This has been a bit of an off week. While Mike and I have quietly celebrated a few exciting developments in our lives, our happiness has been muted by some devastating news from good friends of ours. As I said to someone earlier this week, as fun as it can be to have friends and loved ones located all over the map, it’s hard to be so far away when something bad happens and you can’t rush over to provide the help, comfort and support you so desperately want to.

My heart has been heavy, my appetite dull, and I haven’t felt particularly inspired, but somehow last night I turned out something that I felt really proud of, a simple dish of favas and fregula that hit all the right notes and left me feeling, just for a while, a little lighter.

I cooked my shelled and peeled favas in olive oil with salt and a crumbled chile de arbol until they were bright green and tender, and set them aside while I worked on the fregula. I added a pinch of saffron to a pot of boiling chicken broth I had pulled from the freezer, salted it and added a squirt of tomato paste for color and richness, then added the fregula to cook. While it boiled and swelled, I tossed the favas with some chopped pickled scallions and some of my marinated grilled red peppers, giving the mixture a good slick of olive oil.

When the fregula had absorbed all of its cooking liquid I tossed it with the fava bean mixture, tossing in some chopped fresh parsley and adding a splash of sherry vinegar for brightness. I served it with crispy grilled smelts tossed with olive oil and smoked paprika, and while the combination was a good one, the fregula really stole the show. I suspect it would be great as a stand-alone dish.

Sure, I wait as anxiously for the first good summer tomatoes and sweet corn as much as the next guy, but I look forward to the arrival of fava beans at the farmers market more than anything else. There’s something beguiling about those curvy pods, something satisfying about slowly slipping the beans out and peeling off their little jackets (if you’re curious, I don’t blanch them before peeling – it has never made much sense to me, and doesn’t seem to save much time or effort).

I love eating them raw, with a bit of salt and lemon juice sprinkled on, or tossed on the grill whole until the pods are charred and smoky, but when I cook them indoors I try to keep things very simple, placing them into a pan with olive oil, some softened chopped shallot, a crumbled chile arbol (or chile flakes), and a sprig or two of herb like thyme or savory – a preparation which borrows heavily from Suzanne Goin’s prepararation in Sunday Suppers at Lucques.

I cooked these for just a few minutes, until they were bright green and buttery soft, then I tossed them with some hot cooked farro and a simple lemon vinaigrette. I had a small head of Treviso radicchio in the fridge, which I cut into ribbons and tossed in to add a nice bitter component, and I shaved plenty of sharp, salty Pecorino Romano over the top before serving. Though I didn’t think to do it last night, I suspect some toasted, chopped hazelnuts would have been a nice addition, providing a little bit of crunch.

This was one of those weekends that was kinda perfect. We had beautiful weather, great times with friends, and of course, great food.

There was so much to choose from at the farmers’ market Saturday morning, with corn, blueberries, potatoes and hardneck garlic all making their first appearance, and an abundance of favas, heirloom tomatoes, and other summer goodies, that it was very, very hard to exercise restraint, but we tried.

Okay, maybe we weren’t terribly successful, but hey – a good friend from New York was coming to town, so rather than meeting somewhere for dinner, we invited her over to help us work through some of our bounty.

This was one of the best things I ate all weekend. I love fava beans, and I’ve had my eye on a recipe in Sunday Suppers at Lucques for a while now – a puree of favas, served with feta and olives and garlicky toasts – so I put my own spin on it.

As Suzanne does, I gently stewed my shelled favas in olive oil with garlic and chile and summer savory in place of the rosemary in the original recipe, then I whizzed them in the food processor. My twist was to add a dollop of fresh ricotta in place of some of the olive oil, and instead of serving an olive-feta salad on top of the puree, I spread the mixture on grilled slices of Seven Stars’ olive stick and sprinkled a bit of flaky sea salt on top. Bliss.

Our main course was grilled lamb skewers with a lemon-garlic scape sauce for dipping, creamy white beans and heirloom tomatoes with feta and mint, all washed down with a smoky Spanish red.

Mike’s gearing up for Tales of the Cocktail later this week, and as such he has been mixing a lot of the classics, one of which was this delicious and incredibly refreshing Ramos Gin Fizz to go with our Sunday brunch of steak and eggs.

The thing about egg white drinks, though, is that you’re left with leftover yolks. But I couldn’t very well let these beauties go to waste. What to do…

I whisked those yolks and olive oil into an aioli, which became the base for a dressing for coleslaw, which as a general rule, I don’t like.

This time was different.

As Mike reminded me, cole slaw doesn’t *have* to be bad, it’s really all about using super fresh ingredients and making sure the veggies and dressing are in balance. Which I think I achieved. The slaw had a nice amount of crunch, and the dressing had a bit of richness from the aioli but was still light and zippy from the addition of fresh garlic, dijon mustard and champagne vinegar. It was good – surprisingly so – and as a matter of fact I just polished off a big helping for lunch. Yum.

A while back our friends Melissa and Derrick posted a photo and write-up of one of their dinners, mentioning that my writing about our day-to-day dining inspired them to do so. As you can imagine, I was flattered and delighted by this, but I also took away some inspiration of my own. You see, I have always been seduced by the lovely squash blossoms that show up in gardens and markets this time of year, but I have also felt very intimidated about cooking with them myself. I mentioned this to our friends, and with their encouragement I decided that I’d give it a shot. Am I ever I glad I did.

If you search the internet for fried squash blossom recipes, many of them look a little bit… futzy. Egg washes, breadcrumbs, milk, flour, batters with beer or without… I was worried that the flavor of the little blossoms would be overwhelmed by something so heavy. Derrick’s method was far simpler, and I think, superior: flour, buttermilk, flour then fry. This I could get behind.

I had a vacation day scheduled yesterday, so I decided to get a jump on the prep work. I trimmed the squash blossoms, opened them up and pulled out the little stamens, then set the cleaned blossoms aside. For the filling, I combined 2 oz. of crumbled soft goat cheese, 4 oz. of sheep’s milk ricotta, a pinch of salt and 2 tablespoons of finely chopped fresh chervil. Our blossoms were a little on the small side, so getting the stuffing in without cracking them on one side was a little tricky, but I pressed forward, first using a spoon to stuff then and finally just using my fingers. I placed a little bit of the stuffing inside each blossom, then twisted the ends closed and press them together. They didn’t all stay closed, but I figured I could try to re-seal them before battering and cooking them. I placed the stuffed blossoms on a platter, covered it with plastic wrap and set them in the fridge until I was ready to cook them.

The blossoms and filling firmed up nicely with those few hours of refrigeration, and when it was time to dip them in the flour and buttermilk, I was relieved to see that they held together well. I fried the blossoms in batches until they were golden, and then set them on a paper towel-lined platter to drain as they came out of the oil, sprinkling them with a little kosher salt while they were still hot.

While I heated the oil and worked on the frying, I had a second pan on the stove in which I put together a summer vegetable ragout. I chopped up six garlic scapes and sautéed them in a tablespoon of olive oil, and then added half a cup of white vermouth, a cup and a half of water, a teaspoon of kosher salt and a parmesan rind. After that simmered for 10-15 minutes, I removed the parmesan rind and added 1 1/2 cups of halved red and gold cherry tomatoes. I let them cook uncovered over low heat, stirring occasionally, and when the last of the squash blossoms was out of the oil, I added a mixture of blanched vegetables (peas, cranberry beans, green beans, favas) and herbs (flat-leaf parsley, tarragon, thyme, dill) to the tomato and parmesan broth. I let this cook for just a minute or so more, turned off the heat and ladled the vegetables and broth into bowls. I topped them with the crunchy squash blossoms, and our meal was ready to go.

The squash blossoms were delicious – perfectly crisp on the outside, the filling soft and delicate, and they provided a really nice counterpoint to the light, brothy vegetables. Mike had taken a cue from Derrick’s post as well and brought home a lovely Napa Valley Sauvignon Blanc to go with our meal. As we sipped our wine and ate, I thought how wonderful it is that food and drink have this great power to inspire, to bring people together across the miles. I felt a great sense of appreciation for the good food and drink in front of me but more importantly, I felt a great sense of appreciation for the good friends who inspired it.

Neither the meal nor the day turned out quite as I had hoped – Mother Nature interfered in a number of ways, beginning with the ill-timed disappearance of our resident mama cat and her consort (just before we were scheduled to take them in to be fixed), and culminating with the strange weather that blew through last evening. We wanted to grill, we kept checking the skies and the satellite maps hoping we could squeeze it in between bursts of rain and lightning, and when what we thought was a good opportunity came, we jumped. The chimney starter lit, coals glowing red, and wouldn’t you know it, we had to scurry back indoors as lightning flashed overhead. Maddening. But we had committed. Our fire burned strong through the burst of rain and when the clouds passed, we rushed to get our food on the grill.

We have been stockpiling Copper River salmon in our freezer so we can stretch out its short season, and I had thawed two filets for our meal. I seasoned them with nothing more than a healthy amount of kosher salt and some olive oil, and Mike grilled them skin side down over indirect heat for about 8-10 minutes.

I’ve been eager to try this recipe for grilled fava bean pods, so when Mike was able to get some on Monday, I earmarked them for this meal. We placed the whole fava bean pods on the hot side of the grill until they were charred, then I tossed them with olive oil, chile flakes and kosher salt. Somehow we were out of lemons (this never happens at our place), so I added a little bit of sherry vinegar for acidity, and I used chopped spring onion tops instead of the scallions called for in the original recipe. I tossed some baby wild arugula with a mustard vinaigrette to go along with the salmon and favas.

I was mostly pleased with this meal, though I do think we left the favas on the grill a couple of minutes too long. Some of the pods got really black and weren’t particularly tasty, though the ones that were less charred and still showed a bit of green were quite nice. The beans themselves were delicious, creamy with a smoky, nutty flavor. When we do this again, I think we’ll still char the whole pods, but then I’ll pop the beans out of the pods and toss them with the vinaigrette – it’s a nice combination of flavors.

I was absolutely delighted to get Mike’s email yesterday morning detailing his Greenmarket haul: “CHERVIL, cherry tomatoes, rainbow trout, garlic scapes, snap peas, shell peas” it read, and I knew immediately what I wanted to do with the bulk of it. I was home from work yesterday and had spent some time in the afternoon cleaning and blanching the peas and favas we had left over from Monday’s shopping, so I was already halfway there.

My thought was that I would slice up some baby fennel bulbs we had in the fridge and sauté them with some of the garlic scapes Mike brought home, and then add a splash of white vermouth, some lemon juice, a pinch of salt and the peas and favas. I’d stuff some chervil inside each of the trout, and chop a bit more of the chervil up along with tarragon, chives and parsley from our garden to finish the veggies.

Mike grilled the trout over indirect heat for about 5 minutes per side, and the veggies took just a few minutes to sauté. I stirred in the fines herbes off the heat just before I plated the veggies up, and then placed a whole trout on top. The rich flavor of the trout was a lovely match for the tender, aromatic veggie/herb blend.

A note about the trout: We get our trout from Max Creek Hatchery at the Union Square Greenmarket, and when Mike was there Wednesday morning, Dave Harris, the owner, told him that the only fresh trout he had available was his farmed rainbow trout because he had lost 600 brook trout to mink this week. This is obviously a big dent in his livelihood, so if you’re a fan of trout or would like to give it a try, please go see Dave at the Greenmarket next Wednesday and buy some of his excellent fresh or smoked trout.

Fresh fava beans are yet another item I have come to love and eagerly anticipate each year. As soon as I heard that they were showing up at the Greenmarket, I had Mike keep an eye out for them, and I was thrilled when he told me he snagged some.

Favas can be a little labor-intensive, as they have to be removed from their spongy pods and the individual beans peeled, but as with shelling peas, I don’t mind the work, and find the reward well worth it. Most people blanch the shelled favas before peeling off the skins, but I usually just peel them before cooking.

I ended up with about two cups of favas, and then came the hardest part – trying to decide what to do with them. I had a bunch of ideas in mind, and had looked at several recipes throughout the course of the day for inspiration, but I was still torn. I finally narrowed it down to two preparations, and Mike made the final decision – a light pasta dish with blanched favas, arugula and lemon.

The pasta we used was a delicious golden beet and goat cheese ravioli from Casa Tua in the Essex Street Market. I decided to make an arugula and lemon puree as a base for the pasta in addition to the fresh arugula I would add on top; a couple of garlic cloves, some kosher salt, the juice and zest of a lemon, and a big handful of young wild arugula leaves went into the mini chopper, I pureed the mixture until smooth, and then blended in about 1/4 cup of olive oil to finish it.

I spooned the arugula and lemon puree onto our plates, reserving a spoonful or so to toss the blanched favas with. I placed the ravioli on top of the puree, spooned the favas on top of that, and added a small handful of arugula leaves to each plate. A few crumbled walnuts, a little more lemon zest, and some thick shards of Pecorino Romano cheese were the finishing touches.

This turned out even better than I had hoped. The colors of the beet pasta and the favas and arugula were gorgeous on the plate, the dish was light but very satisfying, and the flavors complemented each other beautifully. This is definitely one to keep in our repertoire for fava bean season.

This is not the meal that I had planned to make last night, but I can’t complain. Spontaneity is a good thing, and when Mike called to tell me that he had swung through the Greenmarket at Union Square on his lunch break and picked up a beautiful fresh trout, it would have been crazy not to switch gears.

We both agreed that a simple preparation would be best, so after Mike filleted the trout, I seasoned the filets with a little salt and pepper, gave them a light dusting of flour and then sautéed them in a little butter for just a couple of minutes on each side. I ran my knife through a bit of flat-leaf parsley and some raw almonds and sprinkled the mixture on top of the filets.

My own lunchtime food safari consisted of a trip down to Greenwich Produce in the market at Grand Central, where I had picked up half a pound of new potatoes, some fresh peas and fava beans. Mike halved the potatoes and put them on to boil while I peeled the favas, and when the potatoes were tender I drained them, added a bit of butter, salt and pepper and tossed in the peas and favas. I cooked them briefly then stirred in a handful of chopped fresh tarragon.

This was so simple, and so quick to put together, but there was something really elegant about the way the flavors went together, the freshness of it all – it just tasted like springtime.