At 12:15 AM, they finally called - now barreling around the edge of Prospect Park with a 16-foot trailer in tow.

A husband-and-wife duo had lovingly (and for a handsome price) hauled my things 1,300 miles from my native Louisiana to the center of Brooklyn in the dead of winter. 37 years of accumulated things sat on the cold pavement as the three of us carried box after box into the warmth of my tiny, ground-floor studio apartment. The brownstone was built in 1920 with eight, one-room units – one of which I now occupy. As I thanked the weary travelers and watched them disappear into the night, fat white snowflakes started dropping out of the night sky as if to consecrate the whole endeavor and welcome me to this strange, enormous, fast-moving place.

I have always loved big cities - especially at night. Dragging my life’s belongings across the United States to live in one felt outrageous and scary, but also exhilarating and stupid and satisfying. Lights, buildings, sounds - the sheer scale of a place and the hum of life within it! To whisper the words, “I live here,” into the frozen, night air and watch them disappear along with the dreams, complaints, and carbon dioxide of 8.4 million other New Yorkers feels right.

A wise woman once told me, “You just go do it.” Who would I be if not a happy, cooking, and eating fool wandering about the streets of New York?

Taco trucks before a Broadway matinee? Yes, please. How about a standing-room-only taco counter for lunch? Again, yes. Do I eat a lot of tacos? Possibly. Los Tacos No. 1 is a favorite lunch spot during the week where patrons flag down a line cook, pass their receipt, and await some of the best tacos in NYC (in my opinion).

As my first summer here comes to a close, hot humid afternoons and balmy nights are sprinkled in amongst drier, breezier mornings.

New York has been unusually generous to this Louisiana boy with its weather, its people, and its food. My family and friends have visited; I’ve met so many incredible people; and of course, feasted my way through at least two of the five boroughs - making a few things at home in between. I can’t help but find a way to entertain - even if it means unofficially annexing the basement hatch outside my apartment as an ad-hoc patio for dining (pictured below) and entertaining al fresco.

When it’s summertime in New York, I don’t want to be in a subway station for more than three minutes (if at all) and I’m not attending anything unless open-toed shoes are a requirement and it happens after 7 PM.

While June and July were truly mild this year, August showed me what summer here can really be. Lately, if pants are required, I’m out. If there’s a pool or other body of water involved, count me in. Humans need shade and rooftops and wind (see below); and if I’m eating anything, it‘s usually cold and comes with an even colder beverage. These are the rules. (Otherwise, I will be there in spirit only … whilst laying half-clothed immediately adjacent to my air-conditioner. Thank you for coming to my TED talk.)

What I’m Cooking

Summer in the city is fun and full of life, but can also be hot and humid as hell. So why not adjust your lifestyle and day-to-day endeavors accordingly? This is what I’m doing and in the process avoiding any and all actual cooking (at least with heat). Sometimes it’s inevitable (see roasted root vegetables below, yes they require an oven). But it can be minimized and perform double duty (I.e. use heat once and make sure that whatever you’re cooking can be utilized in multiple dishes).

Caprese Pasta Salad

Sweet Corn Salsa

Classic Hummus

Root Vegetable Confit