Fruit Salad with Vanilla-Lime Dressing

School's out, summer is in full swing and the KC kitchen staff is more eager than ever to get to work.

I, on the other hand, am readjusting to the amped up summer house volume and the sheer exhaustion of fielding ceaseless requests to paint, set up the sprinkler, help practice piano, go to the park, walk to the library, recall the Spanish word for prairie (pradera, by the way), host a spelling bee, make popsicles, make worksheets, make popcorn, make playdough, put on a puppet show, demonstrate a proper cartwheel, and the dreaded...can we plug in the glue gun?

With the day spiraling into hot glue territory, it's time to act. Fast. So what's quick, simple, can be made from stuff you already have sitting on your kitchen counter and irresistibly enticing to a swarm of sunscreen-slathered, half-dressed ragamuffins armed with a glue gun?

Fruit freaking salad, baby.

Fruit Salad with Vanilla-Lime Dressing
inspired by The Pioneer Woman

For the dressing

1 cup granulated sugar
2 limes, zest and juice
1 cup water
1 & 1/2 tsp good vanilla extract (or the caviar of one fresh vanilla bean)

For the salad

1/2 medium peeled, pineapple, cored and chopped into chunks
1/2 small cantaloupe, rind removed, seeded and chopped into chunks
1 pint strawberries, hulled and sliced
2 cups grapes, halved
1/2 pint blueberries
1/2 pint raspberries
1 handful fresh mint leaves

To make the dressing, combine the sugar, lime zest, juice, water and vanilla in a small saucepan. Bring it to a boil, stirring until all of the sugar is dissolved. Reduce heat and simmer 10-15 minutes until it starts to thicken. Remove from heat and let cool.

You'll be relieved to know that preparing a fruit salad requires no advanced training. Wash, peel, core, and slice fruit as necessary and put it all in a bowl. Use whatever fruit you have. Enlist your glue gun-wielding kitchen staff and go to it.

Pour the cooled dressing over the top of the fruit and toss everything together gently. Or if your staff has a case of the pickies, leave the dressing on the side and use it as a dip instead. Garnish the whole beautiful mess with mint leaves.

Don't forget to destroy the glue gun while their slurping the last of the juice from their bowls.

Panna Cotta with Strawberry-Rhubarb Sauce

The little KC kids are obsessed with jello. Like a lot of kids, the infatuation has more to do with the slip and jiggle than any particular flavor profile. I mean, when you assert preference by color, how important, really, is taste? I'm going with not very.

Given the penchant for wiggle, I thought panna cotta might be right up their alley, especially topped with a glossy bright strawberry-rhubarb sauce. And bonus, real vanilla and fresh strawberries taste so much better than red.

Disclaimer time. The original recipe calls for creme fraiche, which while picking up rhubarb and buttermilk at Whole Foods, I could have sworn was happily residing in my fridge just waiting to be called into action. Alas, when I got home, that very creme fraiche mysteriously had morphed into mascarpone! I hate when that happens. Fortunately there's almost always some Greek yogurt hanging around our house, which valiantly stood in for the mysterious traitor.

Buttermilk-Yogurt Panna Cotta with Strawberry-Rhubarb Sauce
adapted from Bon Appetit 

For the Panna Cotta

1 & 1/4 tsp unflavored powdered gelatin
1 & 1/4 cups heavy cream
1/3 cup granulated sugar
1/4 tsp kosher salt
1 vanilla bean, halved lengthwise
1 & 1/4 cups buttermilk
1 & 1/4 cups full-fat plain Greek yogurt

For the Sauce

1 & 1/2 cups (about 10 ounces) strawberries, hulled
1/4 cup granulated sugar
2 cups rhubarb, (about 8 ounces) sliced 1/4-inch thick
1/2 tsp unflavored powdered gelatin

For the Panna Cotta, pour 1/4 cup of cold water into a little bowl and sprinkle the gelatin over the top. Let is sit for about 10 minutes until the gelatin swells and softens.

In a medium saucepan, combine the cream, sugar, and salt. Scrape the gooey seeds from the vanilla bean into the liquid, then toss in the pod too.

Bring the mixture to a simmer then add the softened gelatin mixture. Stir to dissolve all the gelatin, then remove the pan from heat and let it cool. Once cool, remove the vanilla bean pod. Whisk in the buttermilk and yogurt. Pour the mixture into small ramekins or dessert glasses. Chill in the refrigerator until firm, at least 2 hours.

For the sauce, combine the strawberries, rhubarb, and sugar in a medium heat-proof bowl. Toss everything together so the sugar coats the fruit.

Cover the bowl tightly with plastic wrap, folding and pressing the wrap so it extends just along the top edge of the bowl. If it helps, you can wrap a large rubber band around the rim of the bowl to hold the plastic wrap in place.

Set the bowl over a pot of simmering water, careful not to let the plastic wrap touch the pot. Heat the berry-rhubarb mixture without stirring for about 45 minutes, until the rhubarb looks pale and the fruit is soft.

Use a fine sieve to strain the fruit mixture, reserving the liquid only. Don't press and push on the fruit to get more juice out or your sauce won't be nearly as lovely. Get what you can, then add water to make 1 cup total.

In a separate small bowl, sprinkle the gelatin over 2 tablespoons cold water. Let it stand for 10 minutes.

While the gelatin is softening, bring the strawberry-rhubarb liquid to a boil in a small saucepan for about 3 minutes, stirring every now and then to prevent burning. Add the softened gelatin mixture and stir well to dissolve any stubborn gelatin granules. Remove from heat and let stand until completely cool.

Top the cold, set panna cotta with the cooled sauce and chill until the sauce is thickened, at least 2 hours.

Michigan Blueberry Crisp Parfaits

These three are champion pickers. They've labored over buckets of sweet tiny strawberries. They've sported scars from thorny raspberry bushes and prickly cucumbers from the garden. They've plucked peppers and tomatoes from the vine, apples from the tree, and countless leafy herbs, but for this bunch nothing beats the late summer ease of blueberry picking.

You can't go to Michigan in August without picking blueberries. In our case, thirteen pounds of blueberries. Despite Mufasa's many mumblings to the contrary, thirteen pounds would have been a perfectly reasonable amount if we hadn't been on vacation and without a way to freeze or can those succulent little blues.

As if the idyllic peninsula setting weren't enough, the berries were perfectly sweet prompting Looly to confess she felt like she was picking candy. But to say the blueberries at Buchan's Blueberry Hill were abundant would be unfair. The blueberries were literally falling off the bushes into our buckets. I picked five pounds without moving my feet. Incredible. I don't know how long the season will run but if you're anywhere near Traverse City and able, go to Buchan's. Go now.

So in addition to blueberries for breakfast, lunch, dinner, snacks, a blueberry crisp was an absolute requirement.

But just as northern Michigan is blueberry country, it's also pie country. Really good pie. So despite all those blueberries I simply could not help myself when a buttery crumble-topped cherry pie leaped into my arms at Grand Traverse Pie Company.

Berry dessert overload was setting in when my dear friend, Rhea, offered a most brilliant suggestion: Blueberry Crisp Yogurt Parfait. Suddenly blueberry crisp is a perfectly acceptable breakfast form.

Forget scones, muffins, and pancakes. Make me a parfait.

Blueberry Crisp Yogurt Parfait

6 cups fresh blueberries
1/2 cup granulated sugar
1 tbsp lemon juice
2 cups flour
2 cups rolled oats
1&1/2 cups brown sugar, packed
1 tsp cinnamon
1/2 cup butter
2 cups plain lowfat yogurt

1. Preheat oven to 350 degrees. Toss together the berries, granulated sugar, and lemon juice.
2. In a separate bowl, combine the flour, oats, brown sugar, and cinnamon. Stir to combine. Cut butter into small cubes, add to the flour mixture and using two knives or a pastry cutter, cut into the dry mixture until nice and crumbly.
3. Place berry mixture in the bottom of a 9x13-inch pan (or slightly larger - it's a big crisp!). Sprinkle the flour mixture over the berries. Bake 35-40 minutes until the berries are bubbling and the topping is golden brown.
4. Cool completely (or eat some with ice cream while it's warm and save the rest for breakfast).
5. Spoon 1/2 cup of yogurt into 4 bowls. Top with a generous scoop of cooled blueberry crisp.

Makes 4 parfaits, with plenty of crisp to spare.

Cherry Berry Gazpacho

After the tuna event earlier this week I felt I owed the kids a gimme. Typically cold soups aren't my thing. On a sweltering day I'd much rather fight fire with fire with spicy tortilla soup than chilled tomato gazpacho. But fresh berries and a blender? That sounds like a smoothie in a bowl.

Berry Cherry Gazpacho.

Cherry Berry Gazpacho with Honeyed Mascarpone
adapted from Cooking Light July 2012

For the soup
1 pound purple seedless grapes
1 pound sweet cherries, pitted and stems removed
8 ounces fresh blueberries
1/2 cup apple juice
2 tbsp. honey
2 tsp. lemon rind, grated
2 tbsp. lemon juice
1/4 tsp. salt
fresh mint leaves to garnish

For the Mascarpone
1/4 cup mascarpone cheese, at room temperature
1 tbsp. honey

1. Remove stems from fruit, wash, and pat dry. Put grapes, cherries, and blueberries in a large saucepan over medium-high heat. Add apple juice and honey. Bring to a boil. Reduce heat to medium and simmer for 15 minutes, stirring occasionally. Remove from heat and let stand 10 minutes. Puree with an immersion blender (or process in batches in a food processor or blender) until nearly smooth. Strain, discard solids, and chill at least 2 hours. Stir in the lemon rind, juice, and salt.
2. In a small bowl combine room temperature mascarpone and honey. Mix well.
3. Ladle soup into bowls and top each with a dollop of honeyed mascarpone. Garnish with fresh mint leaves and additional lemon zest.