How hot is it?
It’s so hot today that when I cross my legs, one slides off the other. It’s so hot today that I walked away from an argument I could have won. It’s so hot today that I almost don’t want to eat. Almost.
Greek salad to the rescue. Until five years ago I was severely averse to feta, but then I did what my mother never could do: convinced myself to try it. I loved it. Since then, I’ve incorporated the previously maligned cheese into pastas, omelettes, sandwiches, and my famous summer salad.
Friends have called me a genius after tasting this:
With a sharp knife, cut tomato, cucumber, red bell pepper, and yes, iceberg lettuce into chunks. The proportions are your call, but I tend to go light on the tomatoes. Add as much flat leaf parsley as you can take, a few sundried black olives per person, and a scattering of crumbled, creamy feta. I like Bulgarian feta.
Toss at the last minute with a vinaigrette made from lemon, olive oil, dijon, salt and pepper, a scant bit of honey. For a meal-in-one, add chunks of stale bread and some oil-packed tuna.
Chase with a popsicle and a cold shower.