Spaghetti alla Carbonara Primavera

Many years ago I posted the recipe for Spaghetti alla Carbonara. At the time, I noted that it’s perfect for evenings when you’re feeling a little bit lazy…and your pantry is a little bit bare. It also fills the bill for those days when you are craving a little comfort food.

Sadly, it has also always felt like a bit of a guilty pleasure to me because it doesn’t have a vegetable anywhere in sight. You can of course make a salad to go with it. But that’s more work…and more dishes to wash. Today’s spring version of the dish takes care of the lack of vegetables…without adding any more work in the form of more dirty dishes. This Primavera incarnation of Pasta alla Carbonara is not only quick and satisfying…it is now a non-guilt inducing dinner (unless bacon makes you feel guilty…).

Even with the addition of vegetables, I still consider this a “bare pantry” kind of dinner. In the spring, if I don’t have asparagus on hand (and peas in the freezer…or one of those great little bag of Trader Joe’s fresh peas in the vegetable crisper), there is probably truly nothing in the house to eat. This time of year I buy asparagus every time I’m at the store or market (and I usually buy too much). I love asparagus.

I should probably point out that the fact that this dish is quick does not mean it is easy. It is in fact—at the end when you are finishing it—a bit tricky. I was reminded of this the other day when I made it for friends for lunch. I was in a hurry and didn’t pay as much attention as I should have at the very end when I was mixing in the eggs.

When you make Spaghetti alla Carbonara, you are essentially using the residual heat of the pot the pasta was cooked in…as well as the heat in the pasta…to “cook” the eggs. Yet, you don’t want visibly scrambled eggs. You want eggs that are cooked to the point of a stirred custard (like crème anglaise and similar), so that what you have is a lightly thickened, fluid sauce coating the noodles (and vegetables). This sauce is made up of egg, butter, bacon fat, Parmesan, and pasta water.

To get a sauce like this, you simply have to be paying attention. When you add the egg, make sure that you are stirring constantly. As you stir…and add each element (butter, cooked vegetables and bacon, Parmesan)…pay attention to the thickness and fluidity of the sauce. If you are having difficulty stirring (because the sauce is too tight), add a splash of pasta water. If the pasta seems like it is swimming in too much liquid (because the egg is not cooked…or you “splashed” in too much pasta water), set it over low heat and stir briskly until it begins to thicken.

The other day when I made it for lunch I didn’t add enough pasta water. The final dish seemed a bit sticky to me (noodles didn’t twirl smoothly, etc). But I share this mostly to let you know it was still delicious and I Hoovered it right up. So…if you don’t get it quite right, don’t worry. Enjoy it anyway. And then, make it again soon. So you can get in some more practice.

Spaghetti alla Carbonara Primavera

1/2 lb. Asparagus, trimmed (about 4 oz. trimmed weight)
2 strips bacon (about 2 oz.), thinly sliced crosswise
3 to 4 t. unsalted butter, divided
Freshly ground Black Pepper
Salt

1/4 c. fresh or frozen peas (thawed, if frozen)--optional
180 g./6 1/2 oz. spaghetti
2 eggs
1/2 c. (1 1/2 oz.) finely grated Parmesan

Slice the tips off of the asparagus at an angle. Split the tips in half lengthwise. Slice the stalks of the asparagus thinly on a long diagonal so that they are the same length as the halved tips. Set aside.

In a medium sauté pan set over medium-low heat, render the bacon. Stir and scrape to make sure it cooks evenly. When the bacon is browned and beginning to crisp and sizzle, add a tablespoon or so of water to cool the pan. Add a couple of teaspoons of the butter and a few grinds of black pepper and the asparagus. Season lightly with salt and toss to coat the asparagus in the butter and bacon fat. Cover the pan, reduce the heat to low and cook for a couple of minutes (until the pan is steamy and the asparagus is at an active, but gentle, sizzle). Uncover the pan and continue to cook, stirring occasionally until the asparagus is just tender—about 7 to 8 minutes. If adding peas, add them to the pan a couple of minutes before the asparagus is done.

When you add the asparagus to the pan of bacon, drop the spaghetti into a large pot of rapidly boiling, salted water. Stir to make sure the pasta isn't sticking. Cook until the pasta is al dente—about 7 to 8 minutes. (The pasta and asparagus should finish cooking at the same time—if the asparagus is done before the pasta, simply set it aside off of the heat.)

A couple of minutes before the pasta is ready, scoop out a half cup or so of the pasta water and set to the side. Crack the eggs into a small bowl and whisk until smooth.

When the pasta is al dente, drain it well. Return the pasta to the (now empty) hot pot and immediately add the asparagus/bacon mixture (scraping the pan well with a rubber spatula), the egg and any remaining butter. Stir briskly until the egg is thickened. If necessary, place the pot back over low heat as your stir. Stir in half of the Parmesan. Taste and correct the seasoning with salt & pepper. Adjust the consistency with some of the pasta water as needed—the spaghetti should be coated in a thin, fluid sauce of lightly thickened egg...it should not seem sticky or tight. Serve immediately with more Parmesan scattered over. Serves 2.

Note: Recipe is easily halved for one or doubled for four.

Printable Version

Classic Beef Stew

My first cooking class of 2021 was called Classic Comfort Food.  Even though the phrase "comfort food" is a bit of a cliché, I am unapologetic about the title.  I think it is useful in describing what we all seem to need at the moment.  It is meant to describe food that transports us to tables and moments past when simple, familiar food—prepared by someone who loved us—had the ability to momentarily hold our worries at bay.  I could use some of that right now.  Furthermore, for me, these foods also remind me of people that I love—and meals shared with them.  Since I’m eating all of my meals alone these days, I could use some of that too. 

The beef stew my mother made when I was growing up was delicious.  I was a picky eater…but I loved her stew.  The stew I make today is actually very similar to the one she made.  I have returned it to its French roots (with a bit more attention to technique…and added red wine, bacon and mushrooms), and I have omitted her final addition of peas.  But otherwise, the tender meat, carrots, and potatoes, suspended in a rustic “broth” –lightly thickened by virtue of the flour-dredged beef, the onions that have disintegrated from long cooking, and the starch released from the potatoes—is exactly like hers.  There are no tomatoes…or peppers…or other odd ingredients that I would have resented as a child—just a simple, straight forward, bowl of beefy goodness.  I always think of long ago family meals when I sit down to a bowl of that stew.

If you have never made beef stew, this one is a good place to start.  It gives back loads of flavor for minimal effort...and is a perfect activity for a homebound Saturday or Sunday. As with all braises, it will take the better part of the afternoon to make.   But since most of that time is in the oven with nothing required of you (other than the occasional peek under the lid), it counts as easy in my book.  If you aren’t familiar with the hows, whys and processes of a braise, check out my basics post from a few years ago before getting started.

One important thing to note: when you’re shopping, make sure you purchase beef chuck or boneless short rib meat—not the “stew meat” sold at most butcher counters.  Generic stew meat is usually a mystery conglomeration of beef trim that serves as a way for the butcher to make money from what would otherwise go in the trash.  To prepare a good stew, you need specific tough, sinewy cuts from around the joints and well-used muscles of the animal.  “Stew meat” may or may not contain these cuts. 

Furthermore, the pieces of meat you use for your stew need to be on the large side—certainly larger than the nubbins in the stew meat bin.  Small pieces of meat will disintegrate into the broth.  The large pieces will look more attractive and be easier to serve.  It is an easy thing to just cut up a chuck roast or some boneless beef short ribs yourself when you get home.  Cut the meat into 1 1/2- to 2-inch cubes.  These pieces will seem large…but they will shrink as they cook.  And you needn’t worry that the large pieces will be difficult to eat from a bowl:  when cooked properly, the meat is tender enough to be “cut” into bite-sized pieces with a spoon.   Another bonus in cutting the meat yourself:  you can be as fastidious as you like in removing the fat.  I generally only remove obvious, large knobs since most of the fat will dissolve and add flavor and moisture to the stew.  Any excess can be blotted off or skimmed away from the finished stew. 

I had hoped that this year would be less traumatic than last.  So far the year isn’t very promising.  One of the things I have control over is how I feed myself.  So, I continue to cook….every day.  I highly recommend it.  Occasionally preparing and eating a bowl of stew…or some other delicious and simple food that reminds me of people I wish I could be with and better days…gives me a measure of hope that things will one day be better again. 

Classic French-style Beef Stew

2 1/2 to 3 lbs. boneless beef short ribs or chuck, cut into 1 1/2-inch pieces
Salt & freshly ground pepper
4 oz. thick-sliced bacon, cut crosswise into 1/2-inch strips
1/2 c. all-purpose flour
2 onions, (about 1 lb.) cut in a 1/2-inch dice
2 large cloves garlic, minced
salt and pepper, to taste
3/4 c. dry red wine
3 to 4 c. beef or chicken stock—if using canned, use low-salt
2 or 3 sprigs thyme
1 lb. carrots, peeled and cut crosswise on a 1/2-inch short diagonal
1 lb. Yukon potatoes, peeled and cut into 1-inch chunks
8 oz. mushrooms, cleaned and halved (quartered, if large)
1/4 c. minced flat-leaf parsley

The day before you plan to prepare the stew, season the meat generously with salt.  I use 3/4 t. of kosher salt per pound of meat (so about 2 t.).  Wrap loosely and refrigerate overnight.

To prepare the stew: Render the bacon in a large stew pot or Dutch oven set over medium heat.  When the bacon is crisp, remove it along with the fat, reserving each separately. 

While the bacon cooks, dredge the beef in the flour, shaking off the excess.  

Return enough of the bacon fat to the pan to coat the bottom of the pan and increase the heat to medium-high.  Brown the beef on all sides—it may be necessary to do this in batches so the pan isn’t over-crowded.  

Add more bacon fat as necessary.  Remove all the meat to a platter 

and add more bacon fat or olive oil to the pan.  Add the onions.  Regulate the heat as necessary to sweat the onions just until softened and beginning to take on a golden color (about 5 to 10 minutes).  

Add the garlic and continue to cook for a minute or so.  Add the wine and bring to a boil, scraping the bottom of the pan to release the caramelized meat and vegetable juices.  Reduce the wine by at least half. 

Return the meat to the pan and add enough broth to cover the meat.  

Add the thyme.  Bring to a boil.  Cover and transfer to a preheated 300° oven.  Bake for 2 hours, checking occasionally to make sure the stew is cooking at a bare simmer.  It should not boil hard…but it should maintain an active simmer.  Reduce the oven temperature if necessary.

After 2 hours, remove the stew from the oven.  If there is a lot of grease pooling on the surface, spoon it off, or blot with a paper towel.  

Add the potatoes and carrots, season with salt and pepper, cover and return to the oven until the meat and vegetables are fork tender (about 45 minutes to an hour more).

While the stew finishes cooking, sauté the mushrooms in some of the bacon fat (or olive oil or butter) until nicely browned; Season with salt and pepper and set aside.

When the vegetables are tender, carefully stir in the mushrooms and bacon.  Taste and correct the seasoning.  Remove the thyme sprigs and serve, sprinkled with minced parsley.  Serves 6
 

(Recipe adapted from The Kansas City Star November 11, 1992)

Variation: 

• Classically, this French-style stew would be finished with glazed pearl onions in addition to the mushrooms and bacon.  To prepare the pearl onions, place 8 oz. of peeled pearl onions in a saucepan and cover them with water.  Add 1/2 T. of butter, a teaspoon of sugar and a pinch of salt and bring to a simmer.  Cover and cook until almost tender.  Uncover and increase the heat to high and boil until the liquid is reduced to a glaze; reduce the heat to medium and continue to cook until the glaze turns a golden brown, swirling the pan to coat the onions with the glaze.  Scatter the pearl onions over the stew with the mushrooms and bacon.  Or, for a more classic presentation, reheat the pearl onions, mushrooms and bacon separately and garnish each bowl of stew individually with them.
  
• For a more American-style beef stew, omit the red wine, mushrooms and bacon.  Brown the meat in vegetable oil.  Add a cup of frozen peas to the stew during the last five minutes of cooking.

Printable Version

Anne Rosenzweig’s “Best Brussels Sprouts”

In all the years I have been keeping a blog, I don’t think I have ever gone a full calendar month without at least one post.  Last year—for a lot of reasons—I didn’t post often, but I managed at least once a month.  This year I promised myself (which is as close as I ever get to a NY resolution) that I would post more often…and try to gradually return to a rate of about four a month.  Well…today is February 1…and my last post was on December 31.  All of January just slipped by.  I mention this only because I want to put it out there that in spite of how it might appear, I am not bringing For Love of the Table to an end.  At least not for now.  I will attempt to return to more frequent posting, but I don’t ever want to get to the place that I post something that I consider substandard just to get a post up.  I will continue to aim for a more frequent and regular schedule….but unfortunately may not succeed for a while.  The good news is that I’m still at it…just in a more sporadic way for the time being. 

As for today’s post, it is a bit unusual.  For the most part the recipes that I share are either my own or recipes from another chef or cook that I have tweaked in some way—great or small—to suit my tastes…or my pantry…or my idea of how it really should have been done in the first place.  I have never taken an inventory of recipes that I have shared without any changes, but there aren’t very many.  Today’s recipe is one of the few that I am posting with no changes.  It just didn’t need any….

In fact, the recipe’s creator—Chef Anne Rosenzweig—dubbed them “the best Brussels sprouts.”  I don’t know if I would go that far (there are a lot of really delicious ways to prepare Brussels sprouts!), but they are indeed very, very good. 

Before I share the specifics of what it was about the recipe that appealed to me, I wanted to mention that I was drawn to the recipe because of the source.  It is unfortunate that many of today’s cooks and chefs have never heard of Anne Rosenzweig.  She is an important figure in the recent history of American food and cooking.  When I was just starting out in restaurant work, women who had succeeded in that male dominated world were few and far between.  As I sit here typing and try to come up with a list of women chefs with national reputations who were role models for young women chefs and cooks during the late eighties and early nineties I can only think of a few:  Alice Waters, Nancy Silverton…and Anne Rosenzweig.  (I’m sure there were others…but a quick brainstorm only produces those three…).  Waters and Silverton are still active and well known.  But Rosenzweig—who was the chef at the helm of Arcadia in New York for many years—seems to have slipped out of view.  Last year when I ran across this Brussels sprouts recipe from Arcadia, I wondered about what had happened to her….so I Googled her.  I found a wonderful recent article detailing her career…and where she is now.  It is well worth reading.

In terms of the recipe, many things about it were appealing.  First and foremost, it includes two of my favorite food partners for Brussels sprouts—bacon…and carrots.  The bacon is an obvious and traditional companion.  All the brassicas (cabbage, kale, cauliflower, kohlrabi, broccoli…to name a few) are enhanced by the addition of salty and fatty cured pork products.  The carrots aren’t so obvious...but I know from experience that their natural sweetness make them a perfect foil for the slightly bitter Brussels sprout.  I have posted several recipes—a couple of pastas and a side dish—that feature these combinations if you would like to sample it in other ways. 

The other thing about this recipe that is particularly appealing is how easy it is to prepare.  None of the ingredients have to be pre-cooked (no toasting nuts…or blanching the Brussels sprouts…).   Simply render the bacon...then add the pine nuts and allow them to toast in the bacon fat while the bacon finishes crisping.  

Then add the garlic and carrots and cook briefly to release the fragrance of the garlic.  

Then add slender wedges of Brussels sprouts 

along with a splash of water, cover the pan and cook until the sprouts are tender—which typically takes about 5 minutes.  The whole process from start to finish only takes about 15 minutes…and only requires one pan. 

It would be enough if the dish were just delicious.  But it is attractive too.  The tiny cubes of carrot are elegant.  And because the sprouts aren’t subjected to the heat long enough to lose their fresh color, the dish is a lovely green.  To me this is a lot of return for a small amount of effort.  (And if you are put off by the tiny dice required for the carrots

—it has to be this way so they will cook quickly—think of it as a wonderful opportunity to practice your knife skills!)

These sprouts of course make a great side dish, but they are not limited to that.  Recently I made them for my lunch and topped them with a poached egg (a fried egg would work too). And even though this did require another pan, I have to say it was worth it.  I highly recommend it.

Brussels Sprouts with Bacon, Pine Nuts & Carrots

3 slices bacon, cut cross-wise in 1/4-inch strips

Olive oil—as needed

1/4 c. pine nuts

2 to 3 cloves garlic, minced (2 teaspoons)

1/2 c. very finely diced carrot (you will need 4 oz. whole carrots)

1 1/4 lb. Brussels Sprouts (4 cups), trimmed, halved and each half cut into quarters

Water

Salt & freshly ground pepper

2 T. minced flat leaf parsley

Render the bacon in a large sauté pan set over moderately low heat.  When the fat is rendered, increase the heat to medium and add the pine nuts.  Cook, stirring constantly until the bacon is crisp and the pine nuts are golden brown in spots—this will only take a minute or so.  Watch carefully to avoid burning the bacon and pine nuts.  If the bacon was very lean, you may need to add a bit of olive oil. 

When the bacon is crisp and the pine nuts are golden, add the garlic and carrots and cook (stirring constantly) until the garlic releases its fragrance (less than a minute).  Add the sprouts, along with a good pinch of salt, and toss to coat in the fat.  Add a 3 or 4 tablespoons of water.  Cover and cook, shaking the pan occasionally, until the sprouts are cooked to your liking.  Depending on the size and age of the sprouts, they will take anywhere from 2 to 7 minutes.  Check occasionally to make sure they haven’t boiled dry.  If necessary, add more water (but just enough to create some steam).  When the sprouts are tender, uncover and continue to cook until any remaining water has evaporated.  Fold in the parsley.  Taste and correct the seasoning with salt (if necessary) and pepper.  If you like, add a drizzle of olive oil (if the bacon was very fatty, this won’t be necessary).   Serve warm.  Serves 3 to 4

Note:  You can make this recipe in just about any quantity (just a portion…or multiple…of the original).  Simply choose a pan that will hold all of the Brussels sprouts so they are not piled too deeply in the pan. 

(Recipe from A Well-Seasoned Appetite, by Molly O’Neill.  The original dish was served at Arcadia in Manhattan for many years.)

 

Printable Version

French Lentil Soup...and the power of taste memory...

Someone recently pointed out that I didn’t have any recipes on my blog that use lentils. This had surprised them. I guess it surprised me too. I have nothing against lentils. I love them when someone serves them to me. But I didn’t grow up eating them…and the truth is I never got into the habit of cooking with them. For some reason I just don’t think of them. Since I enjoy them anytime I do eat them, I will need to make an effort to add them to my rotation. 

There is one recipe that I make occasionally that uses French lentils (Lentils du Puy—prized for their firmer texture and peppery, mineral-y flavor). It is a classic French dish from The Balthazar Cookbook by Keith McNally, Riad Nasr & Lee Hanson): Mustard Crusted Salmon with Lentils. I love this dish. Like so many of the recipes I love, it is a study in deceptive simplicity. If you have good ingredients…and use good technique…the result is greater than the sum of its parts. 

I like this recipe so much that when I decided I wanted to make a lentil soup during our recent early dip into the deep freeze, I used their flavorings in that recipe as my inspiration. In the end, I’m sure it’s not too different from many French lentil soup recipes…bacon, the mirepoix triad of carrot, celery and onion, lots of garlic, fresh thyme and tomatoes. It was warming…hearty, yet a bit refined…and delicious. 

It is great with just a sprinkling of parsley…and maybe a drizzle of olive oil.  But I discovered that some crumbled goat cheese was a nice garnish too—definitely worth adding if you happen to have some on hand. 

There were no tomatoes in the Balthazar recipe from which I took most of my inspiration. I had had a delicious soup recently at the table of a friend that included lentils and tomatoes, so that may have been what put the thought of the tomatoes in mind. There is also the fact that tomatoes are often paired with lentils.  And I'm sure that all of this played a part in my final recipe.  But there is another possibility. 

As I was enjoying my soup I had a flash of a food memory from my childhood: the very first (and possibly only) time I had lentils. My entire family had been invited to dinner at the home of one of my father’s business colleagues. My siblings and I had never been included in an invitation like this before, so my memory of it is fairly clear.  Our hostess served a simple meal of lentil stew, crusty bread and a fruit salad. I remember the stew because it was totally outside of my normal eating habits. Being the picky child that I was, if my mother had served it, I would have begrudgingly limited myself to the one bite we were required to take of something we thought we didn’t like. But since we were out, I was on my best behavior.  And I remember truly enjoying that lentil stew…probably asked my mother to get the recipe (although, I don’t remember her ever making it). I’m certain it was just a simple brown lentil soup…but I remember it included the tang of tomatoes. So now that I think about it, I can’t rule out the possibility that my addition of the tomatoes to my Balthazar inspired soup was a subliminal nod to that long ago first taste. 

French Lentil Soup

3 or 4 slices thick bacon (100g), diced small (this is most easily done if the bacon is frozen) 

3 T. unsalted butter 

1 large or 2 medium onions (12 oz.), diced small (2 c.) 

2 medium carrots (1/3 lb), peeled and diced small (1 c.) 

2 celery stalks (4 oz), trimmed and diced small (3/4 c.) 

3 to 4 cloves garlic, minced 

2 or 3 well-branched sprigs of thyme 

Salt & freshly ground pepper 

1 lb. peeled & chopped tomatoes or a 14.5 oz. can diced tomatoes (see notes) 

1 1/4 c. (250g) French green lentils (Le Puy lentils—see notes), rinsed and drained 

1 quart chicken stock or low-salt broth 

Minced flat leaf parsley, optional 

Olive oil for drizzling, optional 

Goat cheese crumbles, optional 

Place the bacon in a large soup pot set over medium heat. When some of the fat has rendered from the bacon, after about 5 minutes, 

add the butter. When the butter has melted, add the onion, carrot, celery, garlic and thyme along with a good pinch of salt. 

Cover and sweat over low heat until the vegetables are just tender—about 10 to 15 minutes.

Add the tomatoes, lentils and stock and bring to a simmer. 

Partially cover the pan and cook, maintaining a gentle simmer until the lentils are tender and cooked to your liking—anywhere from 30 to 45 minutes.

Transfer 1 1/2 to 2 cups of the soup (mostly solids) to a blender (or the cup of an immersion blender). Purée until smooth and return to the soup. If the soup is too thick add water or stock in small increments to achieve a texture and thickness that you like. Taste and correct the seasoning with salt and freshly ground pepper. Serve hot with a sprinkle of parsley and drizzle of olive oil, if you like. 

Makes about 1 3/4 quarts of soup, serving 5 to 6.

Note:

• I used tomatoes that I froze last summer. If you have never frozen whole summer tomatoes to use during the winter months you should give it a try. I describe the process in this post.
• Any green French lentil will work in this recipe. I use the Le Puy lentils because this is what I keep on hand for the salmon dish. These will hold their texture better and take a bit longer to cook than other green French lentils, so if you don’t use lentils labeled “Le Puy” then begin checking on the tenderness of the lentils after about 20 minutes.

Printable Version

Springtime “Salade Lyonnaise”

If you like salad…and poached eggs…you have probably sampled a classic Salade Lyonnaise at least once.  For those who might never have had one (and who like the sound of salad with a poached egg), Salade Lyonnaise (sometimes called a Salade Frisée aux Lardons) is a delicious salad comprised of bitter greens (typically dandelion or frisée), chewy chunks of bacon (lardons), and freshly fried garlicky croutons—all tossed with a sharp and tangy vinaigrette (heavy on the shallots and mustard)…and topped with a drippy-yolked poached egg. 

As you dive in, the liquid yolk mingles with the vinaigrette, coating everything with rich, tangy deliciousness.  It is bacon, eggs and toast turned into a salad.  I think it is one of the best salads ever conceived.

I have no idea when I started preparing a springtime riff on this amazing concoction, but I do know the reason:  In the spring my refrigerator always has a big “vase” of asparagus

(if you aren’t storing your asparagus upright, in a container of water, you should be…it lasts much longer this way)…and I love asparagus with eggs (and bacon).  It just seemed to make sense to add some blanched asparagus spears to my springtime bowl of greens, bacon and egg.

Somewhere along the line I started adding toasted walnuts to the salad instead of croutons.  To be honest this was probably a move of convenience.  I tend to eat this salad on evenings when I’m tired.  Toasting and crumbling a few walnuts is easier than cutting and frying croutons…  at least it is to me.  In any case, I love walnuts with asparagus, so it is a switch that pleases my palate.  Although, if frying croutons (you can use the pan in which you fried the bacon) doesn’t seem like extra work to you, then you should do it.  The salad is, I think, delicious either way.

It was my Instagram feed that made me realize that I needed to post the recipe for this salad on my blog.  (I mentioned it in an early blog post, but didn’t include a recipe.)  As I posted the picture of my salad last week on Instagram I had a niggling feeling that I had posted a similar image not too long ago.  As I scrolled back, I saw that a few weeks earlier, I had indeed posted the same salad.  



In the first picture I had included a few roasted potatoes (I must have been especially hungry on that particular night.  The potatoes are a great way to increase the substance of this salad for a larger appetite.)—but it was essentially the same salad.  As I brushed off the thought that my eating habits were a bit boring, it occurred to me that the absence of this salad on my blog was a glaring omission. 

I don’t think that you really need a recipe for this salad—just the idea.  I am of course giving the recipe as I tend to make it, but I encourage you to make it your own.  To help you get started, here are a few pointers:  As I mentioned above, the salad should have a sharp and tangy vinaigrette.  You can make mine…or any classic shallot and Dijon heavy French-style vinaigrette.  As far as the greens go, I rarely have frisée or dandelion on hand.  I almost always have arugula though.  This adds the requisite bitterness to the salad, so I almost always include that.  Otherwise, any perky and beautiful salad green that you find at your farmer’s market should be just fine.  



(Make sure it has been washed, spun dry and chilled for a while so that it will be nice and crisp.)  If you can get 1/2-inch thick slices of bacon from the meat counter at your grocery store—and are thinking ahead (I never am)—by all means do so.  Cut them crosswise in half inch slices and you will have true lardons. Otherwise, just use thick or extra thick sliced bacon and cook so it still has a bit of chew.  And of course...make sure you use best quality, farm fresh eggs (from a local grower)—those rich, golden yolks make all the difference.  Finally, make this salad while local asparagus is abundant and delicious. 

Springtime “Salade Lyonnaise” with Asparagus & Walnuts

For one person (multiply as needed):

1 1/2 to 2 oz. (1 slice thick or extra thick bacon), cut crosswise in 1/2- to 1-inch pieces

2 to 4 oz. (trimmed weight) asparagus, cut into 2- to 3-inch lengths on a short diagonal

1/4 c. (about 1 oz.) walnuts

2 handfuls (about 2 to 2 1/2 oz.) lettuce (try to include some crisper greens as well as something a bit bitter)

1 large egg, at room temperature

Vinaigrette, to taste (below)

Place the bacon in a non-stick pan set over moderate to medium-low heat.  Cook, tossing/stirring occasionally until the fat is mostly rendered and the bacon is golden.  It should be chewy, not crisp.  Transfer to paper towels to drain and set the pan aside.

While the bacon cooks, toast the walnuts in a 350° oven until fragrant and golden—about 5 minutes.  Set aside to cool.  When cool enough to handle, break into medium pieces.  If you like, drizzle with a small amount of olive oil and season with salt.  Blanch the asparagus until just tender in a pot of boiling salted water (about 2 to 5 minutes).  Lift out and spread on towels to cool.

When the bacon, asparagus and walnuts are ready, poach the egg: add a tablespoon of vinegar to a quart of simmering water (in a heavy bottomed sauce pan).  Crack the egg into a ramekin and gently tip it into the water.  Don’t let the water boil or even really simmer.  If you have an instant read thermometer, the temperature of the water should be about 200°.  Let the egg stay in the water until the yolk is just beginning to thicken.  This should take about four minutes.  Using a slotted spoon, lift the egg out of its poaching bath and give it a gentle poke with your finger. It should be softly bouncy...but not firm…I think 4 minutes is about perfect.  (If you have never poached an egg, check out my “how to”/basics post.)

While the egg is poaching, place the greens in a bowl and season with salt & pepper.  Just before the egg is done, dress everything….drizzling with just enough of the vinaigrette to coat and tossing well with your hands.  You may dress the asparagus, walnuts and bacon separately…or add them to the bowl with the lettuce and toss everything together. If you like, you may drizzle in some of the bacon fat, too.  Mound everything on a plate, leaving a little divot in the center to hold the egg. 

When the egg is done to your liking, use a slotted spoon to lift it out of the poaching liquid.  I like to give the egg a gentle blot with a paper towel, but it isn’t strictly necessary.  Place the egg on the salad, season it with salt and pepper and drizzle a bit more vinaigrette, or bacon fat (or both) over the whole salad.  Serve right away.

Additions:

• Add 3 or 4 oz. of roasted new or fingerling potatoes to the salad.
• Since I don’t add croutons to this version of the salad, I like to serve it with buttered toast. Choose a nice, hearty, artisanal bread for your toast.

Vinaigrette:

2 T. red wine vinegar

1 T. sherry vinegar

3 to 4 T. minced shallot

2 t. Dijon mustard

1/2 to 3/4 t. Kosher salt

1/2 c. olive oil

Place the vinegars and shallots in a small bowl (or in the cup of an immersion blender if you would like a smooth, well-emulsified vinaigrette).  Let sit for 5 minutes or so to give the shallots a chance to soften.  Add the Dijon and a half teaspoon of kosher salt.  Whisk (or blend) until the Dijon is completely incorporated.  Add the oil in a thin stream while whisking (blending) constantly.  Taste and correct the seasoning with salt.  

If you made the vinaigrette with the blender, it will remain emulsified.  If you used a whisk, it will need re-whisking prior to use.  The dressing keeps well for several days in the fridge.  If it solidifies (transfer to a jar with a tight fitting lid), soften by placing the jar in a bowl of warm water.  Re-whisk before using.  

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