There’s no cream in Cucumber Cream With Tomato Salsa; the soup’s surprisingly smooth texture inspired the name. (Deb Lindsey/For The Washington Post)
Food and Dining Editor

The best cooking is born of necessity. At least that’s the case in my house. My favorite recipes always happen when I’m forced to react to a glut of something, or a shortage of something, or perhaps both.

It was a glut I was responding to on a recent weekend when I served cucumbers with one of my own salad dressing recipes at the Bloomingdale Farmers Market as a way to promote my latest cookbook. I didn’t come close to using all the beautiful cucumbers that market manager Robin Shuster had supplied for the occasion, so when I got home I scoured around for a new idea that would use them.

The answer was in Michele Scicolone’s “The Italian Vegetable Cookbook” (Houghton Mifflin Harcourt, 2014). She writes about how, one Roman summer when temperatures got stuck in the 90s for days (sounds like a Washington spring, doesn’t it?), she survived on a soup made of little more than cucumbers, scallions, water and a little vinegar. But what seemed so simple on paper got a little more interesting once I made it: Removing the seeds from the cukes gives the soup a particularly pleasing texture, one that prompted Scicolone to call it “cucumber cream,” even though the soup happens to be vegan.

The slight gelatinous quality reminded me of aloe vera — but much tastier, I assure you. With a tomato-cucumber-basil salsa on top, in fact, it was good enough that I don’t plan to wait for another cucumber glut before I make it again.