked pea is a sorry thing. Strictly speaking, peas do not require cooking—though giving them a quick sauté or blanch in boiling water will intensify their color and mellow their flavor ever so slightly.

–One of my favorite go-to salad/side dishes comes from Ina Garten, and requires absolutely no cooking: Trim the ends from sugar snap peas, and remove strings if needed. Toss the uncooked sugar snaps with barely enough Asian sesame oil to coat lightly. (Be miserly here. Don’t think of the oil as “salad dressing;” add only enough to make the peas glisten.) Sprinkle with toasted white or black sesame seeds and serve at room temperature. You will be amazed.

– Regardless of which variety you buy, always inspect the packaging: look for plump, glossy green pea pods, crisp and free of blemishes. 

–Peas taste best when eaten the same day they were picked. When that is not possible, store them in an open plastic bag in the crisper drawer of the refrigerator.

–Pea Arithmetic: one pound of English peas-in-the-pod yields 1 cup of shelled peas.