Platonic summer pleasures

Having endured a spate of 95-103 degree heat that nearly floored me, I have added a few new weapons to my arsenal of heat survival methods.
As noted in the previous blog, I 've been experimenting with homemade popsicles. I had given one of my two sets of popsicle molds to Jean and her sons, who helped install a new air conditioner at my home, now a source of profound respite. On my way home from Seattle, I was fortunate to locate an exact popsicle mold duplicate in the $2 bin at a Rite Aid.
Discoveries: DEA Harissa purchased in the tube at the French Market, is incendiary and best used in dibs and dabs, but worth the burn. The name alone should have been a clue. However, as I have previously discovered, a few red pepper flakes or some Frank's Red Hot are useful in battling warm weather, as those gustatory types in Louisiana will tell you in a hot minute. There's a reason other southern folk, in this case East Indians, eat vindaloo.
Also, it is possible to make homemade fudgesicles. I took good undutched dark cocoa powder, a can of evaporated milk, erythritol, cornstarch, vanilla and a little milk and stirred up a cooked chocolate pudding with a few low-fat white chocolate Guittard chips tossed in at the last second. Then I froze it in the replacement popsicle molds. Give it at least 24 hours in the freezer. It's not icy, and it is refreshing, an acceptable substitute for a noisy ice cream truck's offerings.

Frozen equals comfort

It was 103 degrees on the bank thermometer in the center of town Thursday afternoon as I left for Seattle. I had stopped by NAPA earlier to have my battery and alternator checked because turning on the air conditioner meant a plunge to zero charging, and I didn't want to end up by the side of the road.
Rick at NAPA swore both were okay, but a trial shot at using the air conditioner lasted less than three minutes as the charging needle headed for zero again.
That's why when I arrived in Seattle around 10:30 p.m., three or four construction zones later with the truck's temperature not cooperating, I was in melt-down mode.
My sister lived in Saudi Arabia more than three years, and her home is filled with the remnants of that experience, but she had to forego sleeping upstairs, as her house wasn't even beginning to cool down.
I met a woman the next morning at a meeting of the Washington Coalition for Open Government who had also lived in the Middle East several years. She said people in Seattle had no idea what real heat can be. My sister's husband is in the Emirates; I know he would agree.
This summer has seen a revival of the popsicle. Only because Jean and her boys helped install an air conditioner last week did I relinquish one of my two sets of popsicle molds. I have hung onto the Volcano Pops; they are worth their weight in gold.
The principle is simple: Fruit, juice, yogurt and whatever else you can throw in. It doesn't take much. Recent batches have included variations incorporating raspberries, blackberries, bananas, orange juice concentrate, pomegranate juice and melon.
Here are some combinations to try:
Pineapple and light coconut milk whipped up in the blender. (You perverse drinker types will immediately think of a pina colada, in which case you should know that alcohol inhibits freezing, so don't add much, and let it remain in the freezer longer.)
An orange juice concentrate, banana and raspberry combination was spectacular. So was a simple frozen pop of whole frozen blackberries in pomegranate juice with some Splenda --- but so refreshing.
Experimenting is half the fun. Little Volcano Pops are just the right size, and have a collection area for melted juice. What could be better while sitting in a lawn swing in the shade?

The 4th. Nothing combustible here.

This 4th of July has turned into a Shrinky-Dinks. Remember them? Long gone after a brief mania in the '70s, they were little plastic things that you cut out one size then put in the oven to shrink into manageable tops for keychains, etc.
Just a few years ago, the county sponsored a series of family games at Rock Creek Park on the 4th of July starting around noon with the "National Anthem." There were prizes, and activities included watermelon-eating contests for several age groups, sack races, tugs-of-war, sidewalk chalk art, horseshoes, candy and prizes in a straw pile for the little ones, etc.
That commemoration quietly faded away last year, when it was too damn hot and no one showed up. This year, the county's events begin at 8 with a local cover band at the fairgrounds and fireworks when the sun finally disappears and the moon rises over the mountains across the river.
I was in a cooking frenzy, starting at 7 a.m. with sourdough waffles and red, white and blue fruit compote to top them (raspberries, blueberries and a little banana, cooked in a little juice, Splenda and cornstarch). I outdid myself for lunch, making my own barbecue sauce using applewood smoked salt from Yakima my sister sent over as a replacement for actual flames. I had some chicken breasts and a couple of boneless pork ribs (my indulgence) in the freezer. I made a pasta salad (vegetable bow ties and rotelli) with a dressing featuring an actual Gorge-grown lemon plus balsamic vinegar, garlic, rice wine vinegar, agave syrup, sesame oil, and herbs from the garden (two kinds of thyme, chives, rosemary, three kinds of sage including pineapple, marjoram and oregano), plus baby sweet peppers, kalamata olives, Italian preserved wild mushrooms, artichoke hearts, water chestnuts, scallions, and six tender edible pod peas from our garden.
Another side dish was baked beans, using the baby limas with carrots, onion and sweet peppers I made yesterday in the crockpot plus a drained can of canellini, blackstrap molasses and Dijon mustard, combined and baked in a glass casserole for a couple of hours.
The "look ma, no barbecue" was especially good.
For later this evening, I have baked an apple crisp with a few dried cranberries and blueberries to top with no-sugar Dreyer's vanilla ice cream.
We'll see if the fireworks are as inspiring and incendiary this year.
It's supposed to get to 95 or hotter by Wednesday. Stick a fork in me. I'm done.