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The heat is on (but the stove is off)

Hot days call for cool meals. Here’s my guide to surviving summer with no cooking required

Senior Food Editor

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Open fridge door (Olena Ivanova / Getty Images)
Open fridge door (Olena Ivanova / Getty Images)

There are heat waves, and then there is the particular kind of summer delirium that turns your kitchen into a no-fly zone. The stove becomes a threat. Even the toaster oven feels aggressive. In these conditions, survival depends not on cooking but on curation — a kind of fridge-based self-portrait in condiments, cold carbs and ritual beverages.

This month over on The Bite, Salon’s weekly food newsletter, we’ll be focusing on no-cook and low-cook meals — and the ingredients, techniques and shortcuts that help them shine. But before we get into all that, I wanted to invite you into my own fridge.

Here’s what’s getting me through the heat.

The daily rotation

This is the summer I became a popsicle person. Not in a casual way — in a religious, freezer-forward, plan-my-route-home-around-the-popsicle kind of way. After work, I go for a walk that feels less like exercise and more like a moving sauna session. The heat wraps around me like an overly affectionate cat. By the time I get back, I’m flushed, sticky and already dreaming of the reward: a cold blast from the freezer and something frozen on a stick.

I keep a few flavors in rotation — lemon, lime, anything bracing — but my reigning favorite is Outshine’s peach popsicles. They are the color of blush and sidewalk chalk, with the texture of something halfway between sorbet and nostalgia. My local supermarket runs a two-for-five-dollar special, which feels like a tiny blessing. They’re tart and syrupy, with a fruit flavor that somehow feels more real than real peaches. I eat them quickly, the way you do when something drips faster than you can manage. It’s not graceful. That’s part of the point.

The other mainstay is lemon hummus. I’ll take it in any form, but the version from my neighborhood Middle Eastern bakery — dense, silky, streaked with visible lemon zest and little lakes of citrus oil — is especially thrilling. It hits hard with acid, which seems to be the foundational principle of my summer cooking style. I smear it on everything: cucumbers, barbari bread, toasted everything bagels. I am a little unhinged about it. I’ve eaten it with a spoon. More than once.

And then there’s the jasmine green tea. I brew it in huge batches and decant it into a glass jug that looks vaguely like a science experiment. It fogs up in the fridge and smells faintly floral every time I pour it. Cold, tannic and gently perfumed, it’s the only part of my routine that makes me feel like I truly have it together. Sometimes I stand with the fridge door open, sipping straight from the jug, like a very polite animal.

The drinks that keep me going

When I want something simple but not boring (read: not just sparkling water with lemon), I reach for Harney & Sons’ Iced American Buzz Mint Tea. It’s stocked intermittently at the almost-fancy corner store near my gym, which makes it feel more like a prize than a beverage. Picking one up on my walk home has become a little ritual — cold bottle, hot face, slow saunter. It’s minty and brisk, a drink that tastes like a reset.

When I’m in the mood for something with a bit more buzz, I reach for Wynk’s THC-CBD seltzers with a twist of lime. They’re gentle and citrusy and perfect for slipping into a beach bag. I’ve taken them to the lake, to the BYOB Vietnamese joint, to my own bathtub. They’re made for that exact summer moment where your shoulders drop, your mouth goes dry in the sun and all you want is to be a little giggly in the sand.

The fridge door confessional

My go-to fridge snack is barely a recipe and deeply satisfying. It starts with rotisserie chicken — shredded, not cubed or sliced (this matters). I mix it with Ayoh Mayo’s Dill Pickle Mayo.

I’ve said it before, but I’ll say it again: we are living in the golden age of mayo. Created by cookbook author and Bon Appétit alum Molly Baz, Ayoh Mayo is a shining example of the genre: dill-y, pickle-y, tangy and perfect for binding shredded chicken into a two-ingredient salad that tastes like you tried harder than you did.

I scoop it up with Breton crackers, usually while standing at the fridge like a little gremlin. If I’m feeling virtuous, maybe I put it in a bowl first. But honestly, the joy is in the scooping — a snack that feels halfway between lunch and a dare.

The bowls of summer

My summer lunch bowl isn’t so much a recipe as it is a peace treaty with the heat. It starts with Trader Joe’s Elote Chopped Salad Kit — a slaw-y base with a creamy, tangy dressing and those little corn chip bits that feel like edible confetti. I pile it over rice cooker rice, which steams quietly in the background like a saint and doesn’t punish me for wanting a warm carb in a too-hot world. And then, of course, rotisserie chicken — again.

She’s the thread holding this heatwave together. She’s cold, she’s versatile, she has big meal prep energy without the emotional baggage of actual meal prep. Together, it’s less a meal than a gentle assemblage,  one that feels vaguely Chipotle-inspired but costs half as much and doesn’t require a knife.


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Then, when I want something that feels nourishing but still cold enough to qualify as summer food, I make a savory cottage cheese bowl. I start with a scoop of cottage cheese, then add sliced avocado, jammy eggs, cucumber, scallions and a generous shake of everything bagel seasoning. The result is creamy and crisp, rich and briny, soft and crunchy all at once — a protein-rich, textural love letter to myself. It’s not trendy. It’s not cute. But it is perfect.

The condiment MVP

If there’s one thing I reach for more than anything else in a heatwave, it’s my vinegar collection. I’ve slowly amassed a little lineup — rice, red wine, sherry, white balsamic — but the current star is CABI’s Sweet Yuzu Vinegar. It’s delicate and citrusy, just a little sweet and I drizzle it on everything from leftover rice bowls to greens I don’t really want to eat but probably should. It’s cooling, bracing and gives the illusion of effort without actual labor. Basically, it’s my version of perfume.

 

By Ashlie D. Stevens

Ashlie D. Stevens is Salon's senior food editor. She is also an award-winning radio producer, editor and features writer — with a special emphasis on food, culture and subculture.

Her writing has appeared in and on The Atlantic, National Geographic’s “The Plate,” Eater, VICE, Slate, Salon, The Bitter Southerner and Chicago Magazine, while her audio work has appeared on NPR’s All Things Considered and Here & Now, as well as APM’s Marketplace. She is based in Chicago.


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