We drove to my favorite farm on the Island yesterday afternoon. I coul spend all day at Fiddlehead Farm, but the natives were restless, and so – it being the 1st of August – I grabbed as many of the amazing tomatoes and ears of corn as I could hold. Some good bread and fresh mozzerella, and off we went.

I sliced the tomatoes in half, rubbed them withe evoo and s&p and put them on the grill with some bread. I put the corn in boiling water for one minute; then it too went on the grill. Once the tamatoes were charred and the skins slid off I chopped them up, and put them and the removed-from-the-cob corn kernels in a sauté pan (also on the grill) that had been sizzling on the grill with shallots and garlic in more evoo.

I cooked some pasta in the boilin salted water that had blanched the corn.

I took some of the toasted bread, rubbed some garlic on it, and put it in a bowl. Atop went the local greens, more tomatoes, mozerella, evoo, and red wine vinegar.

We ate outside.

I recount this sitting in an airport waiting for a delayed flight, and staring at a Dunkin Donuts kiosk that is making me sick.

I just read Micael Pollan’s new piece in the NYT, which describes us a culture of sort of food voyeurs; we watch cooking shows, but don’t cook.

I suppose like voyeurs of any stripe – people on the sidelines who critique, but don’t participate (a peeve of mine) – those who watch the cooking shoes while they eat take out or some microwaved crap are missing out.

For me, writing this post, about this nice, simple meal pulled me away from the airport, and brought me back – if only for a minute – to my wife, kids, and friends. No cooking show can do that.

Cook some food together.

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