I wish I'd taken a picture to show you

My friend Arin is elegantly domestic in a way I long to be. She has a garden. She cooks meals using food that she grows in her garden. Then she takes beautiful pictures of that food and posts them on her blog, along with recipes. She knits stuffed animals for her 3-year-old son. And any minute now she's going to have a baby daughter who will wear a hand-knitted, be-ribboned hat home from the hospital. A hat that Arin made. In short, I admire her home life.

I knit too. I make a lot of blankets, because they are square. I once made a poncho: it was 2 squares sewn together. I tend not to stray from my square formula.

Sometimes I cook. Not often. I lean heavily on spaghetti. If you're invited to my house for dinner, chances are good we'll have spaghetti. Chances are also good that we'll be sitting on the floor in my living room, eating off the coffee table.

But I love to watch the Food Network. I love to see people enjoying the preparation of meals. It is not a concept I'm familiar with. I want to dirty as few dishes as possible. I want to eat n-o-w, NOW.

Tonight I had one of those rare moments where I thought: I want to make a meal.

It was 7:30 when I walked to the grocery store. I was pulling a little wheelie cart, so you know I was serious.

The sun was low in the sky, lending a rosy glow to a beautiful summer evening. People were eating al fresco, spilling out of restaurants and onto the sidewalk, and I maneuvered my little cart around several outdoor tables. The air was fragrant with food.

I took my time at the store, picking out fruits and vegetables. I knew just what I wanted to make. When I rolled my cart home, it was well-stocked with fresh summer produce.

Monte had beaten me home. "Don't eat, I'm cooking," I said, as I trundled through the door with all my wares. "Dinner will be ready in half an hour."

"Kind of a late meal, huh?" he said. It was 8:30.

"Yeah," I agreed. "But it will be worth it."

And it was. I roasted 4 ears of corn in the oven, dousing the husks in water so they could cook in the steam. Then I sliced 2 firm peaches into quarters and set them in a baking pan with a little water at the bottom. I drizzled them with olive oil, balsamic vinegar and a little bit of lavender honey (from France!). Then I seasoned them with sea salt, fresh ground pepper and several sprigs of fresh rosemary, and popped them in the oven along with the corn.

Within minutes the kitchen was wonderfully fragrant with roasting rosemary and corn husk. I never knew roasted corn husk smelled so good!

While those were cooking I scooped the flesh out of an avocado and mashed it with the back of a spoon. I added the zest and juice of half a lime, a hearty shaking of chili powder and a good grinding of sea salt to make chili-lime guacamole. Then I prepared the salad: 2 bowls of mixed greens with sliced strawberries.

After half an hour I removed the corn and the peaches. The peaches were laid on the beds of greens and the salads were lightly dressed with a mixture of balsamic vinegar, olive oil, lime juice, salt and pepper. I stripped the husks to the cobs of the corn and twisted them into handles, then placed them on plates beside hearty dollops of guacamole.

It was a fantastic meal. "I can really taste the lime in this guacamole," said Monte, as he spread more on his corn.

"I can't believe the taste of these peaches!" I exclaimed, raving over my own food. "The rosemary is amazing! I think this is best salad I've ever had!"

"It's such summer food," agreed Monte. "So fresh. This is the kind of meal you want to eat outside."

"I know!" I said. "That's exactly what I was thinking during my walk home from the grocery store. I wanted to make a summer meal that was perfect for eating outside."

"You did it," he said. "It is the perfect outdoor summer meal."

I beamed.

Then he said, "It's too bad we're sitting on the floor of our living room, eating off the coffee table."

Ah, well.