Whipped Ricotta with Mixed Berries, Or Reminiscing on Holidays Past

Medically reviewed by Christiana George Updated Date: January 6, 2026

This Fourth of July, Chris and I will find ourselves alone, with nary a barbecue or picnic to attend. It’s a lonely position to be in, but such is the case when you’re a stranger to an area I suppose.

We should really be used to it by now.

Last Thanksgiving, we were in Puno, Peru. I believe we ate street hamburgers, 33 cents each, and arroz con leche—also bought off the street from a man with a cartful of the stuff—for dinner. We were resolute about not making a big deal out of the day. I made a big deal out of the day.

For Christmas, we were in Mendoza, Argentina, and celebrated the evening at a huge hostel-organized dinner where we endured ham stuffed in chicken stuffed in something else because I didn’t want to spent the holiday alone, just the two of us. The evening quickly devolved into a girls-gone-wild soiree, where tequila shots were generously given out to those brave enough (or wanton enough) to slurp them from some poor girl’s bellybutton (I was not wanton enough to be that girl).

And New Year’s Eve was celebrated in Santiago, Chile. We’d debated trying to be in Valparaiso that night, but, again, in the attempt to not make a big deal over the holiday, we opted to stay in Chile’s capital instead. Where we were invited to a concert which turned out to be more like a rave and spent the entire night alternating between momentary blindness and momentary deafness. It turned out to be one of our more fun New Year’s Eves.

If this last year has taught me anything, it’s how not to make a big deal over holidays.

But I’m not saying we won’t be a little lonely.

Sometimes, all it takes is going through the motions to make a day feel festive. Or make-believe motions in this case.

If I were playing hostess to a yardful of guests, I would totally serve this dessert as a 4th of July finale, after an evening of food-gorging, fireworks-watching, and beer-guzzling. It’s sweet, velvety, and cold, the cream cheese imparting a slight tartness, the ricotta grounding it firmly as a luxurious dessert. While not heavy, it’s certainly rich. And the berries, oh the berries: I will miss them when they’re out of season.

WHIPPED RICOTTA WITH MIXED BERRIES

Adapted from Bon Appetit

Serves 6

Ingredients:

2 cups whole-milk ricotta cheese
4 ounces (1/2 cup) cream cheese, room temperature
4 Tbsp sugar
3 Tbsp honey
3/4 tsp vanilla extract
4 cups mixed fruit (strawberries, blueberries, peaches, raspberries, etc.)
2 tsp fresh lemon juice

Directions:

Mix ricotta cheese, cream cheese, 2 Tbsp sugar, honey, and vanilla extract thoroughly (alternatively, blend everything together in a food processor and transfer to a bowl). Cover and refrigerate until slightly set (about 2 hours).

Toss fruit with lemon juice and remaining 2 Tbsp sugar in a large bowl. Let stand at room temperature for about 30 minutes.

Divide ricotta among six bowls. Top with berries and serve.

Note: You can go all-out patriotic like I did, and use blueberries and strawberries in your fruit blend, but I think peaches would work terrifically as well.

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Caponata, And the Rainstorm of Rainstorms

Appetizers

Christiana George
Updated Date:
June 8, 2023

Remember how I said that I’d rekindled my love for eggplant? Well, part of that was helped along by some amazing caponata—an Italian eggplant appetizer—I had one tempestuous evening at a little Italian restaurant close to Lincoln Center.
There’s something so glamorous about dining al fresco during a storm. While many restaurant patrons made for drier parts, namely indoors, our table staunchly remained, seated at the threshold of getting absolutely drenched. Lightning streaked spectacularly across the sky, sideways(!), followed by the low rumbling of thunder. And the light of passing cars, refracted by the rain, shimmered like mirages, except their honking sounded all too real. I will never tire of these dramatic shows.
But back to that caponata. There we were, seated outside during a thrilling thunderstorm, sheets of rain spraying at us at oblique angles, and I was downing eggplant like there was no tomorrow. It was so flavorful, so moist! I forgot my manners. I was the only un-glamorous element of the whole setup. At least everyone was distracted by the lightning around us and a leak above one of our heads.

Back at home, I tried to replicate the dish, starting with choice eggplant from the Union Square Greenmarket. I will never tire of the Greenmarket. (But I can’t wait for the damn F train to get fixed so I’m not trudging 12 blocks back to the subway with quickly-wilting plant matter.)
It turns out, there’s no one recipe for caponata. At its base, it’s eggplant cooked until it’s really soft, in a tomato-y sauce. But beyond that, well, just as there are thousands of regional cuisines in Italy, there are endless variations of this classic antipasto.
I stuck with good old pantry staples.
I realize it doesn’t appear wholly appetizing, but please try not to judge it harshly. It does its best. Eggplant just sort of, well, does that wilting thing, where it turns grayish-brown and flaccid, but that doesn’t make it any less lovable. Not to me at least.
And its taste? Well, it’s not the same as what I remember. This caponata didn’t turn out as flavorful or as moist. It’s kind of a different food altogether. Less tang, more… something. I wasn’t sure what to think. But then my friend came over the other night, and we shoveled most of it down. As if there was no tomorrow. I forgot my manners. And I must’ve looked so un-glamorous. But I looked up and saw that she wasn’t noticing, because she was doing the same.
CAPONATA
Serves 6 to 8
From Bon Appetit
Ingredients:

5 Tbsp olive oil
1-1/2 pound eggplant, unpeeled, cut into 1/2 inch cubes
1 medium onion, cubed
4 large garlic cloves, chopped
1 14-1/2 ounce can diced tomatoes with Italian seasonings in juice
3 Tbsp red wine vinegar
2 Tbsp drained capers
1/3 cup chopped fresh basil
Toasted pine nuts
Directions:
Heat oil in heavy large pot over medium heat. Add eggplant, onion, and garlic cloves. Saute until eggplant is soft and brown, about 15 minutes. Add diced tomatoes with juice, then red wine vinegar and capers. Cover and simmer until eggplant and onion are very tender, stirring occasionally, about 12 minutes. Season caponata to taste with salt and pepper. Mix in fresh basil. Transfer caponata to serving bowl. Sprinkle with toasted pine nuts.