Cantaloupe Soupe, Squash Blossoms, and Pompeiian Pollack

Saturday July 12

We ran into our friend Liz the other day (as we were on foot and she was in her car, that was better than her running into us). Since we're all heading off to different parts of the world soon, we decided to gather for a last informal summer dinner.

Liz brought a nice bottle of sparkly wine from Australia, Taltarni (Brut taché). We had it along with the first appetizer: Holt's Cantaloupe Soupe, made with the aforesaid melon, apple juice, a little plain yogurt, and cinnamon, all zoomed up in the robo-coupe. The decorative topper was a little cinnamon, sprinkled and marbled by the chef himself.

The second appetizer was freshly-gathered fried squash blossoms, done in the traditional Italian way, stuffed with fresh mozzarella and slivers of anchovy. And as a bonus, each of us got one big blossom with its teeny zucchino attached.

Our main course was Pompeiian Pollack. Okay, we made the name up, but it was inspired by a fish in tomato and caper sauce we had at the Motel Villa dei Misteri at Pompeii Scavi, and by the fact that we had three portions of pollack in the freezer. We just sautéed half a chopped onion, then added three chopped fresh tomatoes and simmered until they broke down and thickened. Then threw in a small handful of chopped fresh oregano and parsley and a couple of forkfuls of capers, and poured it over the defrosted fillets in their pyrex baking dish. They had fifteen minutes in a 400-degree oven, until the fish flaked; any extra liquid was spooned off, and the fish was served topped with savory sauce. Alongside were pizza fingers, made of a cheeseless end of Barbara's birthday pizza, sliced and toasted for a few minutes.

After the main course, Barbara strolled outside and picked a giant salad of all her varied red and green lettuces, plus a dash of arugula for spice. She dressed it with her home-made basil oil, some Maldon sea salt, and a small drizzle of red wine vinegar, and everyone said it was the freshest, tastiest salad they had ever had.

That made room for the dessert Liz had brought: a deliciously creamy cannoli cake, doused in chocolate. The perfect end for a sort-of-Italian summer dinner.