le sauce

wild arugula salad with parmesan snow

So fussy, to say Parmesan snow! But the texture of the cheese is an essential component of this salad--our "house" salad if we had to choose one. And it's the only fussy part of this salad too--except I would encourage you to get your hands on fine, wild arugula which seems increasingly available, if you can. Use any young arugula in a pinch, and any young leaf of your choosing if you're not a fan of arugula.

If a gigantic bowl of salad seems too much for your table of 2 or 4, know that we still think that from time to time too, but know enough to serve "too much" anyway. There are never, ever any leftovers. It's light as air and endlessly enjoyable--and then it ultimately ends too quickly.

(See how this recipe fits into a lazy, Sunday, spaghetti dinner party menu!)

Wild Arugula Salad with Parmesan Snow

Grate the cheese with a rasp or microplane grater--it makes all the difference. I would encourage you to get your hands on fine, wild arugula which seems increasingly available, if you can. Use any young arugula in a pinch, any young leaf of your choosing if you're not a fan of arugula.

6 cups (loosely packed) wild arugula, washed and completely dried
1/4 c extra virgin olive oil
2 tsp Champagne or white wine vinegar
1/2 tsp Dijon mustard
1/4 tsp kosher salt
1/8 tsp freshly ground black pepper
A small wedge of lemon
75-100g piece of Parmesan

Plate greens in a large bowl. Combine oil, vinegar, Dijon mustard, salt and pepper, whisk together until the dressing emulsifies (if you want to add the vinegar and Dijon to the oil in a steady stream while whisking--do it. I find dressings with mustard stay together or come back together so well, you don't need to make the effort). Set aside until ready to serve.

Whisk dressing again just before serving. Pour most of it over the greens and toss the greens with your hands to coat well with the dressing. Don't overdress the leaves but feel free to use more dressing if needed. Taste and add a touch of salt if needed. Squeeze a bit of lemon juice over top. Grate Parmesan right over the leaves and be generous. When you have a decent pile of snow on top, serve.

Makes 4-6 side servings or 2 dinner servings.

 

weekend class: roasted beet and blood orange salad

weekend class = learning a thing or two about cooking and dining well. techniques, ingredients, recipes projects that definitely need to be tackled on the weekend. the result? weekend-class fare, of course.

There is a place for salads in winter. A particular kind of salad, and one that you are not likely to want or have in the summer. This type of salad in question is confident and outspoken.

It is sometimes late-Friday-night surly, all tangy and a touch bitter, and sometimes it is Sunday-dinner filling, with all kinds of carbs and proteins landing with a thud in your bowl. And when the salad involves roasting ingredients, you almost always restrict it's invitation to winter, don't you? This recipe I'm sharing is not my creation but one I was compelled to make this winter, and one I reserved for weekend cooking because while easy to make, there are several components. A couple of recipes within this recipe. The resulting salad is definitely as brazen as the winter salads I described. Powerful. Violent even--the dressing at least. 

Well look at it. That is violent pink if I ever saw it and wait until you taste it. It's not for the timid and in my opinion, it can't really share the table with anything other than a docile piece of bread. My appreciation of the sharp-as-a-scolding dressing was aqcuired over many bites. I teetered on not liking it, but the enthusiastic acceptance and praise by everyone else at the table (a diverse group, too) helped me see its finer points. It saved the salad from being that fine but all too common roasted beet and nut salad you still see on all too many menus. And though I'm not one of those people that thinks every star ingredient needs a foil, this vinaigrette which gets it's kick from raw shallots is a nice partner for those beets, if--and this is what I will do differently next time--you dress the salad as you go. The amount on the beets alone, and maybe a splash off a fork thrown from a distance, is all I'd need on my greens on a normal day. If you're feeling like you can go head to head with a stronger salad, get as surly as you want, I'll get right out of your way.

This salad is from that great cookbook that I was gifted recently, and the recipe is from that awesome restaurant in Brooklyn I raved about--the one where I had that killer other salad that spawned this recipe. I think it's worth checking making while you still feel like roasting vegetables. Oh--and do not waste that garlic that the recipe has you roast for the sole purpose of infusing the beets. Much less violent than anything above, you need to spread those cloves on hot, buttered baguette and sprinkle with sea salt and the roasted rosemary too for the garlic bread of your fantasies.

mango salad with hazelnut and lime dressing

My little cousins (well, they're really my cousins' kids) are strange. I think. This is not the kind of salad I'd expect them to like, and in fact, I warned them against it because of the red bird chili sprinkled through it--I had even more in mine than I cite in the recipe below. 

At first I thought they were asking if they had to try some of it, since it was laid out with the other food at a recent family event and the kids in our family are always encouraged to try everything.

So I said, "Oh, no, don't worry, it's too hot for you."

"But we can try a little, right? And if it's too hot, we don't have to take any more."

"Errr...ok...."

Seriously? They wanted a salad of fruit, nuts and herbs, that might be too hot for them? I was so not that sophisticated when I was eleven. There was also a nine-year-old, the sole vegetarian in her family for years by her own initiative, who raved about my olive oil cake with sauternes. But that's a story for an upcoming post. Weird, I tell you. In a good way.

But you, I fully endorse this recipe to you. I am biased, but I love it. It's nutty from the toasted almonds but because the base of the dressing is hazelnut oil. The most lip-smacking part comes from the lime flesh that is added to the dressing. Having made it both with and without, I swear it makes all the difference. I sometimes partake of mango salad at Thai restaurants, even though I know there's a little fish sauce spiking the flavour. This is the perfect vegetarian version, equally complex, balanced and delicious in it's own right. Again, biased, but I have to say, I prefer this one! Let me know if you agree?

creamy kale salad, five leaves restaurant & other new york inspiration*

My friend Steph has been staying with me on and off for the past two weeks and in that time, she has requested this salad three times, on top of the two times I made it for her prior. She really likes this salad but to be fair, she also just really, really likes kale. I, on the other hand like kale, but am not as addicted to it as she is, and I can still honestly say that I still haven't got enough of this salad. I think you'll enjoy it just as much and you might have it on repeat in your house once you try it too.

Kale leaves are perfect for the very creamy, salty dressing that needs both a texture and a flavour that can stand up to it. It was inspired by a kale salad I had at Five Leaves in Brooklyn. I was in New York City a month ago and I was really looking forward to eating at Five Leaves, which had been on my list of restaurants to try when I was there in the fall of 2009. I ran out of time then, so I put it near the top of my list on my recent visit, and it's as laid back, cool and delicious a destination as I'd heard.

My friend, Lulu, and I loved everything we ordered there, and I indulged in this salad even though I usually stay away from dressings which contain anchovies, and theirs did. It was essentially a spicy kale Caesar salad with hazelnuts. In my version, olives and feta combine to make a umami-packed, very convincing faux-Caesar dressing. And the spice and nuts in their salad reminded me instantly of the nutty paprika oil from a recipe I created a year ago. It adds just the right finish and I highly recommend making the tiny extra effort. And that you visit Five Leaves if you ever get the chance. 

(Above Five Leaves, Brooklyn; their Chopped Black Kale.)

*As you'd expect, I was inspired by so many food experiences from my last visit to New York, so this week I'll be bringing you my favourite tastes. Hope you enjoy it! 

leaves please

Did I mention that I've been writing some pieces for iVillage Canada? I'm basically just daydreaming about things I like to eat and how I like to prepare them. At least once a year, around this time, I go a little nuts for lettuces. Yes. Leaves. Which sounds so boring and is actually so exciting, if you get to have really good leaves, picked very recently. If that's a new thing for you, get yourself to a local market, buy any leaves you'd liked, picked that morning, hopefully, and try them before you dismiss me as a nerd prone to exaggeration. I am both of those things, but I'm also right in this case.

Aside from gushing about leaves, I shared some salad ideas with them too, which I thought you might like to see here too...

Creamy kale salad, similar to a Caesar salad, is something I've been making and tweaking for weeks now. If you mince or smash a clove of garlic and let it sit in some extra-virgin olive oil while you prepare everything else, it will infuse just the right amount of flavour. Strain the garlic out before pureeing the oil with some soft goat cheese, lemon juice, salt and pepper for the creamiest, pale dressing to toss the kale leaves in. Top with any roasted nuts and some black olives--but I have a new spin on this salad that I'll share with you here very soon. My favourite version yet.
 
Years ago, I made a vegetarian spin of a famous Jamie Oliver salad -- his used prosciutto; mine uses Niçoise olives. Toss a mess of young arugula with a honey, lemon and black pepper dressing, add large basil leaves, quartered figs and torn, fresh mozzarella or bocconcini. It's an entertaining-worthy salad that will have you licking the bowl, a conundrum I'll let you sort out.
 
That great, green, leafy lettuce that I was gushing about hardly needs any primping if you're a fan like me. At most, I make a dressing that's 3-to-1 extra-virgin olive oil to vinegar, seasoned well. I've read that salt that sits in vinegar for a few minutes dissolves better into dressings, so that's what I do. A dab of mustard will help emulsify the vinaigrette, but the rule is that you must whisk the oil into the vinegar in a slow stream, not just shake a jar of your dressing really hard. (Do as I say, not as I do!)
 
Some advice on storing these leafy greens: They are delicate and have a limited life once picked, that's just how it is. When I get mine home I rinse them well, and then soak them in a lot of cold water. I lift them – trying not to disturb any dirt that sunk to the bottom – then I spin the leaves or lay them out on clean dish towels to dry completely. Getting them dry is key: dressing clings to dry leaves and if you're storing them for a day or two, dry leaves wrapped in some paper towels before being sealed in large plastic bags or containers will be just as beautiful as the day you bought them.

asparagus mimosa

You know why else French people don't get fat? Because they invent recipes wherein you fight with eggs. They look small but they're tough and it's always a toss up who'll win. I've whisked egg whites into peaks that make it through soufflé-ing, and for this dish I just pushed two hard-boiled eggs through a fine mesh strainer. Which, although not complicated, is a not bad workout for the bicep of your dominent arm.

I'm not complaining about the effort it takes to make "couscous-like" eggs, as James put it, for asparagus mimosa. These eggs are light as air after being sieved and I love the French for simultaneously elevating two ingredients in one simple, classic dish.

You just boil some asparagus for about 4-5 minutes, then transfer them to an ice bath. Then add two room-temperature eggs to the boiling water for 10 minutes, and meanwhile, drain and pat the asparagus stalks dry. You'll also have time to mince half a shallot, add it, salt, pepper and a dollop of dijon mustard to a healthy glug of white wine vinegar (a tarragon vinegar is traditional in this case, but you could also muddle some fresh tarragon into your dressing) and then stream in a generous amount of extra virgin olive oil while you whisk. Taste and adjust your French vinaigrette and drizzle half of it evenly over the stalks. Dunk your eggs in the ice water when they're done, peel and pass through a sieve (focus on how pretty they look when you start to curse, about 30 seconds into this process.) Then season them, sprinkle them across the asparagus and pour the remaining dressing on top.

This kind of thing is the very definition of lunch, don't you think? I pondered that as I enjoyed this lovely meal, as well as how to work only my left bicep after attempting these French recipes. I've decided to learn to open wine bottles with my weaker arm. That'll balance things out in no time. 

winter salad of fennel, orange and hazelnut

this is the kind of salad that i actually reserve for the colder months. there's the citrus, which makes me think of the holidays(!), and the boldness of crunchy fennel and whole parsley leaves that makes me take it seriously. because who wants a wimpy salad in winter? you need something a little richer right now, like something spiked with hazelnut oil and red wine vinegar. a salad that with a chunk of baguette--and a glass of wine--equals dinner.

 

especially when you add a little more fat...

 

feeding time

my family and i went to the zoo this past weekend. all 26 of us, including 10 kids between the ages of 1 and 11. and surprisingly, it wasn't that crazy, even though we threw a picnic into the mix, opting to bring a pot-luck lunch instead of buying overpriced, unhealthy food. i signed us up for guacamole and a "hearty salad". i didn't have a salad in mind when i said that, but i wanted to come up with something that the kids would really like.

i kicked around the idea of different pasta salads, and i originally wanted to do a layered salad in individual glass jars, figuring that a unique serving presentation would add to the appeal. but i wasn't sure how to make it "zoo" or "safari"-themed. i kicked around a bunch of complicated ideas until james finally interjected with "green pesto. animal-shaped pasta". riiiiight! that would even make accommodating the gluten and cow dairy intolerant easy: goat milk gouda to replace the parmesan, i'd seen animal-shaped rice pasta at the market, and regular rice pasta would do for the adults' batch. i even threw in blanched kale and broccoli with the bright green basil. delicious, if we did say so ourselves.

the one idea i had in my head from the beginning was that i wanted to personalize the jars for the kids, keeping with the theme if possible. too bad i left this detail till, oh, about 5 minutes after we were supposed to leave. 

good thing we were concocting these salads at my parents' place. it was mom to the rescue with twine and i asked if i could steal some sage leaves from her garden. 

we all liked the final result, but what really mattered was what the judges would think.

and...

the kids' faces actually lit up! they loved their very own jars of salad and they sat down with them and started eating on their own, even the little ones! we might as well have been handing out personalized lootbags. i kinda wished i had one of my own too. not just because of the whole jar thing. animal pasta is just way more fun than regular pasta.   

p.s. this is the 250th post on this blog, and a fitting time to thank you for reading over the past two years! i'm hoping to make some improvements and additions over the next two months, so please stay tuned!

figs in a sexy (veg) salad

this is my favourite way to enjoy figs, and a clear exception to my no-basil-leaves-in-salad philosophy. it's an adaptation of jamie oliver's "easiest, sexiest salad in the world"...and i think mine's better. i love you, jamie, but i think it's true!

when i discovered his salad, at least 5 years ago, i was already vegetarian and i wanted to omit the parma ham and but retain the saltiness and depth that it would have brought to the salad. so i added olives (usually black, sun-dried olives but your favourite will do) and i added arugula as well for its peppery-ness, which is a great balance to the very sweet dressing. 

right now is when you want to grab those fresh figs that are showing up, because while sweet stone fruit might be fine in this salad, they really can't compare to those sexy figs. if you get your hands on some and you do eat meat, try mine and jamie's and tell me who wins!

warm chickpea salad with sesame dressing

 

i'm already putting my new cookbook to good use. the vegetarian option by simon hopkinson is full of recipes i want to make. but i promised to bring a salad to a big bbq this long weekend so the warm chickpea salad jumped out at me--easy to make, not many fussy ingredients, and i could see how it could double or even triple to feed a large group. i thought it was an interesting salad because i wouldn't have really thought to combine chickpeas and a dressing that includes what's essentially a sesame butter. but i got even more interesting...

black olives and sesame butter? really? 

really.

did i mention the chili oil? the mint? it was only after trying it that i thought of spicy hummous, tabouleh with mint and parsley, and olives working together perfectly. but a taste of the sesame dressing and black olive in the same bite still woke me up every time i tried it. the flavours didn't compete, they were quite nice together, just different, for me anyway.

the reaction from the crowd? delight. and second helpings. and in case i've made you skeptical, rest assured...

 

 

every extra drop of the delicious sesame paste was scraped into an air-tight container and set in my freezer for a future use. the paste is delicious and i can't wait to use it again, whether with this salad, on soba noodles, or mixed into a curry. you could even use it as a dip--it's so good that you'll kind of want to have it straight from the bowl. i might have had a spoonful or two that way myself.

warm chickpea salad with sesame dressing

from the vegetarian option

sh headnotes: serves 2. this salad is absolutely made by the inclusion of my sesame paste (see below), which also appears in several other recipes. make sure the canned chickpeas are of a good pedigree--ideally a greek or middle eastern brand. also, if the olives are packed in oil, use this for the dressing.

ys note: i made a large batch to bring to a potluck bbq--(served as a salad without bread). i tripled the quantity of chickpeas, sesame seeds and sesame paste used, but only doubled everything else. we ate it served at room temperature which i liked even better than when it was warmer. oh, and i saved the seeds and juice of the tomatoes to use in a sauce the next day. that's the heart of the tomato and it's delicious!

2 1/2 c canned chickpeas

for the dressing
2 tsp sesame seeds
1 ripe tomatoes
1 garlic clove, peeled and minced
2 scallions, trimmed and finely sliced
2 tsp red wine vinegar
2 tbs olive oil
1 tbs sesame paste
1 tbs each chopped italian parsley and mint
1 heaping tbs chopped black olives

for the dressing, lightly toast the sesame seeds in a dry pan over medium hear until fragrant, and cool slightly. peel, seed, and chop the tomatoes and mix together with the rest of the dressing ingredients in a roomy bowl.

tip the chickpeas into a pan, bring to a simmer, and heat briefly for a few minutes. drain in a strainer and rinse with boiled water from the kettle.

add the hot chickpeas to the dressing, stir together, and serve, spooned over slices of toasted sourdough or country bread, if you like.

sesame paste

from the vegetarian option

sh headnote: makes about 1 3/4 cups. you need a powerful, small food processor to make this paste. for the best flavour, i feel it is important to use asian brands of chili and sesame oils.

ys note: i used 1 tbs of chili oil skimmed from the top of my bottle of chili seed oil and it was enough heat for me--and you know how i like heat! try that first and work your way up if you want more.

2/3 c sesame seeds
3 tbs finely grated ginger (juice saved!)
1 large garlic clove, peeled
2 tbs light soy sauce
4 tbs mirin (japanese cooking wine)
1 to 2 tbs chili oil
1/3 to 1/2 c sesame oil, plus a little extra to serve
2 tbs lemon juice
1/2 c warm water
1 to 2 tbs sugar, to taste

lightly toast the sesame seeds in a dry pan over medium heat until fragrant, and cool slightly. tip into a small food processor and add all of the other ingredients. grind and pulse until you have a paste that is fully emulsified and super-smooth.

pour into two small, lidded containers, smooth the surface, and trickle over a little extra sesame oil, to preserve the surface. put in the refrigerator, where the paste will keep happily for anything up to 1 month. or you could freeze one of them, if you like.