Life's A...Beach!

Whenever the weather gets warm and my freckles start showing again, I can't help but dream of laying on the beach, sliding my feet around in warm sand, smelling my coconut-scented Hawaiian Tropic suntan lotion, and thinking of absolutely nothing. Except how badly I want to grab my surfboard and paddle out.

It's been tough living in Brooklyn, battling my way to the beach on the trains only to discover unsatisfying surf. Not to mention the $6 fee it takes just to get onto the beach in Long Beach--the closest and nicest of train-accessible beaches. Yes, $6 just to cross over from the boardwalk onto the sand.

This was a shock to me the first time I spent a day in this Long Island beach town. With one surf shop (decent enough) and local-magnet, burrito shack Aye Caramba (which also serves Caribbean fare), the image of what beach town meant to me (Santa Barbara and San Diego) floated farther and farther away. Even the scent of salty sea was nowhere to be found.

To me, Hawaii does it right. By law, all beaches must be open to the public. Yes, even the beaches in front of those mega-resorts like the Four Seasons Resort at Hualalai in Kona or the Princeville Resort in Kauai must let people onto the beach who are not staying at the hotel.
How to gain this said public access? When you drive up to the kiosk to enter the parking lot, just ask for a beach pass.

My favorite beaches in the world (okay, so I haven't been to Fiji, New Zealand, or most of the world yet), are in Hawaii. Sadly, the turquoise waters of Kua Bay in Kona, are no longer only accessible by an adventurous walk across a mile of black, sharp lava field. I know this doesn't sound enjoyable, but now that a paved road leads tourists right up to Kua Bay's white sands, the cove no longer feels like its your own when you arrive.

Lanikai, on Oahu, is my second favorite. The first time I arrived was by kayak. Gorgeous mansions line the shore, the Chinaman's Hat island looks so close, like you could doggy paddle your way right over to it. Brilliant coral in fuschia and blue creates an underwater civilization while sea turtles glide through less dense parts.

And unlike the beach that lines Malibu Colony's shore, anyone can settle into the sand, soft as velvet, with a book and a towel and enough drinking water to last all day long...

(Now fill me in. What's your favorite beach? Don't worry, we won't tell.)

[Image 1 thanks to Laura A according to this license.]
[Image 2 thanks to sarahkim according to this license.]
[Image 3 thanks to ssylvis according to this license.]

Farmer's Market's in the Air

When I first moved to New York City, in summer months heavy with humidity, one of my saving graces was the farmer's market that lined the city sidewalks with buckets and barrels of ruby strawberries, orange and green heirloom tomatoes, artisan cheeses, and homemade jams. When I first came I was living in the high reaches of the Upper West Side. Farmers stood beneath the shelter of their shady tents with puffy pastries, spongy breads, and promises of crisp apple cider in the fall.

After two months I migrated to Brooklyn Heights where I clutched my air conditioner until the days and nights were just cool enough to escape the apartment and settle into pleasant summer temperatures. No matter where I went, it seemed a farmer's market plopped right down around the corner--a spread of culinary delight for my eyes, nose, and especially mouth to feast upon.

Almost year-round (sans the months when snowflakes fall from the skies and the temperatures dip below bearable), the local farmers find their way to Borrough Hall (Court Street & Montague Street) and stand tall with fruits and vegetables they've planted, nurtured, and nourished on display. For a couple dollars, I can buy sweet, yellow ears of corn, fragrant basil that opens the doors of Italy in my kitchen, and maple syrup tapped from trees not too far from my doorstep.

Since 1976, Greenmarkets have flourished in New York City with over forty-four markets dotting the five boroughs. With everything from organic produce to fish to wine and baked goods, these sales help support local families, gather your neighbors, and preserve open, green spaces. Not only that, but eating local is better for you: the less time produce travels, the less nutrients spill out along the way.

Can't make it to the famous Union Square market? Check here for some fresh produce near you. Can't cook? No problem--bite into a crunchy apple (no frying pan necessary!) or keep an eye out for recipes concocted by Greenmarket themselves like Cucumber Puslane Yogurt Salad, Blueberry Pudding Cake or Fresh Market Salsa.

I often refer back to my recipe for Pesto. The moment I open the bag and release the scent of basil into my kitchen, I am standing on the steps of Monterosso, the Mediterranean winking up at me.

[Image 1 thanks to jaymce according to this license]

[Image 2 thanks to the talented Ian Troxell, painter and fine artist]
[Image 3 thanks to hedox.us according to this license]