Adios Verano

How could it be over so quickly? It was already dark when I emerged from the subway last night. It was only 7:30pm. Two days ago, I left for work a little earlier than normal in the morning and that very particular smell hung in the air. Instead of the air being heavy with the impending humidity of the day, it was the crisp, cool mustiness of fall that rushed my nostrils. Part of me is seduced by the idea of brisk nights spent with apple cider spiked with bourbon and cinnamon, creamy pumpkin pie, and roasted poultry stuffed and rubbed with copious sage. There’s something appealing about dragging out that box of sweaters, scarves, and furry boots and dusting them off while tossing all these boring tank tops and tattered flip flops back into storage.

Now wait one minute here, let’s not get in some sort of poached pear and spiced cream induce autumnal daze. Sure we’ve had three solid months of hot, sticky, sweltering heat here in the Northeast. We may be sick of the putrid heat on the subway platforms, our tired summer uniforms of jean shorts and scant tops, the stomach churning change from sauna to icebox of central air, and our astronomical Coned bills because of those damned window air-conditioning units. . .but don’t tell me you’ve forgotten what we lose at the end of summer. I know I, for one, will pine for ragtag picnics at outdoor movies, guilty street fair pleasures like charred corn and dripping gyros, and fruity slushy drinks at the beach. I don’t know about you, but I think I can choke down a few more ears of sweet corn, and I know for certain I have not had even close to my fill of honeyed-juice-running-down-your-chin peaches or warm perfect field tomatoes.

At least for a week or so, I plan to cling desperately to summer and make the best of it, at least culinarily speaking. I am not ready to start braising and roasting. The pumpkins and pears can wait. So join me in a dish that celebrates both the best of the season (fresh produce, bright flavors) and makes the best of the worst of it (no need to turn on a stove or oven).

Shrimp Ceviche

Ceviche is a traditional Latin American seafood dish. It’s light, fresh, and lively, perfect at the height of a sweltering summer. The citrus juice in ceviche denatures the proteins or “cooks” them in fruit acid without the use of heat. When making ceviche with less dense seafood like bay scallops or white fish (red snapper, Chilean sea bass, halibut, etc.) there is no need to pre-poach the seafood; cut in small pieces the seafood will “cook” thoroughly in the citrus juice. Shrimp, however, are dense, and it is wise to pre-poach them briefly before they marinate.

1 lb Fresh Shrimp, peeled and deveined leaving the tails attached

3/4 cup diced fresh jicama, 1/4 inch pieces

1/2 cup finely chopped red onion

3/4 cup diced pineapple, 1/4 inch pieces

1/2 c fresh squeezed lime juice

1 lime, cut in half, not juiced

1/2 c fresh squeezed lemon juice

1/2 c finely chopped fresh cilantro

1 T very finely chopped fresh jalapeño, ribs and seeds removed

2 avocados, diced into 1/4 inch pieces

1 T salt for ceviche, 2 T salt for poaching water

For Serving: Extra jicama thinly sliced into planks or Blue or Yellow Tortilla Chips

Bring a large pot with approx. 1 gallon of water to boil with 1 lime cut in half and squeezed into the water (put the squeezed rind in the water as well) and 2 T salt. Reduce the water to a slow simmer and add the shrimp. Poach for 40 seconds (do not overcook) and remove them to a bowl full of ice water to stop the cooking immediately. Drain the shrimp, remove the tails, and dice them in 1/4 inch pieces. The shrimp should look underdone in the middle, as they will finish “cooking” in the citrus juices. Put the shrimp in a non-reactive (not aluminum or copper) bowl with the lemon and lime juice, cover with plastic wrap and refrigerate for 30 minutes. After 30 minutes, add all of the rest of the ingredients (including the 1 T salt) except the avocado and refrigerate for at least 30 minutes and up to 2 hours. Just before serving, gently fold the avocado into the mixture. Serve the ceviche on Tortilla Chips or thin slices of jicama as hors d’oeuvres or by itself for a light, refreshing lunch.