Six of the best salads of summer

It's petered out somewhat over the last fortnight, but at least we can't moan that there's been no summer at all this year. July was a corker, and although August has been cooler and damper so far it's hardly been a monsoon style washout like some of those in recent years, and for that we should be thankful.

The return of prolonged warmth for the first time in a while has given me a new found interest in all things salad-y. If it's cold (or possibly warm, but definitely not hot) and you can mix it up and bung it on a plate with the minimum of fuss, that's the dish for me.

Easy, colourful, refreshing, no hot ovens necessary, only grilled meat needed by way of accompaniment, these are my six favourite salads of the summer.

Pickled carrots and beets, mozzarella. A Nigel Slater idea this, and a very good one. Give strips of root veg a light pickling in lemon juice and wine vinegar, then serve with mozzarella and dress with olive oil and the pickling juices. Quite subtle this, mild and tangy with a great contrast in textures.

Peas, cucumber, feta, mint, spring onion. Lovely mix of gently sweet and sharp in this one. Any fresh, lactic cheese would do the job. Fresh peas are essential, don't use frozen.

Bread Salad. Read about it here. Still my favourite discovery of the summer.

Watermelon, feta and mint. Make sure you chill the melon before making it and you'll end up with the sweetest, juiciest salad imaginable. Save this for a genuinely hot day.

Peaches and Parma ham. Discounting the black pepper and olive oil this only has two ingredients so I'm not sure it really counts as a salad. Is it just a meal? An assemblage? Who cares when it tastes this good. The contrasts here are the thing, so make sure your fruit is chilled and your meat isn't. Cold, sweet peach flesh and warm, salty pig flesh is a match made in heaven.

Grilled onions and pomegranate. More of a relish than a full blown salad, but an excellent accompaniment to any sort of barbecued lamb. Toss a thinly sliced red onion in a teaspoon of sugar and the same of sunflower oil, then sweat down under a hot grill until you get some lovely caramelised bits. Throw in the pips and any juices from half a pomegranate. Sweet, sharp and slightly bitter, it cuts through fatty meat beautifully.

Bread salad and fools

I haven't gone mad, honest. There is reason to the title of this post; it's simply the name of the two best things I've made to eat so far this summer.

Pair a bread salad with some barbecued meat, then make a fool for pudding. You'll end up with a perfect summer's evening meal that's delicious, good for you, frugal, and ridiculously easy to make.

These are the things to eat outdoors on one of those rare, balmy summer nights that only seem to crop up a few times a year, those you can't waste for fear of never getting another, those that make you accidentally neck a bottle of wine on a Tuesday for no reason other than that it's sunny and warm and that must be celebrated. You know the sort.

I'm sure I've eaten a bread salad before and enjoyed it, but I can't remember ever making one. What an oversight. This is one of those dishes where a seemingly run-of-the mill set of ingredients combine to make something unexpectedly marvellous.

A few fridge and store cupboard staples, half a loaf of stale bread, mix it all up, leave it for a bit and.... ooh that's good. Remarkably good. Sweet tomatoes, the fresh crunch of cucumber, oil soaked chewy bread, peppery basil. It's more-ish, very more-ish.

I've made two this week, the first a proper panzanella (give or take a couple of ingredients), the classic Tuscan version with basil. The second was a more makeshift affair with olives and parsley in place of the basil. Both were great.

Panzanella (Tuscan bread salad), enough for 2 as a side or 1 as a main dish

Half a loaf of crusty bread, a day or two old
about 6 small ripe tomatoes
about a third of a large cucumber
3 spring onions or half a red onion
a handful of basil leaves
extra virgin olive oil
red wine vinegar
salt and pepper

Makeshift bread salad

Exactly the same as above, but substitute the basil for parsley, the red wine vinegar for white wine vinegar, and add 7 or 8 fat green olives.

Both versions are made in exactly the same way: Cut the bread into 2cm chunks and chop up the vegetables into slightly smaller pieces. Throw the lot in a large bowl and pour in a good splash of oil and vinegar. I'd say about 2-3 tablespoons of olive oil and one of vinegar. Season with a good grind of pepper and a quick grind of salt. Mix the whole lot up and leave it for a few minutes. Tear the basil leaves up a bit then add them to the bowl. Mix again then taste to check the seasoning. Add more oil/vinegar/salt/pepper as necessary. Leave for another 10 minutes or so then serve.

On to pudding. I'm in love with our native British fruits, which I think are the finest in the world. I'm absolutely sure about this and have waffled on about why on here before. All you lovers of sweaty tasting tropical specimens are wrong.

At this time of year the obvious choice is a ripe, in season berry served unadorned with cream, but that's not really an option when you have a glut of sour, tougher fruit that needs heat to make it palatable. What you need for gooseberries or rhubarb is a fool. In cooler weather a crumble would be the thing, but in the heat it has to be a fool. A bloody lovely great fool of nothing but fruit, cream and sugar.

Gooseberry or rhubarb fool, enough for four

About 250g gooseberries or rhubarb
2 tablespoons or so of sugar
250ml double cream, or creme fraiche also works well

Stew down the fruit in a pan with some sugar. You don't want any bite left to the fruit but you don't want a puree either. Stop when it's half mush and half still discernable berries or pieces. Taste it and add more sugar if you think it needs it. Leave to cool down until it's no warmer than room temperature. Whip the cream until it stands in soft peaks, then stir in the fruit. Spoon into ramekins, glasses or whatever you want to serve it in then put them in the fridge for twenty minutes or so. Serve cold straight from the fridge.