Salade Nicoise

Way back in 9th grade French class, Ms. Gold introduced me to salade Nicoise. She was one of those teachers who inspires students and encouraged us to appreciate France and French culture in addition to teaching us grammar. We listened to Plastic Bertrand in class ( I do hope some of mes amis are reading!), went to see French films and ate in French restaurants in New York. She was young, hip and quirky and we loved it all.

Each year with Ms. Gold and then, later, with Madame DeMuth, Randi Cohen and I baked a traditional Buche de Noel for the class holiday party. Randi's mother always let us bake the Buche at their house, and as best as I can remember, was also nice enough to clean up after us. Despite this largesse, and as much fun as I remember having, I suspect the complicated and labor intensive recipe which required many pans, pots and a candy thermometer, is why I don't bake much now. I still have the recipe, a faded blue "ditto" with creases from where I had it folded into eight for many years, just in case.

But the salade Nicoise stuck. As soon as it gets warm in DC and the farmstands start carrying green beans and new potatoes, I begin to crave this perfect salad as a light meal. Recently, the stars aligned: it was warm and I was able to buy some fresh potatoes and beans.

This is, as is often the case with me, not really a recipe. I'm not a traditionalist and I love to improvise a little so I'll just give you some guidelines.


A bed of butter, Boston or leaf lettuce

A few handfuls green beans, I particularly like thinner ones or haricots verts, lightly steamed or blanched and then plunged into ice cold water

A few new red or fingerling potatoes per person, can also use baby Yukon golds, cut in half or quarters if large and boiled for about 10 minutes until fork-tender

grape or cherry tomatoes, or cut up tomatoes

tuna in oil - use a great quality brand in olive oil. For the salad in the picture, I used a 10 oz. jar of Flott.

hard boiled egg (I like to try to leave the centers just a little under hard-cooked) - 1 per person - cut in half

olives

thinly sliced red onion

capers for a garnish - well rinsed, salt-packed are best

anchovies - curl one on a few of the egg halves

vinaigrette - recipe below

This photo shows our salad before I dressed it, as the second after I drizzled on the vinaigrette, everyone pounced! You'll notice, however, that there are neither anchovies nor olives, both traditional components of a salade Nicoise. As whole anchovies are not a favorite in our house, I sometimes add a little anchovy paste to the vinaigrette in lieu of curling the fillets atop the eggs, although this time I did neither. As I'm the only olive eater, I add those to my plate alone. The cucumbers are a non traditional addition - I had a seedless cucumber in the salad bin I felt like using up and thought it would add some crunch.

Here is the piece de resistance (wish I could figure out how to add in the accents!)...I used a jar of Flott tuna from Sicily on this salad. I was raised in a "tuna in water" house and have bought only that for much of my adult life. For a mayo tuna salad, that's still what I buy. But for salade Nicoise, tuna in oil is preferred. If you buy a really great brand like Flott (or Ortiz "conserva" as I've learned from a food52-er), the tuna is packed in high quality olive oil and just adds to the flavor of the dish. You can drain it just a little bit before serving and you can cut back a little on the oil in the dressing or just not drizzle the dressing on the tuna. If you buy a great quality tuna in oil, the oil itself is a great quality olive oil.

If you prefer, this is also terrific with some thinly sliced, lightly seared fresh tuna. No matter which tuna you use, serve with a crisp white wine and some good French bread.

Basic Vinaigrette for Salade Nicoise

1 teaspoon Dijon mustard
1 tablespoon wine vinegar
1/4 cup good quality extra virgin olive oil
pinch salt
few grinds pepper

1. In a small bowl, whisk together the mustard and vinegar.

2. Slowly pour in the olive oil with one hand while whisking with the other.

3. Add salt and pepper to taste.

The Springiest Potato Salad Ever

As I've mentioned many times before, I just don't love mayonnaise based salads. I've been a vinaigrette gal since way back. I began thinking about this potato salad the other day when Food52 announced that this week's contest is "your best potato salad." This one immediately came to mind and as I checked back into my blog archives, I found that I never actually posted this recipe. I almost posted this recipe last year at exactly this time (May 28, 2009 - at least I'm consistent), but didn't post it then because it seemed to me I'd been overdoing it with vinaigrette recipes.

I happened upon some really fresh, tiny, new red potatoes at the farm stand last weekend and although this dish is tasty with any small potato (I've used red, different fingerling varieties and baby Yukon golds all with great success) these new potatoes were something special. In fact, all the vegetable components of this dish are completely fresh at farm stands in the DC area right now. Make it this weekend for your Memorial Day barbecues! Later on in the summer, you can easily sub in minced regular garlic and scallions, or even minced shallots for the spring onions.

So one year later, here it is. Karen R. please let me know if this differs from what I sent you last year!

Wendy's Springiest Potato Salad Ever

(serves 4 - 6 as a side dish)

2 lbs. washed new red potatoes, halved or quartered if larger. I like to try to buy the ones as close to one inch around as possible. Try to keep all the pieces close to the same size so they cook in the same amount of time.

1 teaspoon Dijon mustard

1 teaspoon whole grain mustard

1 tablespoon red wine or champagne vinegar

1/4 cup olive oil

a couple of pinches of salt, more to taste

a few grinds of pepper, more to taste

scant 1/4 cup thinly sliced green or spring garlic, the kind that looks like scallions (or two cloves minced regular garlic)

1/4 cup thinly sliced green or spring onions, plus another tablespoon for garnish (or scallions - or even 2 small minced shallots)

1 cup pea shoots, roughly chopped (should be a few large handfuls when whole)



1. Put cut potatoes in a large saucepan and cover with water by about 1/2 to 1 inch. Lightly salt the water. Bring to a boil and then lower to a low boil/high simmer for 8 - 10 minutes. Check potato piece after about 8 minutes by piercing with a fork. You want the fork to slide in easily, but you don't want to let the potatoes get mushy.

2. While the potatoes cook, in a large bowl, whisk the mustards and vinegar together. Add the olive oil in a stream, whisking as you add. Add salt and pepper. Add the green onions and green garlic to the vinaigrette and toss.

3. When potatoes are fully cooked, drain in a colander and immediately add into the bowl with the vinaigrette. Mix gently.

4. Add in the chopped pea shoots and toss gently but well. Taste for salt and pepper.

5. Garnish with reserved green onions or scallions.

6. Serve warm or at room temperature. If you make this earlier in the day, refrigerate in the interim, but take out about 1/2 hour before you want to serve so that the salad can come back to room temperature.

In honor of Gourmet

I have been receiving Gourmet, monthly, since 1990 and, until a few years ago when I began clipping the recipes I wanted to try and then recycling the remainder of the magazine, I saved them all. I guess I'm a pack rat of sorts, honestly come by via my Dad. My kitchen is packed with over a hundred cookbooks as well as assorted issues of Bon Appetit, Food and Wine and my shelf of Gourmet. These magazines somehow made the cut (or wholesale purge of extraneous possessions) during moves in 1990, 1994 and 2006. With each move, the commitment was greater - the first time, there were fewer than a year's worth, while during the last move they filled a couple of boxes. A few months ago, I considered tossing them, or maybe donating them to a school yard sale, but didn't and now that Gourmet has closed up shop, I'm so glad I saved them.

I've always enjoyed reading Gourmet, even in the earlier days when I worked long hours and carry out was my best friend. Cook or no, there was much to love about the magazine, with it's literary articles, glossy photos that draw you right up to the table and the extensive travel features. All you needed was a love of food. For me, travel is always intricately tied in to the food of the locale, so I loved reading about how food affected and even guided other people's trips. This was especially so after Ruth Reichl took over. It's been a treat to travel the world with Gourmet.While many of the recipes might have been more complicated or time consuming than I would make regularly, others have been simple and delicious.

I've been skimming some of the collection lately and am planning to participate in a monthly project in which food bloggers cook an item from that month's issue from any year, and then submit it to one central blog called Gourmet, Unbound. Sort of a Gourmet tribute blog. In preparation for the January event, I made a soup from the January 1990 issue - my very first - called Portuguese Kale and Potato Soup.

I prepared this soup in anticipation of a snow storm cum blizzard which eventually dropped 23 inches of snow according the the tv news. Pretty unusual for the DC area! We initially ate it as we watched out the window for the snow to begin, which unfortunately happened before our teenaged son could get home from an evening activity. The snow began falling around 9 p.m., and the roads iced up pretty quickly, making for a white-knuckle trip home for him around 10 p.m. By morning, we must have had almost a foot of snow. We cleared the walkway and front steps, window well covers, HVAC units and the car left outside and parts of the driveway a total of three times, twice on Saturday and again on Sunday. Between the two bouts of shoveling on Saturday, we were able to eat the leftovers for a warming and delicious lunch.

I had planned to use the kale I had growing in my outdoor ornamental pots, sort of a pre-snow final harvest, but the plants were saggy and wan due to the recent cold snap. Instead, I used some really perky and bright chard I had found at the grocery store earlier in the week and had not yet figured out how or when I would use. While at the store in a final pre-storm shopping trip, I also tried to replace the moldy chorizo that had been hiding in my deli bin for more months than I can remember. Though successful with the chard, I was unable to find chorizo in that store and substituted Portugese linguica sausage which is pretty similar. I figured that it's a Portuguese soup anyway. In fact, this is really a caldo verde, which should use linguica. Lastly, I didn't even bother to remove the russet potatoes from the pot to a blender. I simply crushed the chunks against the side of the pot with the back of my spoon.

Healthwise, with a pork sausage, there's always a little fat. However, you could easily substitute a lower-fat spicy turkey or chicken andouille sausage. As always, though, check the sodium content on the stock and sausage! With all the greens, and carrots, though, this is not so bad a choice, especially after a good shovelling workout.

Funny, as I searched Epicurious for a link to the recipe, I found that in the last issue Gourmet published, November 2009, they included a similar soup. While they didn't rename it, this time they acknowledge that the soup is actually a Portuguese caldo verde, and recommend using either chourico or linguica sausage, as I did.

It was delicious and warming for this time of year, and relatively easy to prepare. You can find the recipe as printed in 1990 at:

www.epicurious.com/recipes/food/views/Portuguese-kale-and-potato-soup-10261

Comfort Mash

Celeriac (seh-LER-ee-ak - I finally looked up the pronunciation!) or celery root is a knobby, brown skinned vegetable with cream colored flesh that has a taste similar to celery with a little more bite. It is actually the root of a type of celery grown specifically for its root, rather than the root of the type of celery we commonly eat. It's currently available at farm markets and is about the size of a baseball or softball. It's a lot less ugly once you peel it.



Not long ago I cut some up and roasted the pieces with carrots, onions and potatoes. Not a success. I was the only one who ate the celeriac bits and virtually every other piece (save for the three the others tasted) was left to sit forlornly in the pan. In this recipe, however, my family ate the celeriac happily, or at least without complaint. In a mash or puree with potatoes, the celeriac provides a welcome bite and a dash of extra flavor which comes in handy when you're limiting the fat in the recipe. I did this mash with chives, skim milk and just one tablespoon of butter for the whole bowl. To my taste, this is good stuff.

You can prepare this as a puree if you like, by running the potatoes and celeriac through a ricer, or you can simply mash the potatoes with a regular old potato masher. I usually opt for the latter as I like a thicker consistency to my mashed potatoes. This is a milder dish though, than a rustic smashed potato with olive oil, which I also love. This one looks a little more refined and would be great with the mustard crusted salmon I wrote about in my March 10, 2009 post. Though the dish does technically contain a vegetable along with the potatoes, I like to also serve a green vegetable alongside to provide some color contrast on the plate.


Comfort Mash

(serves 6)

2 pounds Yukon Gold potatoes, peeled and cut into 1 inch chunks

1 celeriac knob, preferable one closer to baseball sized than softball sized), peeled and cut into chunks smaller than the potatoes

1/2 - 1 cup skim milk

1 tablespoon olive oil

3 tablespoons chives, minced

1 tablespoon butter

salt and pepper to taste


1. Put the potato and celeriac into a large saucepan and cover with cool water by about 2 inches. Bring to a boil over high heat and then reduce the heat to medium - low and simmer for 20 to 25 minutes. Check a chunk of celeriac and a chunk of potato with a fork to see if soft.

2. Drain the vegetables in a colander and return them to the saucepan over medium heat. Stir the potato and celeriac around in the pot for a couple of minutes to dry them out. Turn the heat to low and either mash the potatoes in the pot or if you want a finer, more pureed consistency, put the vegetables through a ricer (and put the puree back in the pot). Add the skim milk, one half cup at a time, and the olive oil. Mix well. Add the second half cup of milk if it seems too dry. Add the chives and butter and mix again and then add salt and pepper, started with about a quarter teaspoon of salt and a few grinds of pepper, adding more to taste.