![]() ![]() Sarah Lyall, writing in The New York Times Book Review, has me excited for Daniel Kraus’s novel “ Whalefall.” Now, it’s a considerable distance from anything to do with turmeric or veal, but I’ve been enjoying “ Winning Time: The Rise of the Lakers Dynasty,” on Max. ![]() ![]() Or you can write to me if you’d like to get something off your chest, or simply say hello: I can’t respond to every letter. Please reach out for help if you run into problems with our technology: Someone will get back to you. If you haven’t taken one out already, I hope you will subscribe today. Subscriptions support our work and make it possible to continue. There are thousands and thousands more recipes to cook this weekend waiting for you on New York Times Cooking, though you need a subscription to read them. A lunchtime sandwich to follow? Sure: deli turkey on a roll, with Swiss cheese, coleslaw and a Russian dressing of mayonnaise cut with ketchup, sour cream, relish and hot sauce.Īnd then, after a nap, I’ll make Sunday supper: shrimp and grits in keeping with the season, alongside another Michelada and the realization that summer, for all its troubles, is the greatest time of the year. Then pancakes on Sunday morning, with maple syrup and a scattering of blueberries, thick-cut bacon and strong, milky tea. Tomato tonnato for dinner, with spicy corn on the cob with miso butter and chives? Yes. I’ll take today’s to Great Kills on Staten Island, and eat it while watching ospreys soar. I ate mine in a cubicle her sandwich took me to Sheep Meadow in Central Park, to a stretch of beach at Jacob Riis Park, to the peak of Mount Monadnock. Tejal did that one day a few years ago, wrapping the sandwiches in wax paper and bringing them to the office as if she were taking them to a picnic. I’ll rise early Saturday to make a lunchtime version of Tejal Rao’s recipe for fried chicken biscuits with hot honey butter. That and a peach cobbler for dessert? This will be a weekend for the record books. The tacos make me feel content, as if all the possibilities in the world are in front of me and ready for the taking, a turnaround jump shot. That drink makes me feel like Travis McGee aboard the Busted Flush, slip F-18 at the Bahia Mar marina in Fort Lauderdale. And I like my Micheladas cold - the beer stored in the freezer so that it’s flecked with the beginnings of ice, then served over actual ice so that it smokes a little in the humidity while the glass around it sweats. I deploy a healthy splash of Clamato juice, rim my glass with Tajín and add a few splashes of hot sauce and Worcestershire. You may make your Micheladas simply, as Rebekah Peppler does, with just lime and salt. It is the highest of summer where I am, torpor is afoot, and all I want to do is bubble some birria de res (above) on the stove in advance of a dinner of tacos and Micheladas. These are the days of miracle and wonder, Paul Simon sings through the device on the counter. ![]()
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