What To Cook When You Don't Feel Like Cooking (Late Summer Edition)
10 no-sweat dishes for when you're burnt out from work—or the sun
Confession: I can't stop making the same dishes on repeat. Summer isn't a time to labor. It's a time to repeat meals, habits… outfits. Just me?
When you want to eat something delicious and healthy but you're burnt out from work—or a day in the sun—lean on these to take the pressure off. They also work brilliantly for last minute dinner guests.
watermelon carpaccio with pecorino romano & pistachios
A favorite dish adapted from my Italian summer travels. Watermelon carpaccio with shaved Pecorino Romano, crushed pistachio, arugula or microgreens, and EVOO (basil infused, if you have it). Add sliced fennel or top with fennel fronds. I've eaten this on repeat for the past few weeks since returning from the sweet little retreat center I toured on the coast of Tuscany. Like Italy, it never gets old. Add some jarred tuna in olive oil for extra protein.
cecina - chickpea flatbread with zucchini & rosemary
Tuscans call this healthy street food cecina, Ligurians insist it's farinata, Sardinians say fainè, and if you’re Pisano it’s torta di ceci. It’s also one of the easiest things you’ll ever make—five minutes to prep, let it rest and toss it in the oven.
trapanese pesto pasta
I once drove the entire length of Italy from Florence to Sicily and explored the island without plans on a complete whim. It was one of the best experiences of my life. This fresh, vibrant pasta was one of the most memorable dishes I discovered—pure Sicilian summer on a plate. I ate it yesterday with a couple pieces of cecina and highly recommend that combination. I recently saw Valentina Solfrini use fresh mozzarella to jazz it up, and she's absolutely right—so refreshing and adds a perfect hit of protein.
Crudaiola means cooking without cooking—finely chopped raw tomatoes (crudo) tossed with pasta. It's the genius of Italian summer: grab what's in the garden and pantry, avoid turning on the stove when it's sweltering, but never skip the pasta. This is beach food, make-ahead food, too-hot-to-cook food.
sicilian tuna panino
Picture this: winding your way up the hill through ancient Agrigento, stopping at a local deli for this simple perfection. The aroma of Mediterranean ingredients—quality tuna, sun-dried tomatoes, capers—mingling with wild herbs on the breeze as you overlook the Valley of the Temples. How to repurpose the leftover olive oil from the jar: this beauty. Slip a piece of crispy cecina from above in for an extra punch of crunch and protein.
haddock with garlic, capers, lemon, parsley & tomato
The Italians call it acquapazza—crazy water. Fresh parsley from the garden (from the wisdom of nonnas: "more parsley than you think is reasonable"). EVOO. Garlic. Capers. Lemon juice. Cherry tomatoes, if you're feeling it. Drop in the fresh catch. I choose haddock because it's one of the cleanest fish—young enough that it doesn't accumulate microplastics and heavy metals like older, larger fish, plus it's in the FDA's "Best Choices" for low mercury. Baste with the juices. Cover the pan and let the simmer steam cook the fish until it flakes apart. Five minutes of prep, five minutes of cooking until heaven lands on your tongue. Need a carnivorous crunch? Top with slices of crispy prosciutto.
The science behind eating fish regularly is compelling: comprehensive meta-analyses show 30-60% reductions in dementia risk for regular fish eaters. The landmark Framingham Heart Study found that people with higher fish-derived DHA levels had a 47% reduced risk of developing dementia over 9 years.
beans, greens and tomatoes with crusty sourdough
At 93, my adopted Sicilian nonna still forages bitter greens at dawn. "Cleans the blood, makes you strong," she said, crushing dandelion leaves between her fingers. My summer pick: Swiss chard. Her lesson: olive oil, garlic, wilted greens, cannellini, hand-crushed tomatoes. The Italians call it cucina povera—poor man's cooking. I call it longevity in a bowl.
caprese salad
No hype up necessary. Fresh mozzarella, tomatoes, basil. A generous glug of EVOO. Salt. Pepper. Mouth. Happiness.
roasted fennel with crushed hazelnuts & cannellini spread
I grow fennel in my garden just to harvest those feathery fronds all summer—they're my secret garnish for everything. I also collect the fennel seeds and fennel pollen for baking (if you know, you know). But don't sleep on the bulbs themselves. Fennel is one of the most underrated vegetables, and roasting transforms it completely. The oven—or heat up that grill!—tames that sharp licorice bite, caramelizing the edges until they turn sweet, mellow, and buttery. Even fennel skeptics fall for this one. Paired with creamy cannellini spread and crunchy hazelnuts, it's summer comfort that actually nourishes you.
swiss chard & eggs in purgatory
I tripled the chard in my garden this summer because it's ridiculously easy to tear off a few leaves and toss in with almost anything—beans, soups, fish. The ancient Greeks knew what they were doing when they called this green medicine. Aristotle's school literally prescribed it for health. This dish is what happens when you crack eggs directly into garlicky tomato-braised chard and let them poach until the whites set but the yolks stay molten. Complete protein from the eggs, ancient greens wisdom, and a crunchy piece of sourdough for dipping into those golden yolks. Pure comfort in a pan, ready in fifteen minutes.
vegan chocolate avocado mousse
I learned this recipe at my favorite wellness retreat on the west coast of Mexico, from a reluctant chef who kindly agreed to host his first cooking class in three years. I was barefoot and alone for two weeks, sleeping in my electricity-less casita with candlelight and crashing waves for company. His secret: perfectly ripe avocados become the creamiest chocolate mousse when you melt good dark chocolate in a bain-marie (or slowly in the microwave) and fold it together with honey, vanilla, and cinnamon. I skip the tequila and add sliced organic strawberries instead. Five minutes, five ingredients, and dessert that feels like pure indulgence but feeds your body well.
p.s.—leaving you with an ode to summer
Buona estate — Be well,
Danielle