It's hot. Okay, it's not really all that hot. But I still don't feel like cranking up the oven, or heating up a frying pan.

And it's fruit season. I've had entire dinners made up of blueberries and cherries twice this week. Avocadoes with salt and lime for lunch. Watermelon for breakfast.

Why cook when the farmers market is overflowing with fruit.

I wanted dinner to accompany my traditonal election return watching beer, and salad seemed the right blend of not really cooking and "real dinner".

Grilled Apricot Soy Chicken Salad

(as always, sub firm tofu for the chicken, if it suits your fancy)

2 T apricot jam
1/4 cup light soy sauce or tamari
1/2 t dried ginger
a sprinkling red pepper flakes.

Warm the whole mess up in a saucepan, just to melt the jam.
Allow to cool.

Toss in some chicken tenders, or sliced chicken breast. Marinate for a half hour or so.

Grill. Outside.

Toss some salad greens in your favourite vinaigrette.

Pretty up your plate with some sliced avocado, cherry tomatos, sliced cucumbers and shaved red onion.
Add a bit of blue cheese, and some crumbled bacon.
Add the chicken, and salt and pepper to taste.

Crack a beer. Watch the election returns. Enjoy.

People ask, more than any other question, "Is it like Tony Bourdain describes in Kitchen Confidential?"

Well. No. No, it's not.

I'm not sure why that is. You hear stories about kitchens like Mr. Bourdain describes. I talk to people who say they've worked in them. You hear stories about the day so and so froze so and so's knives in a block of ice. But, not in our kitchen.

Maybe because our chef is a woman. Maybe because we're all so damn Canadian. Maybe because the profession as a whole is struggling to gain acceptance as a respectable vocation. Who knows.

Our kitchen is incredibly civil, and incredibly polite.

Please and Thank you bookend every request.

"Sasha, could I please have 2 grilled asparagus and 3 carpaccio. Thank you"

"2 asparagus, 3 Carpaccio. Right away. Thank you."

"I have 2 asparagus and 3 carpaccio up and ready to go"

"Thank you. Now I need 2 greens and a bruschetta, please."

"2 greens and a bruschetta. Right away. Thank you."

All night. Every night.

I don't know if Tony would be pleased or appalled.