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Soft-serve ice cream: Summer being ice cream time is pretty obvious, but it’s really about which ice cream. The dense, silky full-fat stuff that requires a warm scoop and begs for topping is beautiful indeed, what dairy dreams are made of. But, no offense, summer belongs to soft serve. Yes, we’re aware it’s pumped full of air, with none of the cachet of the old-fashioned version. But admit it: When you hear the sound of the ice-cream truck tinkling down the street, there’s a Pavlovian response. The softness also lets you swallow it down before it melts down your hand. In summer, that’s crucial.
Cracker Jacks: Honestly, is there any time you eat Cracker Jacks besides at a baseball game? The low-tech appeal of caramel, the primary colors on the box, the eternal mysteries of the toy inside: it’s all quaintly old-fashioned, as though it were still 1908 and Jack Norworth’s immortal lyrics were freshly minted. OK, maybe not -- but a hot July afternoon in the stands, root-root-rooting for the home team with a hot dog in one hand and these salty-sweet treats in the other, is what the season’s all about. At that point, like the song says, we don’t care if we ever get back.
Lemonade: Tangy. Tart. One sip and the oh-so-sweet tingle in the glands in your neck tell you summer has arrived. Lemonade is summer. It’s the perfect companion for a warm evening on the patio, the product for a child’s first business venture. And while the market is full of so-called lemonade drinks, very few pass the test. Real lemonade must be tart. If it’s sweet, it’s not lemonade. Sugar should merely cut the bitterness of pure lemon juice to a palatable zip. Real lemonade does not come from powder either. It comes from lemons, water and lots and lots of ice.
Corn on the cob: No greater tragedy of fresh produce exists than the shink-wrapped corn cob. Maybe strawberries and tomatoes can feebly present themselves in February after a long winter’s nap in the cargo hold, but off-season corn? That’s over the line. It’s never better than when grabbed from a roadside stand -- better yet if it’s plucked right off the stalk, the kernels sweet and plump -- and shucked in the backyard. Then cook it quick, maybe rub it with a butter pat and dig in, savoring the sweetness that only comes as the dog days arrive.
Hamburgers: Never was there a bad time for a hamburger. But something about a patty seared over an outdoor flame, served up on a paper plate with a squirt of ketchup, makes even a so-so burger taste pretty darn good. This is the quintessential non-kitchen food, meant to be cooked wherever and whenever. It begs to be customized (Relish? Mustard? Salsa?) and even if you’re more partial to tofu than beef, you can't overlook one obvious fact: It simply isn't summer without a burger.