Strawberries, Tomatoes, and Other Affairs
On red cravings, inherited tastes, and the color that keeps following me.
When I was little, I went through a phase where I would only eat red foods. This wasn’t a passing preference - it was a full-blown dietary commitment. Strawberries, watermelon, tomatoes, salmon. If it wasn’t the color of a traffic light or a firetruck, I wasn’t interested. My parents tried to coax me toward other colors. Yellow? Too suspicious. Green? Nice try.
But red - red felt safe. Or maybe it felt powerful. Or alive. I didn’t have a language for it at the time, but I think I was onto something. Even now, I find myself drawn to red on a plate: the shine of a ripe cherry, the dark gloss of roasted pepper skin, the way beet juice runs like watercolor across a white bowl. Red is appetite. It’s drama. It’s flavor that insists on being tasted.
As it turns out, there’s actually psychology behind this. Red is known to stimulate hunger - it raises heart rate, signals ripeness, draws the eye in. It’s no accident that fast food chains lean on it so heavily, or that nature uses it to single sugar, danger, or both. We’re wired to notice red. We crave it before we even know why.
Culturally, red foods often carry the weight of ritual and celebration: the crushed gochugaru in Korean kitchens, crimson saffron threads steeped in Spanish broth, bright red tumeric-stained fingers in Indian homes. In Western kitchens, red is often the star - the tomato sauce, the steak, the wine. It speaks the language of desire.
This fixation has followed me into the kitchen in ways I didn’t expect. I catch myself centering dishes around red ingredients - maybe not consciously, but with some sort of instinct. I’m starting to believe that my love for summer is rooted in the arrival of dazzling red tomatoes and strawberries. Reds have a way of grounding the plate, creating structure, and offering contrast. It is a building block. A flare. A mood.
I always knew red was my favorite color - it just took me a while to realize that might have something to do with this childhood obsession. I used to think it was simply inherited: one of my grandmothers wears red like a signature, on her nails, her lips, her lacquered purses, the other’s kitchen is abundant with red towels, red pots, red tools. It was the color of my high school and college, woven into uniforms and stitched into banners. But maybe it started earlier than all that. Maybe I’ve always been drawn to red - not just for how it looks, but for how it tastes. Now I paint my own nails red. My journal - which I develop all of my recipes in - is red. My favorite Sabre spoon - perfect for strawberry compote or a melting scoop of tomato granita - is red too. It follows me into nearly everything I love.
In honor of this obsession, and of the small child who once refused to eat anything beige, I’m sharing a few red-leaning dishes perfect for summertime. Together, they make a kind of meal that celebrates red in all its juicy, blushing, burning, blooming glory. Cook them all in one night, or let them find you one by one, like summer does.
Tomato Confit with Chili Oil + Crushed Strawberries:
for toast, soft cheese, or spooning straight from the jar
Slow-roasted cherry tomatoes collapse into garlicky olive oil. Crushed strawberries stir in at the end - just enough to round out the heat with a whisper of fruit. A little red wine vinegar keeps it alive. Spoon it onto crusty bread, or eat it standing in the kitchen before anyone else arrives.
Roasted Tomato + Pickled Strawberry Salad with Ricotta and Red Basil composed, but just barely
The tomatoes go jammy. The strawberries get pickled. Ricotta is your anchor, red basil your flair. Assemble it like a still life, let it sit a moment, then serve it before it slumps.
Spaghetti with Slow-Roasted Tomatoes, Chili Crisp, and a Handful of Pecorino meant to be eaten slightly too late at night
The tomatoes are roasted low and slow until they become jammy and rich. Chili crisp for heat, cheese for salt, pasta water for silk. It’s not trying to impress anyone - but it probably will.
Red Velvet Cake with Cream Cheese Whip + Macerated Strawberries: for birthdays, breakups, and BBQs
Classic red velvet, plush and cocoa-rich. A tangy cream cheese whip and strawberries soaked in balsamic and sugar until they glisten. Best served in thick slices, with more berries than you think you need.
These dishes capture the spirit of what I’m celebrating this summer: red fruits and vegetables at their peak - ripe, vibrant, and full of flavor. Next week, I’m excited to return to June Wine Bar for a pop-up dinner with their incredible chef Jaye Witham - a follow-up to the winter harvest celebration we hosted there last year. While that menu honored the quiet richness of winter, this one is all about summer’s brightest reds: tomatoes and strawberries.
The dishes I’m sharing here aren’t the exact ones on the menu (a chef has to keep some secrets), but they’re inspired by the same ingredients and the same impulse to highlight color, flavor, and season.
If you love food that blushes, simmers, and stains your fingers, I’d love to see you there.
Wednesday, July 9th, 5pm until sell out
June Wine Bar - Brooklyn, NY
Walk-ins welcome, reservations available here
Come hungry. Come curious. Come ready to eat red.
With red-stained hands and a full heart,
Lily
This post took me down memory lane! ❤️
Very cool! Never realized how prevalent red was in food!