The still, heavy air of high summer has got the better of me and I am already wishing for the return of winter's clear, cold, frosty mornings, but at least July brings us some wonderful stuff to eat. Ripeness is everywhere right now, from heavy, juice-laden blackcurrants down in the fruit patch to the first of the home-grown Sungold tomatoes no bigger the marbles. Best of all are the white peaches, cantaloupe melons and loganberries, whose ripeness can be sniffed from a metre away.
Any food shopper who fails to inhale the summer's produce is missing atrick. The smell of some vegetables and fruits is the clearest guide to their ripeness. Peaches, pineapples, melons, tomatoes and apricots are all heavy with perfume once they reach their optimum point. Those slits in boxes of strawberries in the supermarket may well be there for air circulation but are invaluable for getting a whiff of the fruit before we put our money down.
Peaches smell differently depending on the colour of their flesh. White peaches – so perfect at the moment – have a distinctive rose-like note to them that I have teamed up with the flowers themselves. Unashamedly romantic pairings include serving the sliced fruits with a rosewater and yogurt panna cotta and, this week, in astrawberry syrup flavoured with crushed petals. In this sultry climate the roses are even more heady than usual. Their petals, both pink and deepest crimson, have been used in Middle Eastern cooking for centuries, as have the dried petals and the distilled water we know from their displays in sticky pistachio-laden pastries.
A favourite recipe in this kitchen is Rose Prince's accompaniment to lamb, made by pounding roses, almonds and olive oil with a hint of garlic and ground coriander to give a nubbly spread for roast lamb or pork. The dried petals turn up in the spice mix ras el hanout, which makes a splendid rub for chicken wings. Rosewater, made from the condensed steam of boiled rose petals, is something I use in a sugar syrup for saturating anything from babas to fruit. I can't go along with the classic teeth-jarringly sweet syrup recipes using equal amounts of sugar and water, but instead make a lighter, more contemporary cooking liquid altogether using just half the amount of sugar and slightly less rosewater than is usual. Adding it bit by bit is essential. Believe me when I tell you that one drop too many and you have liquid soap.
The four most heaven-sent ingredients in my kitchen this week turned up at the same meal. A grind-up of rose petals, strawberries and sugar for a dish of white peaches, and another of mint and ripe melon, offered a sensory overload in a sweltering midweek afternoon. The melon, leaking juice like a pierced waterbed, ended up soaking in a mixture of mint, sugar and its own juices. Thoroughly chilled, it emerged to cool us down on a sticky day better than any drink ever could.
Melon and mint
I'm not sure when I have enjoyed this most, as a first course or as dessert. Acutely refreshing, and it can be made with any variety of melon.
Serves 4
mint leaves about 10
any ripe melon 500g (peeled weight)
limes 2
Cut the melon in quarters. Scoop out the seeds, wasting as little of the juice as you can. Cut the flesh from the skin in wide, sweeping wedges, preferably over a bowl to catch the juice. Slice or spoon the melon flesh into large chunks of a relatively uniform size. If you cut them too small the salad will look "bitty".
Finely shred the mint leaves, either with a knife or tear them by hand, then stir into the melon and its juices. Cover with clingfilm or a plate and set aside in the fridge for at least an hour to thoroughly chill. Don't even think of skipping this step. Then carefully toss the melon in its juice and finely grate the lime zest over the surface. Serve in glasses or small bowls.
Peaches with strawberry rose syrup
Serves 3
For the peaches:
caster sugar 150g
water 750ml
Saturn or other small peaches 6
lemon ½
loganberries, tayberries or raspberries a handful
For the strawberry rose syrup:
fragrant rose petals 25g
caster sugar 80g
strawberries 8, medium-sized
lemon juice a little, to taste
Add sugar to the water and bring to the boil, then lower in the peaches and the ½ lemon and slowly simmer for 10-15 minutes. When the peaches are tender, slip off their skins and leave to cool in the syrup. When the fruit and syrup are cold, transfer to the fridge and chill.
To make the sauce by hand, remove the roses from their stems and snip away the white heel at the base of each petal with scissors. Put the petals in amortar and add the sugar. Pound firmly, until you have athick paste. Chop the strawberries and add, crushing with a fork till you have a sloppy sauce. To make the sauce in a machine, put the petals and sugar in the bowl of a food processor and blitz to a thick crystalline paste, then add the whole strawberries and whizz for a further few seconds.
Taste the sauce for sweetness, adding a little lemon juice if you wish, but not so much that you lose the scent and flavour of the rose. Chill thoroughly.
Put the peaches in a serving dish. Scatter the berries among the peaches then spoon over a little of the rose syrup. Serve very cold, and perhaps scattered with petals.
Chicken with ras el hanout
My ras el hanout chicken recipe with Rose Prince's rose and almond salsa from Kitchenella (4th Estate, £26). If you have trouble tracking down the mild, fragrant spice mix, try seasonedpioneers.co.uk.
Serves 2-3
chicken wings 12 (allow 4-6 per person, depending on their size)
garlic 2 small cloves
lemon juice of ½
olive oil 3 tbsp
ras el hanout 2 tbsp
For the almond salsa:
petals from 2 pink roses
whole, blanched almonds 2 tbsp
ground coriander 1 tsp
garlic cloves 2 small, peeled
olive oil 4 tbsp
Set the oven at 200C/gas mark 6. Put the wings into a baking dish or roasting tin. Peel and crush the garlic and stir in the lemon juice and the oil. Add the ras el hanout and mix to a sloppy paste, dissolving a pinch of salt in it as you go. Pour the paste over the chicken pieces and massage into the skin and flesh with your hands. (If you don't fancy smelling of garlic then pop the chicken and spice paste in a ziplock plastic bag and rub the paste in that way.) Roast for 45 minutes, or until the outside is speckled with dark brown andthe chicken is cooked throughout. Serve with the almond mixture (simply put the ingredients in a food processor and blend to a rough paste) which you can make while the chicken's cooking. Set to one side.
Email Nigel at nigel.slater@observer.co.uk or visit theguardian.com/profile/nigelslater for all his recipes in one place
