Thank you, Sublime Miss M, for reminding us that summer comes around each year, year in and year out, without fail.
As the lit part of our days dwindles, the neolithic me is clanging the gong, “THE WORLD IS COMING TO AN END! THE END I TELL YOU! THE END! SEEK SHELTER!”
We may have had tools, and the means for clanging, back in the day, the neolithic day, but we did not have therapy, and the means for recognizing that one of our inner parts, the protective part, was working overtime.
Settle down, already. Hot dog days will be upon us before we know it. Carlisle is not a long drive, and it’s a pretty one. Winding roads past orchards that whisper, “Summer is upon us,” while issuing waves of apple blossoms into the ether.
Serious Eats brings our seasonal sequence full circle with a series on hotdogs. Around and around we go, spinning in space on our homeglobe, eating serially, seasonally, panic shushed reliably by summer light.