After the so-called ‘hungry gap’ of winter and early spring, few things cheer me more than the emergence of brightly coloured fruit and vegetables as the seasons look towards summer.

Not that I covet them simply for their colour. For me, these wonderful new crops signal that the time has come to put away the earthy, robust recipes of winter and to turn to an altogether lighter style of cooking.

 

Fresh, tender broad beans are a constant presence in my fridge when they’re in season. Gone are the days of my childhood when I’d dread the appearance on my plate of those loathsome grey, hard little bullets, boiled to bitterness. Now, thankfully, I know better.

Apart from the very first new beans of the season, I’ll remove the pods and outer jackets to reveal the vibrant, sweetish green legumes in all their luminous glory. It’s a tad fiddly, but so worthwhile for the end result.

And there’s nothing easier, when the podding’s all done, than to throw a handful of these beany gems, perhaps with some peas, into a pan of drained pasta along with some fried lardons, a generous handful of basil and mint, and chopped fresh red chilli. Add plenty of butter or olive oil, according to your preference, a little grated lemon zest, and you have a quick, easy, and zingy summer’s meal!

 

Freezers mean that we can eat peas all year round. In so doing, we risk forgetting that they really come into their own when enjoyed straight from their pods between May and September.

Pea and ham soup may be a comforting stalwart of the colder months, but a summer version, made with fresh peas, enlivened with leafy green herbs, and served lightly chilled with crisped pancetta (or a swirl of lemony crème fraîche, perhaps), is wonderfully welcome on a warm day.

 

Since peas are full of natural sweetness, they also make great ice cream ! Try making some, and resist revealing the secret ingredient to your family and friends until they’ve tasted it!

 

No summer is complete, of course, without fruity thirst-quenching drinks on hand. While for most, summer evokes ready thoughts of a tall glass of Pimm’s, packed with chopped seasonal fruits, it’s actually more fun and almost just as easy to make your own tipples.

 

Rhubarb (did you know that actually rhubarb’s technically not a fruit, but a vegetable?) is plentiful at this time of year, and lends itself well to turning all sorts of cooling summer delights.

Things such as jelly – that old retro favourite now making a comeback - as well as sorbet, granita, fool, and ice cream (do try Delia’s rhubarb crumble ice cream if you haven’t already). But it’s particularly good for turning into liquid form because of its high water content.

 

For those who like flavoured spirits, rhubarb makes a superb vodka (try the recipe of my co-contributor to this column for a foolproof version), which you can tweak with, for example, ginger, cardamom, and orange to taste.
 
If vodka isn’t your thing, then how about a good old-fashioned ‘lemonade’-style cooler to revive the tastebuds? With its natural lip-puckering sharpness, rhubarb is perfectly suited for the task. Here’s my updating of a recipe for one such early 19^th-century ‘sherbert’, recently reproduced in Mary Prior’s excellent ‘Rhubarbaria’: 

Place the rhubarb in a large pan with the water, and bring to the boil. Turn the heat down and continue to simmer for ten minutes.

 

Remove from the heat, and strain through muslin or a fine sieve into a jug. Add the sugar and lemon peel, and stir until the sugar has dissolved. Leave to cool.

 

Once cooled, try the sherbet and add more water and/or sugar to taste. Place the jug in the fridge to chill. Serve in a long glass with plenty of ice, a twist of orange peel, chopped strawberries, and some fresh basil.

 

 
Helen Parkins has been mad about food for as long as she can remember. She now writes about her obsession with all things gastronomic mainly at http://www.aforkfulofspaghetti.blogspot.com/, and on Twitter, at http://twitter.com/aforkful