Nigel Slater's gentle summer recipes (2024)

Just as there are recipes suited to a blazing sunny day – peppers alla Piedmonataise, say, or deep-fried calamari with garlic mayonnaise – there are others that seem perfect for eating in the shade, perhaps at a table set under a tree or, if you have such athing, a garden umbrella.

For me, the sort of meal eaten in dappled shade might be one of delicate flavours and pale colours, the first soft greens of summer – broad beans, peas, gooseberries, herbs and lettuces. Food that whispers rather than shouts.

Last Sunday we sat down to such a quietly spoken lunch – a bowl of mild soup thick with basil and broad beans, followed by a cake threaded through with gooseberries. A meal of quiet, graceful flavours, yet one that seemed to be appreciated by all who tucked in.

The broad beans I have been buying have tiny beans barely bigger than a fingernail trapped in their thick, fur-lined pods. You don't get many for your money, but they are extremely sweet and mild with none of the mealy bitterness that the end of season whoppers can suffer from.

The smallest of these are petite enough to eat with their tight, pale grey skins, but others with pods even thinner and softer can be eaten bean, skin, pod and all. I take the most tempting of these, the unblemished ones that feel almost empty, and simmer them in equal amounts of olive oil and water for 25 minutes or so, then chill and serve them up with lemon and mozzarella torn into lumps, or slices of thickly cut ham.

There are plenty of good lettuces about, grown before the worst of the scorching sun gets to the fair-skinned leaves. I grew some from seedlings this year and hid them in the shade of the raspberry canes. Bright sunshine will make a lettuce bolt and its milky sap bitter. When looking for a suitable growing spot, it is best to think of them as sedate Edwardian ladies who prefer life under a lace parasol.

I have cooked lettuce before and like the delicate character and softness of the leaves as a change from summer's big, bright flavours. The sort of vegetable stew I made with it earlier in the week has made me rethink lettuce's worth in the kitchen. Maybe it's good for more than adding to peas in the classic petit* pois à la Francaise or a tranquil lettuce soup.

This was also the start of the short gooseberry season, the fruit that is so sharp when raw yet cooked with a little sugar bubbles down to a pale and beautiful purée. Once the knee-jerk crumble was in the oven, I started thinking about them in a cake, the tiny green beads held in an almond sponge mixture with a soft and crumbly crust on top. After a couple of attempts I decided to push the fruits down into the cake mix rather than have them as a distinct layer, which kept the mixture moist throughout. Our only question was to decide which worked best with it, a pot of tea or a glass of champagne.

BROAD BEAN, BASIL AND LETTUCE SOUP

Pod the beans, boil them in deep water for 6 to 8 minutes until tender, then drain and cool them under running water.

Warm the olive oil in a deep saucepan, add the garlic and let it soften and colour slightly. Shred the lettuce into wide ribbons. Add the chilli to the garlic then the lettuce. As the lettuce starts to wilt, pour in the stock and stir in some salt and a little black pepper. Bring quickly to the boil, add the cooked beans and lower the heat so the water simmers for 3 minutes.

Toast the bread. Roughly chop the parsley, shred the basil leaves and add them to the vegetables. Tear the bread into large pieces and divide between four soup bowls, ladle over the vegetables and their liquor then serve immediately with grated parmesan and a trickle of olive oil.

GOOSEBERRY CRUMBLE CAKE

A cut-and-come-again cake for a summer tea.

Preheat the oven to 175C/gas mark 3. Line the base of a 20cm round tin with baking parchment. To make the crumble topping, blitz the flour and the butter to crumbs in a food processor. Add the caster sugar and mix lightly. Remove the mixer bowl from the stand and add a few drops of water. Shake the bowl a little so that some of the crumbs stick together like small pebbles.

To make the cake, beat the butter and sugars in a food mixer for 8-10 minutes until pale and fluffy. Beat the eggs gently then gradually introduce them to the mixture with the beater on slow.

Fold in the ground almonds and flour then add the drops of vanilla extract. Transfer the mixture to the tin and smooth it flat. Scatter the gooseberries on top, pressing them down a little.

Scatter the crumble mixture loosely over the gooseberries. Bake for an 60-75 minutes, checking for doneness with a skewer. The skewer should come out damp from the gooseberries but without any raw cake mixture attached. Leave to cool in the tin, then remove and set aside.

Email Nigel at nigel.slater@observer.co.uk or visit theguardian.com/profile/nigelslater for all his recipes in one place