As often happens when strolling the Saturday Farmers’ Market, Jen and I came across a heretofore unfamiliar fruit: the Lemon Cucumber. Pale yellow and almost spherical, the baseball-sized lemon cucumbers we found at Good Hummus were described as a mellow, less astringent version of the common salad and sandwich component. We snatched up two of them.
As we’re in the thick of avocado season, we picked up a few of those as well, and I began to have visions of the only vegetable sandwich I’ve ever really loved—cucumber, avocado and cream cheese. With the riches of the Farmers’ Market before us, we compiled ingredients to make a gussied up version of this sandwich.

Instead of cream cheese, we got Nicasio Valley Cheese Company’s delicious Foggy Morning. Foggy Morning is a soft, cow’s milk cheese that is light and delicious.

For bread, Jen selected Oktoberfeast Bakery’s Sabine’s Sandwich Bread, a dense but soft rye loaf.

I sliced the cucumbers and avocado in quarter inch slices.

I sliced the bread, then spread a thin layer of mayo on one side and whole grain mustard on the other.

I spread a healthy layer of the Foggy Morning cheese on top of the mayo. In many years of sandwich making (and appreciating), I’ve discovered that the cheese almost always belongs right next to the mayonnaise, where they can conspire in a creamy, vegan-repellant delirium.

I piled the cucumbers on top of the cheese and the avocado over the mustard. Another thing I’ve learned from many years of sandwich enjoyment is that you always want something a little tangy next to the avocado.

Finally, I sprinkled some Turkish black pyramid salt on the cucumbers and some fresh ground pepper on the avocado.

The finished sandwiches made for a delightful and hearty lunch.

All the photos are here.

















































52 Foods Week Thirty Two: Cherry Tomatoes
A few weeks ago, the night we made the rotisserie rabbit, some friends we’d invited gave us a sack of vegetables fresh from their garden. Along with some tasty peppers, there was a basket full of bright orange-red cherry tomatoes. For much of my childhood, my mother maintained a hearty vegetable garden, complete with many tomato varieties, both large and small. I would often eat whole tomatoes right off the vine—like apples—a pleasure that is hard to duplicate with most grocery tomatoes, which made me all the more delighted to receive such ripe gifts from our friends’ yard.
Truth be told, I would have been happy to eat the tomatoes one by one right out of the bag, but I set some rules for myself, one of which was that all foods needed to be prepared in some way. Torn between a desire to do as little as needed and a deep respect for the rules, I whipped up a simple side of sautéed tomatoes with garlic, crushed red pepper and salt.
I crushed a couple cloves of garlic and put them in a pan of olive oil with the red pepper flakes.
After a few minutes, I added the tomatoes and tossed them continuously until the skin just began to split.
Finally, I dumped the tomatoes in a bowl and sprinkled them with salt for a quick, bright summer side dish.