The arrival of certain vegetables marks the passage of the year as clearly as the turning pages of a calendar. The first bunches of asparagus, the early strawberries and runner beans, the green and cream stripes of the marrow all signpost the changing seasons for the cook. I spotted the first of the really big marrows, and even a small pumpkin the other day. I still see the real whoppers as a gardener's careless mistake, (the vigilant will have picked them as finger-length zucchini). But I will at least eat marrow now. Just so long as you don't even think of stuffing its watery flesh with minced meat, but serve it instead floured and lightly fried in butter and olive oil and alongside a tomato sauce into which you have stirred at least a squirt of harissa, the hot and spicy Moroccan chilli paste.
Each morning I go out to check on the progress of the little zucchini that have flowered in my garden for the last two months. Great golden flowers, like birds with their beaks open begging for food, seem to pop open overnight. Sometimes they sport a fruit, sometimes they don't. If there is no sign of a swollen fruit under the flower then I cut them and batter them lightly - any tempura recipe will do. Batter as light as a feather and my only nod to deep frying.
Of all the offerings on the groaning vegetable stalls, sweetcorn will be the first into the pot. There is nothing else you devour the way you do a corn cob. Nothing much is likely to so cover your lips, chin and arms in melted butter. Am I the only person who is cursing the new super-sweet varieties? I want my sweetcorn to taste of itself, not purely of sugar. The last three I have eaten have been like sucking a sugar lump. If, as they say, the sweetness disappears by the minute once the corn cob is harvested then I would hate to eat these intruders straight from the field.
Wooden crates of plums, green and gold Czar, purple-black Marjories Seedling and the common or garden Victoria, also mark summer's slow descent into autumn. They replace the cherries which have gone till next June. First plums through the door will end up as crumble - there is no finer fruit for it save the gooseberry - and after that there will be pie. A rare treat will be a plum good enough to eat raw, as dessert. Look for one that is red and gold and almost incandescent. The Opal variety I mentioned last month is probably at its best now.
But I am getting ahead of myself, there are still strawberries, the late varieties such as Everest and the heady Autumn Bliss raspberries. Either one will make a remarkable salad with some chunks of Charentais melon. Time to gorge ourselves on their nectar-laden flesh with blackberry and Honeydew salad; silky slices of coppa di Parma with orange-fleshed Cantaloupe; watermelon and feta salad.
For all our tinkering I am not sure the world has yet mastered growing the apricot. It is a difficult fruit. Still too many turn out woolly and dry. When you do finally find one that is full of joy it is well worth the wait, the flesh melting and sweet. A rare treat but one to savour. The French ones around now are worth a try.
The native oyster season starts here. Celebrate by arming yourself with half a dozen as soon as you see them, open half a bottle of very cold Muscadet and scoff the lot. The surest legal way I know of cheering myself up. Don't forget the other fish too. Eel, grey and red mullet and mussels will make a fine late summer soup, especially if you warm its depths with saffron and offer a spot of spicy garlic rouille and some crisp toasts. Hake is looking good right now, bake it in the Spanish style with a sauce of its own juices and lots of parsley. This is one fish that has never really made it with British cooks. I just don't see why. It's meaty, clean tasting and handles well.
It doesn't feel right to be tucking into game just yet. A pigeon is probably what I feel most like at the moment. The meat is lean and sweet and tender enough to roast. I would seal them in hot fat, wrap each bird in fatty bacon or pancetta and roast till tender. Redcurrant jelly and a few buttered mushrooms would be the only accompaniments. Autumn evenings make me pine even more than usual for cheese. The Taleggio, with its soft almost brie-like texture and milky, mushroomy flavour is pretty high on my wish list. Most time it gets eaten with a new apple, (the Worcesters are pretty fine this month, and look out for the sweet Katy) but it can be diverted to the kitchen too. Try it cut in thin slices and laid over halved, boiled new potatoes, then grilled till the cheese bubbles. Other cheeses to look out for this month are a really fine brie. Have you ever tried it with a truly ripe and juicy peach? The sweet fruitiness flatters the cheese more than you might expect.
I am not quite in baking mode yet, but it won't be long. Until then I shall content myself with all those fruit-based American puddings such as cobblers and crisps. Plums are the stars here as are blueberries, bilberries and blackberries. An American 'crisp' is similar to our crumble but with a pinch of cinnamon and nutmeg. A 'cobbler' is rather like a crumble but with a scone-type topping (try: 185g plain flour, 80g butter, 2 tbsp sugar, a pinch of salt and 1.5 tsp baking powder rubbed together then mixed to a soft scone like dough with 125ml milk or half cream and half milk). Cut into rounds and bake on top of blueberries or stoned plums that you have tossed in a very little flour and sugar and wet with a few spoonfuls of water. Bake till the filling is bubbling and the cobbler is crisp. Oh, and you'll be needing some cream with that.
