Food

Fluke are flatfish, a species of Atlantic flounder, also called “summer flounder.” They can weigh in at a pound or so or be heaved aboard in seven to ten-pound sizes. For some reason, fluke were scarce for a few years but that has changed. Fluke fillets may be cooked like sole or flounder. The flesh is moist and sweet. From the larger fish, crosswise slices or steaks, much like halibut, lend themselves to various broilings, bakings and sauteings.

We are not devotees of strawberry ice cream—except when it is freshly made from freshly gathered strawberries. Several years ago I bought one of those small Salton ice cream makers. The idea of not having to fuss with rock salt and ice, of being able to tuck it into the freezer to do its work, appealed to me. A roast or two has to be removed to make room for it but that is not a problem—we're talking about two hours at the most. 

Salads are for globetrotters. Start with the dressings—"French,” “Italian," "Russian,” “Thousand Islands,” even "Roquefort.” The salads themselves are a Baedeker, not a menu. “Nicoise,” fragrant, herbed, to be enjoyed in the summer sunshine.

Artichokes, ancient, wild, Mediterranean thistles, tamed and cultivated, require a commitment on the part of the diner. You may leave your peas or string beans on the plate but you cannot ignore the stunning presence of an artichoke.

Hors d'oeuvres demand attention.

There are two ways in which a pound and a half of boneless beef stew can be made to serve eight. If the meat is really terrible, it might feed even more than eight (unless the diners are too hungry to care). On the other hand, excellent boneless beef, cut into small cubes and simmered in a rich, spicy "Gulyassuppe" will satisfy eight. Simply provide bread, salad, and dessert to round out the meal.

Herewith a casserole of extreme simplicity but terrific flavor, suitable for entertaining the hungry on Saturday or Sunday after Thanksgiving (by which time one has presumably regained one's appetite). Not only will it make use of every last scrap of meat still clinging to the bones, but the very bones themselves can be simmered to make stock for the dish. A final advantage is that it does not come across as poultry particularly, but rather, something hearty and good.

Although very little of what happens in the Hamptons escapes being news, the dunes and bluffs and potato fields manage to hold a few secrets. One of the best kept of these involves the formula for the stuff Frank Tillotson slathered on his ducks as they turned on their spits.

A few herbs, some good oil or but­ter, a tin of anchovies, salty cured black olives from Europe, tins of plain, unadorned whole tomatoes (until our own great ones come along in late July), a chunk of Parmesan — these are a few essentials to keep in the store cupboard and fridge during houseguest season. Pasta, which can be stored indefinitely either frozen or dry, seems to me one of the most suitable and least painful ways of dealing with unplanned meals.

If there is ever an egg season, it occurs now, in early spring. The symbolism of germinating, hatching and rebirth was celebrated by primitive man and embraced by modern religions. The folklore, if not the ritual, of Easter rejoices in the egg. In every Christian nation it becomes an artform, its culinary attributes outdistanced by the spell of talented brush. 

Covered-dish parties, one of East Hampton’s more venerable social institutions, are meant to provide tasty surprises. The hit of one several years ago was Picadillo, a dish provided by a participant born in Cuba. I have been making it ever since.

If you are in the mood to make gingerbread cookies, Whimseys offers this excellent recipe.