Sara's on vacation, and will return in two weeks. Here are some great past editions of Edible Witness.

OMGBBQ (March 23, 2010): How many propane tanks have you been through this barbeque season? Sara's first grilling dispatch dates back to early spring.

Pork is the new bread (February 9, 2010): An ode to the versatility and deliciousness of pancetta.

Try this at home (May 4, 2010): With a bit of confidence, basic supplies and some experimentation, you can replicate the meals served in your favourite restaurants.

Flipping through my more recent columns, it occurred to me that I’ve been kinda sweet on vegetables and salads and woefully neglecting the needs of my carnivore friends. I feel like a jerk. This column’s looking like it could use some animal protein. And what better time to talk about meat then when BBQ season is in full swing, necessitating purchases like these?

People are often superstitious about their approach to flavouring meat for the grill: keep it simple for good cuts of meat (salt, pepper and olive oil for a quality ribeye); use a longer marinade time for tougher cuts like short ribs used for Korean-style Galbi, or jerk chicken. Still others insist on basting religiously with sauces before, during or after grilling.

Often overlooked, however, are the dry rubs, which are the quickest and easiest means of flavouring your meat. Dry rubs are incredibly versatile and lend themselves well to tinkering — after experimenting for a while, most people will eventually find some secret balance of spicy, savoury and sweet that suits them best (and personalized jars of spice rub make great gifts!).

After the jump: Rub-making tips, and some base recipies to get you started.

Chilled soup is to the summer blahs what hot soup is to the winter blahs. Especially chilled soup with with fresh  herbs and summery-sweet peas. And a dollop of sour cream. And maybe some garlicky grilled crostini. Oh, mama.

I’m about to tell you to do some manual labour (even though it’s hot), because there is nothing quite like fresh shelled peas. Fresh peas have a mild, sweet flavour that you simply can’t get from canned or frozen peas. They can brighten up pastas, risottos, soups and salads, and are fabulous just slightly steamed with a bit of butter and salt. They generally show up starting in the spring, but I generally see them in Toronto grocery stores this time of year — and they’re only around for a few weeks, so take advantage and choose your pea pods wisely!

After the jump: What to do with those well-chosen peas, including crucial tips on when to add the seasoning.

To usher in the official days (and long, lovely evenings) of summer, I’m dedicating this Edible Witness to the summer cocktail — particularly those made in volumes no smaller than a full pitcher, to be served with friends at home or at a cottage, and always outside.

Rather than make you listen to me yammer on about a recent encounter with an amazing glass of white wine sangria full of fresh peaches and raspberries (though that’s a true story), and in the spirit of summer vacation, I’m making this an all-recipe column. Go get yourself a nice glass pitcher and tell your friends to come over.

Happy Canada Day everyone!

After the jump: Get your bourbon iced tea on (not to mention your sangria, mango daiquiry, and pineapple mint mule).