There have always been writers, cooks and artists who I felt belonged to me. These people are personal inspirations, my own private life coaches and sources of encouragement. Reading either Tana French or Kathleen Finn makes me feel like I’m having a conversation with these women. Seeing strangers on the street reading The Likeness or The Sharper Your Knife, overhearing people in a movie theater profess their sincere love of David Tennant, or walking into the Astor Court garden at the Metropolitan Museum of Art to find a class of chattering children always comes as a shock. I am delighted that these works and artists are getting the attention they deserve–but didn’t you know that they belonged to me?

Julia Child has never, ever belonged to me.

Certainly, everyone has their own private Julia Child. Many people love the idea of a chef who uses butter unabashedly in her recipes. Novice cooks thrill at the idea of an encouraging mentor who assures them that it’s okay to make mistakes. Personally, I adore Julia’s precision. While Julia certainly had fun with her cooking (one only needs to watch a clip of Julia cooking with Jacques Pepin to see what joy there can be in preparing a meal), she was not quite the madcap chef some of her more quotable statements make her seem. Julia’s letters to Avis deVoto sent during the process of writing Mastering the Art of French Cooking demonstrate a sincere dedication to craft. She tests recipes time and again, then sends them to friends to re-test. As I’ve mentioned before, Julia’s recommendation for learning how to make an omelette is to make twelve omelets in a row, until the technique is mastered. My personal Julia doesn’t just tell me not to worry if I ruin the occasional dinner–she tells me to practice until I can make that dinner beautifully and she shows me, with her carefully crafted recipes, just how to do it.

Still, I never feel that twinge of jealousy when I hear someone else mention Julia. Julia Child, of course, belongs to all of us. Discovering someone else who adores Julia as I do (which isn’t difficult, because how could you not adore her?) feels as if I’ve just discovered we share a much-loved mutual friend. Isn’t she marvellous, this woman who single-handedly changed the way our country eats? Isn’t she funny? Isn’t she witty and brave and smart? Yes, let’s do all go to lunch together!

Today would have been Julia Child’s 100th Birthday. Happy Birthday, Julia, from all of us. I’ll raise a reverse martini to you tonight!

The recipe below is inspired by Julia’s recipe for hamburgers. Usually, hamburgers in our household are made by Dan according to Georgetown Grilling Society specifications. They are enormous and delicious and the reason we currently have four bottles of Worcestershire in our kitchen. Sometimes, though, the soul longs for a simpler burger. So, a simple summer menu: fresh tomatoes, corn with jalapeño butter, and hamburgers with crispy shallots. Eat it, and thank your lucky stars you were born in a world that had already been blessed with the wisdom of Julia Child.

Burgers with Crispy Shallots, Tomato Salad and Corn with Jalapeño Butter

Ingredients–Serves 2

Crispy Shallots — From Dash & Bella

3 ½ shallots, cut horizontally into rings
1 tablespoon balsamic vinegar
1 tablespoon butter
1 tablespoon olive oil
salt & pepper

Hamburgers

About a ⅓ a pound of ground beef per person, depending on your hunger and your people
½ shallot, minced
salt & pepper
2 whole wheat english muffins

Tomatoes
2-3 heirloom tomatoes, chopped (pick the ones that smell the most tomato-y)
1-2 tablespoons olive oil
Squeeze fresh lemon juice
salt & pepper

Corn with Jalapeno Butter
2 ears fresh, ripe corn, shucked
Half a stick of butter
Zest of one lime
1 jalapeño pepper, placed under the broiler until skin is blackened, skin removed, and chopped

1. Preheat your oven to 350 degrees. Wrap your corn in aluminium foil and place in the oven. Cook for about 30 minutes. You can use the same method on the grill, if you have one, but it will take less time. More like 15 minutes.

2. Start the crispy shallots: heat the butter and oil over high heat until butter is melted and very hot. Add the shallots, and sauté for a minute or so until they soften and begin to brown. Add the balsamic vinegar (it will hiss and spit–don’t be alarmed), turn the heat down to low on a back burner and let them cook for about 20 minutes.

3. Chop your ground meat up with the minced shallots and a sprinkling of salt and pepper. You’re mixing the shallots and seasoning into the burger by doing this. Then form the burgers into two disc shaped patties. Place on a plate, cover with plastic wrap, and put in the fridge.

4. Make the jalapeño butter. Combine butter, chopped jalapeño and lime zest with a pinch of salt and pepper in a food processor. Process until the butter is soft and spreadable and the jalapeño and lime zest are incorporated. Taste it. Isn’t that nice? Need more salt? If so, add some more and pulse the food processor to combine.

5. Separate the whole wheat english muffins and toast them.

6. Cook your burgers! Heat a cast iron skillet over high heat. When it’s hot, place the burgers on the skillet. Cook for about 7 minutes per size for a ⅓ of a pound burger.

7. While the burgers are cooking, combine the ingredients for the tomato salad.

8. Serve burgers topped with crispy shallots, alongside the tomato salad and corn with jalapeño butter.

Bon appetit, and happy cooking!

Total Carbs: 110
Carbs per serving: 55

Last night I held an enormous yellow tomato up to my face, breathing in deeply.

“Just smell this,” I said, holding the tomato out to Dan. He gave me a skeptical look over his computer. Clearly, the thought of smelling a tomato wasn’t going to be enough to get him to stop tweeting.

I insisted, grabbing a peach for further confirmation. “Really, smell!”

There is no better proof of summer than the smell of a peach, or a fresh ripe tomato, or some deep red strawberries. Growing up, my family and I would spend every summer weekend at my grandparent’s house in Connecticut. My grandmother is a talented and dedicated gardener, but I have to confess I always loved the twisted patch of raspberry bushes in her vegetable garden more than any other portion of her lovingly tended land.

After an hour of picking raspberries, my sister and I would emerge scratched and itchy, unsure of whether we were covered in specks of blood or crushed raspberries. Those afternoons smelled like dirt and sun and raspberries, a perfect summer perfume.

Dan and I usually do a two-week shop. We’ll plan a fortnight’s worth of meals and lug our groceries home nearly a mile from the store. The past few weeks, however, I’ve been insisting on nearly nightly pilgrimages to the grocery store for tomatoes, peaches, and fresh corn. Our neighborhood Whole Foods has a large display of Virginia produce: heirloom tomatoes, bicolor corn, and sweet white peaches. The pull of a perfectly ripe tomato has led me back to the store night after night, and I carry my prizes eagerly back, wanting to bite into the tomatoes like someone else would a juicy, ripe apple.

My sister came down for a visit this weekend. We had big plans for our time together. We were going to go to the National Zoo, the Museum of the American Indian (for lunch), and maybe take a nighttime walk around the monuments. Instead, we spent the weekend lazing by the pool and watching the olympics. In our one burst of energy, we made the trip to Whole Foods for littlenecks, corn, and (yes) tomatoes.

Dan’s absence that weekend meant I could indulge in pasta, so we chose a recipe from the wonderful Dinner A Love Story Cookbook that called for sweet fresh corn, summer tomatoes and clams over pasta. It was a dinner that truly smelled, and tasted like, summer.

Summertime Clam Pasta (Adapted from Dinner a Love Story)

Ingredients – Serves 4

1 bag littleneck clams (ours was about 50 clams, but feel free to go with a smaller amount. That’s a lot of clams)
1 lb whole wheat spaghetti
3 cloves garlic
¾ cu dry white wine
1 onion, diced
1 large or 2 small ripe tomatoes
1 ear of corn, kernels cut off the cob with a sharp knife
Olive oil
Red pepper flakes
Handfull chopped herbs (I used parsley and basil, cause that’s what I have growing on my windowsill)

1. Clean your clams. Fill a large bowl with cold water and dump your clams in there. Swish them around in the water for a minute, then transfer the clams to a colander. Rinse any dirt out of the bowl, pour the clams back in and repeat the whole water, swish, colander process until the water is clean and silt free. (Bonus advice: if your sister is visiting at the time, this is a great task to give to someone else!)

2. Fill a large pot with water and add more salt to it than you think it should. The water should taste salty. Cover it, and bring to a boil.

3. While the water is coming to a boil, heat a tablespoon of olive oil over medium heat. Add the garlic, onions and a few shakes of red pepper flakes and saute until onions are translucent, about five minutes.

4. When your clams are clean (good work, sister!), dump them in the garlic/onion pot. Add the white wine, and cover the pot.

5. Cook the spaghetti according to the package instructions, and drain in your (now clean!) colander.

6. In about 10-ish minutes, the clams should have all steamed open. When they have, add your tomatoes, corn and chopped herbs. Recover the pot and let simmer for another 3-ish minutes. Add the spaghetti to the mixture, and toss it all together. Serve in bowls, alongside crusty bread and (if you’re being good) a green salad.

Total Carbs: 366
Carbs per serving: 91 (Note: these serving sizes are on the larger side. Also: this is a meal to eat with your athletic sister, not your diabetic boyfriend. Meaning, pretty damn carb heavy!)