Kale Salad…it’s all about the timing

For the past twenty years my work as a private chef has allowed me the luxury of cooking food and serving it right away (as opposed to catering work where one prepares food for transport and reheat).  But my new curbside pickup dinners have put me in the position of cooking food more like a caterer.  This food has to withstand packaging, transport, and reheating/finishing out of my sight.  I find this (particularly the “out of my sight” part) a bit stressful…but in the grand scheme of stressors inherent in our pandemic world, this is minor. For me, many of the pitfalls of this kind of cooking can be avoided—or at least minimized—with careful menu planning.

As I have navigated designing menus for these dinners, one of the difficulties has been salads.  I love salad—of all kinds.  Anytime I prepare a multi course meal I want to include salad.  Not only do they add something fresh and raw, they are a great source of textural and flavor counterpoint to the richer foods usually included in the entrée and/or the dessert.  Unfortunately, once lettuces have been dressed they have to be eaten straight away…making a dressed lettuce-based salad inappropriate for inclusion in a meal destined to be consumed at a later time.  By the time the dressed salad gets to its destination it will have wilted from the weight and acidity of the vinaigrette.

The obvious solution to this problem is to package the salad components and the dressing separately.  This is a reasonable way to present the salad…and I have done it (and will do it again)…but this solution has its pitfalls too.  Salads are best when the lettuces and additions are tossed together (by hand) in a bowl so that everything will be lightly and evenly coated with just the right amount of vinaigrette.  A well dressed salad is typically not perfectly dressed after the first “toss.”  When I dress a salad, I add salt and pepper, drizzle in some vinaigrette, toss, and then taste.  At this point the salad will probably require some more attention:  Maybe more salt…or a tad more dressing…or a squeeze of lemon even.  I always add less dressing than I think I need at the first pass because an overdressed salad is soggy—and once added you can’t take it away.  (You can always add more.)  Even with a small instruction sheet that is sent home with the curbside dinners, I have no way of knowing if this is how people are dressing their salads.  I wonder if the salad ingredients are simply turned onto a plate with the entire contents of the vinaigrette container poured over.  I’m sure—because the ingredients are delicious—that when eaten this way that the salads are fine.  But they might not be as good as they could be.  And I want to serve food that is more than “fine.”  I want it to be delicious!

So far the best solution I have discovered to my salad dilemma (besides choosing an appetizer other than a salad…) is to choose greens that taste even better after the dressing has had time to sit on them and soften them a bit.  The most obvious green in this category has been green cabbage…in coleslaw. 

Growing up I didn’t think of coleslaw as salad.  I thought of it as some bizarre inedible found at almost every potluck gathering or as the obligatory accompaniment to otherwise delicious barbecue.  I don’t know when it dawned on me that it could actually be a delicious salad (Coleslaw is from the Dutch Koolsla, which translates as “cabbage salad”)…but I have probably written about this before…and have actually posted a couple of tasty recipes. I think the coleslaw I included in one of my summer dinners went over very well.  And as we head into the winter—when cabbage comes into its own—I will probably include coleslaw of some kind again.

But the salad green that has been the very best for my curbside pickup dinners has been kale.  This may cause some eye rolls or heavy sighs from people who are tired of kale.  In recent years kale has enjoyed immense popularity…and has also suffered a fall from favor that is surely a backlash due to overexposure.  And this is a shame.  I won’t get into all of the whys of kale's rise and fall here—mostly because I don’t really understand how a food suddenly become an “it” food in the first place.  I will only say that one of the main reasons that overexposed foods fall out of favor is misuse and improper preparation.  Kale has definitely suffered from both of these.  When served cooked, it is frequently undercooked (not all vegetables should be crunchy or al dente!)…and when served as a salad, often—believe it or not—it isn't dressed far enough in advance.

Kale is after all cabbage.  The Italian name for Tuscan Kale (Cavolo Nero) means black cabbage.  So it makes sense that this substantial and impervious green would taste best in a salad after it has had time to absorb the flavor…and soften from the acidity…of the dressing.  Kale salads stand up so well to the dressing that they can even be eaten as a leftover the next day.  (If you have ever tried to eat leftover dressed salad made with baby lettuce or arugula…or just about any other salad green…before, you probably don’t believe this.)  In fact, kale salads are often better the next day (depending on what else is in the salad).

As far as my dinners were concerned, I had forgotten about kale salads because I don’t tend to eat them in the warmer months (although I do make a delicious warm weather entrée-sized kale salad that involves roasted corn and Italian sausage…).  It was only when I began planning a curbside menu for the first of the cooler weather…and I saw kale back at the farmers market…that I thought about the advantages of using it for a curbside dinner.

The salad I made for the most recent dinner was a combination of the one found on the blog Smitten Kitchen…and the first kale salad I ever tasted (made by my chef friend Nancy).  I borrowed the golden raisins, walnuts, salty pecorino and garlicky toasted breadcrumbs from Smitten Kitchen…and took some crunchy, shaved celery and a fantastic Honey-Dijon vinaigrette from Nancy.  The resulting salad was really, really good:  a flavor party of contrasting tastes and textures.   After the curbside dinner I had leftovers of all the salad ingredients.  So I was able to enjoy this salad for lunch and dinner several days running (with soup…grilled cheese…quesadilla…etc.).  I never got tired of it.

One of the morals of the story here is that if you think you don’t like kale salads, it may be because you have always eaten them too soon after they have been dressed.  I suspect that if you prepared a kale salad for yourself …and then waited a half hour or so to eat it…that you would find that you really liked it.  This particular kale salad would be a great one to use as your first test case.  

  Autumn Kale Salad

100 g. (scant cup) walnuts
62 g. (mounded 1/3 cup) golden raisins
4 t. each white wine vinegar and water
1/4 c. coarse fresh bread crumbs
2 t. olive oil
1 very small clove of garlic
170 g. prepared Tuscan kale (see note)
100 g. (1 c.) thinly sliced celery
2 oz. pecorino, grated medium fine (it should have some texture)
1/2 recipe Honey-Dijon vinaigrette (below)

Spread the walnuts on a small baking sheet and place in a 350° oven and toast until they begin to take on a golden color and are fragrant—about 5 to 7 minutes.  Remove from the oven and set aside to cool (if you like, toss with a small drizzle of olive oil and a pinch of salt).  When the nuts are cool enough to handle, crumble coarsely by hand (or chop, if you prefer—I like the texture of hand crumbled walnuts).  Set aside. 

Place the raisins in a small saucepan with the vinegar and water.  Bring to a simmer.  Simmer gently for five minutes or so (until plump and soft—the liquid may or may not be fully absorbed…this is ok).  Set the raisins aside (don’t drain).

Place the breadcrumbs and olive oil in a small non-stick sauté pan over moderate heat.  Let the crumbs sizzle, stirring regularly with a heatproof spatula, until they are golden in color.  Remove from the heat and use a microplaner to grate the garlic over the crumbs.  Give them one last stir.  Transfer the crumbs to a plate.  Set aside.

Dress the salad:  Place the kale in a large bowl along with the walnuts, raisins (with liquid), celery and pecorino.  Season with freshly ground pepper.  Drizzle most of the vinaigrette over and toss.  Use your hands to toss the greens, massaging/rubbing the vinaigrette into the kale a bit as you toss.

Taste and correct the seasoning with salt and pepper.  Let the salad sit for at least 10 minutes before serving.  Even better—if time allows, cover the salad, and let it sit in the fridge for 30 minutes to an hour.  When ready to serve, toss again, adding more dressing if necessary.  Mound on individual plates or in a serving bowl and scatter the toasted crumbs over all.

Serves 4 generously.

Note:

• It would be nice if bunches of kale always weighed the same. Unfortunately this is not the case. I have purchased bunches that weighed barely four ounces…and some that were 2/3 of a pound or more. A third to a half pound seems to be mostly the norm. You will need at least a half pound untrimmed kale to get the 6 oz. (170 g) of trimmed greens needed for this salad. It is best to purchase two bunches (unless they are very large).
• To prepare the kale, strip out the center rib. Stack the leaves and cut cross-wise in 1/2-inch ribbons. Wash well (in several changes of water) and spin dry. If not using right away, store in an airtight container with a damp paper towel.

(Adapted from Smitten Kitchen)

Honey-Dijon Vinaigrette

1 T. honey
2 t. Dijon mustard
2 T. Sherry vinegar
1 t. fresh lemon juice
kosher salt and freshly ground black pepper
1/2 c. olive oil

In a small bowl whisk together the honey, Dijon, Sherry vinegar, lemon juice and salt and pepper to taste. Whisk until the salt dissolves, then slowly whisk in the olive oil until you have a nice creamy emulsion. Taste & correct the seasoning.

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Chopped Broccoli Salad

In my last post I mentioned how much I like chopped broccoli salads.  I realized when I published the post that I didn’t have any examples of that kind of salad on my blog.  There is a chopped raw cauliflower salad...a grated carrot salad…and a couple of slaws…but nothing that features broccoli.  I thought I would fix that omission today.

The salad I’m sharing was inspired by a rather old-fashioned preparation that I ran across on The Modern Proper.  Their salad featured raw broccoli florets tossed with loads of bacon, sunflower seeds and raisins…all doused in a tangy mayonnaise based dressing.  The first time I made it I followed the recipe exactly except for one thing.  As mentioned in my previous post, the task of chomping through large florets of raw broccoli is something I prefer to leave to rabbits…or horses….   Cutting medium florets into rough thin slices, and the stems into a similarly rough julienne, creates a vegetable that is much easier for humans to chew…and more importantly gives a much better ratio of dressing to broccoli with each bite. 

I was attracted to the salad because it has a retro feel that places it in the realm of what is often meant by the phrase “comfort food.”  I wrote a post several years ago about a kale salad that featured the flavors of my favorite salad bar concoction from my college days: greens with blue cheese dressing, sunflower seeds, and raisins.  If you swap out the kale for broccoli…and the blue cheese for bacon…you basically have that same set of flavors that seems to hit all my preferred buttons. 

And I liked the salad.  But it struck me as a bit rich.  I shelved it, thinking I might make it occasionally, but not that often.  Then recently when I was rummaging through my fridge for something to turn into a salad to go with my dinner I ran across some broccoli.  For some reason I thought of that particular broccoli salad.  The rest of my dinner was almost ready so I didn’t want to take the time to cook bacon.  It seemed to me the salad would be good without the bacon, so I tried it.  And I loved it.  It was the bacon that had made it seem too rich for my taste that first time. And since the “salty” component (required, I think, to “wake up” brassicas) is amply covered by the salty roasted sunflower seeds and mayonnaise, the bacon really isn’t necessary.

I should apologize for two posts in a row that feature the same vegetable.  But the reality of cooking during a pandemic appears to be a lot of repetition.  This can of course be a good way to explore ways to use familiar ingredients in unfamiliar ways.  So if you eat a lot of broccoli…but have never tried it raw, chopped and tossed with a tasty dressing, you should definitely give this salad a try. 

Chopped Broccoli Salad with Sunflower Seeds & Golden Raisins

Dressing:

3/4 c. (5 1/2 oz/155 g.) mayonnaise

4 t. (1 oz.) honey

2 T. white balsamic or apple cider vinegar (can add another teaspoon if you like an extra tangy dressing)

1/2 t. kosher salt

Pinch of cayenne, optional

Salad:

1/4 c. finely minced shallot or white of spring onion

1 lb. trimmed broccoli crowns

1/2 to 2/3 c. roasted and salted sunflower seeds (I love sunflower seeds, so I use 2/3 c.)

1/2 c. golden raisins, roughly chopped (or not—your preference)

Place the dressing ingredients in a bowl and whisk to combine.  Taste and correct the balance and seasoning.  I like my dressing pretty tangy, so I usually add more vinegar…maybe 1/2 to 1 teaspoon.  Set aside.

Rinse the shallot (or onions) under cold running water or soak in a small bowl of ice water for a few minutes.  Drain well.

Trim the broccoli florets away from the stems.  Slice the florets thinly.  You will have little bits and larger pieces.  This is the goal.  Cut the stems into 1- to 1 1/2-inch lengths.  Slice the lengths thinly (rough 1/8^th inch thick).  Cut the slices into sticks (a julienne).  Place the chopped broccoli in a large bowl.  Add the shallot, sunflower seeds, and raisins.  Pour the dressing over and toss until the broccoli is well-coated with the dressing.  Taste and correct the seasoning with salt and vinegar. 

The salad can be served right away, but I like it best if it is chilled at least a half hour.  It is still delicious the next day, too.

Serves four to six as a side dish. 

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Traditional Hot Cross Buns

I am quite late with this particular post.  Not only is Good Friday (the day when tradition dictates that Hot Cross Buns appear) past, but Easter has passed as well.  Such is my life at the moment.  Posting anything at all is a bit of a stretch.  Posting something in a timely manner probably isn’t going to happen.  But since Good Friday and Easter will come around next year—and I will be making these every year from now on (they’re that good!)—I’m going to go ahead and post the recipe now.

As a lover of English foods in general, for many years I was a bit mystified by the popularity of the Hot Cross Bun.   I have made them on more than one occasion.  And I’m sure that I probably had a commercial version when I was living in London.  But I don’t ever remember having one (mine, or otherwise) that impressed me too much.  I knew this could only be because I hadn’t been to the right place…or found the right recipe.

Since I wanted to love them, (What’s not to love about the idea of a soft, slightly sweet, slightly spicy, roll—filled with dried and candied fruit?) last year, as the Lenten season drew to a close, I finally decided to do some serious research and try them again.  I turned first to the recipes and writings of Darina Allen (of the Ballymaloe House & Cookery School in Ireland).  I can think of no better living resource for the traditional foods of the British Isles.  Then, while poking around on line, I ran across a recipe (also from Ireland) that looked promising from a place called the Firehouse Bakery. 

The two recipes are not dissimilar, but I liked the method that Patrick Ryan (of Firehouse) used for incorporating the butter.  Somewhat like a brioche, the butter isn’t added until the gluten begins to develop in the kneaded dough (after 5 minutes or so).  This method takes a bit longer—and requires a stand mixer—but ultimately allows for better gluten development (fat is a gluten inhibitor).  I used this method for the pumpkin dinner rolls I posted a few years ago, and I love the light and tender results.   There is a great vimeo available on line of Ryan making his rolls.  It is very instructive. 

In the end my recipe was basically a combination of these two.  My greatest change was to switch to all-purpose flour from the strong/bread flour called for in their recipes.  I may be wrong, but my suspicion is that American all-purpose flour has a protein content that is fairly close to (although not quite as high as) British “strong” flour.  It is always difficult to translate a recipe from one country to another because of the differences in the ingredients.  I thought erring on the side of a lower protein flour (with the all-purpose) would be better than using one that had more protein (American bread flour).  The latter might have made the rolls too hard.  A Hot Cross Bun is supposed to be soft.     

I did look at other British recipes…and a few American ones…mostly to get a feel for the range of butter and sugar and quantity of spice and dried fruits.   There was a fair amount of variation among recipes in this regard.  In the end, I went on the high side with butter, sugar and dried/candied fruit.  These are the things that make them special for the holidays, in my opinion.  My rolls are not too sweet or too rich—but they are definitely not plain.   I can see how they would seem quite decadent—and a welcome treat on Good Friday—after the traditional Lenten fast from dairy-rich foods.

You will find that most American versions of these buns are topped with a piped cross of powdered sugar frosting after they have been baked.  I have never seen a British recipe finished this way.  Traditionally the buns are topped with a couple of strips of crossed pâte brisée/pie dough…or a piped “liquid cross”…prior to baking.  Some recipes slash each proofed roll in a cross (similar to Soda Bread)—but this doesn’t seem to me to be the norm.  I ended up using the Firehouse bakery “liquid cross” …mostly because I was curious about it.  It was like nothing I had ever worked with.  I’m so glad I tried it.  It is very easy to make.  And since it is baked on, it can’t be smeared or smudged off.  It also looks pleasingly neat and precise.

And for Americans who are used to using the term “bun” to refer to something that you fill with a hamburger or a hot dog, according to Elizabeth David (English Bread & Yeast Cookery…among others), in the British Isles a “bun” is a ‘small, soft, plump, sweet, fermented (yeasted) cake.”  There are of course loads of traditional English breads that fall into this category: Chelsea Buns, Currant Buns, Spice Buns…and Hot Cross Buns…to name a few.  So even though Easter is past for the year, you could still make these delicious little rolls.  Just leave the liquid cross off and you’ll have a Spice Bun.  Or make them with all currants and you’ll have a Currant Bun.   Either would be delicious with an afternoon cup of coffee or tea.  Or do as I do and enjoy them with your breakfast (they freeze beautifully).  And then, when Easter rolls around again next year, the making of the buns will be easy and you can focus on learning how to make and pipe the cross. 

 

 

Hot Cross Buns

454 g. (4 c.) all-purpose flour  

75 g. (6 T.) sugar

1 t. salt

1 t. cinnamon

1/4 t. ground cloves

1/4 t. nutmeg

1/2 t. allspice

2 T. warm water

7 g. (2 1/4 t.) instant or active dry yeast

1 large egg, beaten

240 g. (1 c.) whole milk, tepid

Zest of one orange

85 g. (6 T.) unsalted butter—cool but malleable, cut into 6 chunks

170 g. (1 c.) mixed dried and candied fruits (see notes)

1 egg beaten with 1 t. of water and a pinch of salt for egg wash

50 g. (1/2 c.) cake flour

50 g. (1/2 c. less 1 T.) all-purpose flour

40 g. (1/3 c.) powdered sugar

60 to 75 g. (4 to 5 T.) whole milk

28 g. (2 T.) water

25 g. (2 T.) sugar

Place the flour, sugar, salt and spices in a medium bowl and whisk to combine.  Set aside.

Place the water in the bowl of a stand mixer.  Sprinkle the yeast over the water.  If using active dry yeast, let it sit for a minute or two to soften.  Add the egg, milk, orange zest, and dry ingredients.  Using the dough hook mix on low speed (no. 2 or 3) until the ingredients are homogenous (a minute or two).  Increase the speed to medium (no. 4) and mix until the dough is just beginning to pull away from the sides—about 5 to 7 minutes.

Add the butter while the mixer is still running and continue to mix for a minute or two, stopping to scrape down the sides a couple of times, until the butter is absorbed.  Continue to knead until the dough is no longer sticking to the sides of the bowl and is smooth, velvety and elastic—about 6 to 8 minutes.  

(The first time you make this, waiting for the dough to come together will be an act of faith.  But eventually—and suddenly—it will.  If your butter is warm...or very soft...it will take longer.  Resist the temptation to add more flour.  This is a soft sticky dough.)  Add the dried fruits and continue to mix until distributed throughout the dough.

Lightly butter a large bowl.  Butter your hands.  If the fruit is not well distributed, scrape the dough out of the mixing bowl and onto a lightly floured surface and use a bench scraper to help mix and fold until the fruit is spread uniformly throughout the dough.  Using your (buttered hands) form the dough into a ball by stretching the surface around to the bottom four or five times, rotating the ball of dough after each stretch.  

Place the ball in the buttered bowl and cover the bowl with plastic wrap.  Let the dough rise at a warm room temperature until doubled in bulk—about two hours.  

(At this point you may form the rolls—or chill the dough over night and form the rolls in the morning.  If chilling over night, deflate the dough before covering the bowl with plastic wrap and placing in the refrigerator.)

Scrape the dough out onto the counter and deflate.  Cut dough into 16 equal portions (about 70 g. each).  Round each piece into a smooth ball.  (The dough will be only slightly sticky—and should be very manageable.  You should only need a whisper of flour…if any at all.) 

Place the formed rolls on a parchment-lined baking sheet, spreading them out evenly so that they (hopefully) won’t touch when they bake.  

Cover loosely with sprayed plastic wrap.  Let rise until doubled in size—about 1 to 1 1/2 hours. 

When the rolls are almost fully risen, mix the cake flour, powdered sugar and 4 T. of the milk.  You should have a stiff mixture.  Add a little more milk only if it is too stiff to pipe.  Scrape into a piping bag fitted with a scant 3/16-inch tip.  Carefully brush the rolls with egg wash. 

Pipe crosses on the buns.  

Bake in a preheated 375° oven until golden brown and cooked through—about 15 to 20 minutes.

While the rolls bake, bring the water and sugar to a boil.  When the buns are done, transfer to a wire rack and brush immediately with the simple syrup.  Serve warm…or room temperature…with butter.  Makes 16 large buns.

Notes:

• If you have any candied orange peel left from the Christmas holidays, use some in these buns. I like a mix of 1/4 cup each diced candied orange peel, dried currants, golden raisins and dried cranberries.
• Recipe adapted from the Firehouse Bakery and Darina Allen.
• I have made the “liquid cross” with 100 percent all purpose flour and with half cake, half all purpose. It is much better when made with half cake flour—less stretchy and easier to pipe. Also, the all all-purpose version becomes a bit hard/crisp when baked—giving it a discernibly different texture from the bun.

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Early Autumn Medley of Roasted Eggplant & Peppers with Chickpeas and Freekeh

Although eggplant and bell peppers are technically summer vegetables, they continue to appear on my table all through the early weeks of fall.  I may even like them better in the fall.  During the late summer I am so busy consuming my fill of corn and tomatoes and summer squash that these rich jewels of late summer are sometimes pushed to the side.  But when the weather begins to turn cool…and the light begins to fade before we sit down to eat…I am really in the mood for the savory and substantial gratins, tarts, pastas, ragouts and stews in which these two really shine.

 

The recipe I’m sharing today is a perfect example of this.  It has more substance than the things I am likely to prepare on a warm summer day—but it is perfect for a cool evening.  Furthermore, as a person who is very attached to the light, it is cheering to be able to serve these vibrant fruits of summer during the rapidly fading light of an early fall evening.    

There are really two recipes embedded in this one recipe.  One is for a medley of chickpeas and roasted eggplant and peppers—all dressed in a lemony vinaigrette.  On a hot summer day, it would make a fantastic side for grilled lamb or steak.  Just add herbs (parsley, basil, mint or marjoram)…and maybe a few olives....

The other recipe is for a spiced freekeh pilaf.  I have posted several freekeh pilafs in the past and this is only slightly altered from those.  The first time I made this dish I spiced my pilaf with cinnamon and cumin.  The second time, I was measuring out the cinnamon when all of a sudden it occurred to me that fennel seed would be delicious instead of cinnamon.  I preferred the fennel…but you should use whichever you like best.  If you don’t have any freekeh…or don’t like it…simply substitute medium bulgur.  Bulgur only takes 15 to 20 minutes to cook (rather than 20 to 25), so adjust the recipe accordingly.  You could also simply serve the medley of vegetables on a mound of plain couscous.

This moment when the time is right for hearty eggplant and pepper preparations is short.  In a couple of weeks I know I will be totally ready for winter squash…and root vegetables…and rich, meat stews and braises.  But for now, dishes like this one are the perfect way for me to ease into the new season without quite letting go of the one that came before.

Early Autumn Medley of Roasted Eggplant & Peppers

with Chickpeas and Freekeh

This recipe might seem a bit complicated and lengthy, but it isn’t really.  It is difficult to express in the instructions, but many or the steps can be accomplished simultaneously.  I have kept the instructions for the “topping” of roasted vegetables and chickpeas together and separate from the preparation of the freekeh pilaf for clarity, but when you make it, it will be most efficient to sort of do everything at once.  Start with the bell peppers.  While they are roasting, start the onions for the pilaf.  Then, make the lemon-garlic vinaigrette and add the chickpeas.  When the peppers are done, put the eggplant in the oven.  At that point the onions will be done and you can add the freekeh and spices.  The eggplant will roast while the freekeh cooks.  You will be free during this time to peel and seed the peppers and mince the herbs.  The nuts can be toasted after the eggplant comes out of the oven.  (Or, if you prefer to do some of the work ahead, the bell pepper can be roasted, peeled and seeded ahead…and the nuts can be toasted, chopped and seasoned ahead.)

1 to 1 1/4 lb. red bell peppers (2 large or 3 medium)

Olive oil

2 T. lemon juice

1 large or 2 small cloves garlic, smashed to a purée with a pinch of salt

1/4 t. cayenne

1 15-oz. can chickpeas, drained and rinsed

1 1/2 lb. eggplant, topped & tailed and cut into 3/4- to 1-inch cubes

1/4 to 1/3 c. pistachios

1 medium red onion (about 8 oz), finely diced

1 1/3 c. freekeh, rinsed

1 t. fennel seed, crushed in a mortar & pestle

1 1/2 t. ground cumin

1 1/2 c. water

1/2 c. golden raisins

1 to 2 T. minced parsley

1 to 2 T. minced mint

Strained yogurt, Greek yogurt, or Labneh for serving

Roast the bell peppers:  Preheat the broiler to high.  Rub the peppers with a thin film of olive oil and place on a baking sheet.  Slide the peppers under the broiler, allowing them to char before rotating to expose all sides to the heat of the broiler.  When the skin is blackened and blistered all over, remove from the oven and set aside until cool enough to handle.  Adjust the oven rack to the middle position and set the oven to 450°.

While the peppers roast, place the lemon juice, garlic and cayenne in a large bowl.  Whisk to break up the garlic.  Whisk 2 T. olive oil into the lemon mixture.  Add the chickpeas and toss to coat.  Peel and seed the peppers and cut into a rough 1-inch dice.  Add the peppers to the chickpeas, folding to distribute.  Taste and correct the seasoning with salt.

Meanwhile, toss the eggplant in a generous amount of olive oil (about 3 T.) and season with salt & pepper.   Transfer the eggplant to a rimmed baking sheet that has been lightly sprayed with pan spray.  Roast in the preheated oven, rotating the pan from front to back  half way through the cooking time.  If you like, "stir" the eggplant once as it cooks by turning it over with a pancake turner.  The eggplant is done when it is golden and tender—about 25 minutes. 

When the eggplant is done cooking, remove from the oven and reduce the oven temperature to 350°.  Let the eggplant cool on the sheet for few minutes.  While it is still hot, add it to the bowl with the chickpeas and peppers and fold in.  Taste and correct the seasoning with salt, cayenne pepper and lemon juice.  

While the peppers and eggplant roast, cook the freekeh.  Warm 3 T. or so of olive oil in a heavy-bottomed pot set over medium heat. Add the onions and stir to coat in the fat. Sweat, stirring occasionally, until the onion is soft and translucent and just beginning to take on a bit of color at the edges—about 10 to 15 minutes. Increase the heat to medium high and add the drained freekeh along with the spices and a generous pinch of salt. Continue to cook for a minute  or so until the grains are coated in the oil and sizzling in the hot oil. Add the water and bring to a full boil. Reduce the heat to the lowest setting and cook, covered until the freekeh is tender—20 to 25 minutes. Remove from the heat and scatter the golden raisins over the surface of the freekeh. Cover and let rest for 5 minutes.  Add the herbs and fluff with a fork.  Taste and correct the seasoning. 

While the freekeh cooks, spread pistachios on a baking sheet and lightly toast in a 350­° oven until fragrant and tinged with a bit of color.  Don’t overdo it—you want the nuts to remain bright green.  Cool, chop coarsely and drizzle with a small amount of oil.  Season with salt.

To serve, mound the freekeh on individual plates or on a large platter.  Spoon the roasted vegetables over the freekeh and scatter the toasted pistachios over all.  Pass strained yogurt or labneh separately.  Serves 4 to 5.

Variations: 

• Substitute ground cinnamon for the fennel seed in the pilaf.
• Scatter crumbled Feta over the finished dish instead of passing labneh on the side.
• Substitute Bulgur for Freekeh.  Cook for 15 to 20 minutes. Use 1 2/3 c. water.

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Winter Salad

For some reason, 2017 turned out to be the year of the salad.  As I was thinking about the things I had posted over the past year, it occurred to me that I had written a lot of salad posts.   So I checked.  And I discovered that I had indeed written more about salad than anything else.  This post will be the eighth, making it so that salad will have outnumbered each of my other favorite topics (pasta....cake....pizza...soup....) by at least two to one.  This amazes me.  I mean really...  More salad than pasta?  or cake?....

No one should take this recent preponderance of salad posts as an indication that I will be changing the focus of my blog or the kinds of things I share here.  I will not be giving up cake (or any of my other favorites...) anytime soon.  I love cake!  But the fact is, I love salad too.  And while I have loved cake ever since I had the dexterity to get a fistful of it into my mouth, I have not always loved salad. 

This of course is no surprise to anyone who has visited my blog regularly over the years.  I have written on several occasions about my change of heart towards vegetables, but salad in particular conjures up a vivid memory from my college years.  Like most young women, I put an undue amount of mental energy into worrying about my weight.  One time a friend and I were bemoaning the fact that we just didn’t like to eat in a way that would promote slimness (in the ignorance of youth, the more important consideration of good health was not yet in the forefront of our minds).  Suddenly my friend said, "I want to be a 'salad person'—you know, one of those people who chooses to eat salad because they really like it!"  

If someone had told me then that I would not only come to like salad, but eventually truly love it, I would not have believed them.  But then I hadn't been exposed to very many good salads.  To me the word "salad" meant some sort of permutation of iceberg lettuce, shredded carrots, horse fodder-like nubbins of celery, hot house tomatoes, and stale packaged croutons...all glopped with bottled dressing.  No wonder I didn't like it.  My mother made a shredded carrot salad...and a Waldorf salad...that I liked, but in general my idea of salad was pretty limited...and not very favorable.  It was something you ate because it was "good for you"....which as far as food descriptors go is the kiss of death in my opinion.

But of course salad in its best form is the pinnacle of seasonal eating...  of fresh and raw....   Salad is also about delicious variety.  I could go on at great length about the wide array of foods that can be included in a salad...  the essential textural and flavor contrasts...  how to make a tasty homemade vinaigrette...   And of course, I have done this very thing over the course of the past year.  Whether you already love salad, or are just trying to like it, you should check out some of these old posts (you can find them by looking through the post titles in the side bar for this year, or by going to the salad section of my recipe index).

The salad I'm sharing today is one I taught this month in a class devoted to the foods my family has traditionally had for our Christmas Eve dinner.  Our menu has included a creamy and rich Wild Rice Soup since I was in grade school.  This was served alongside a lovely wreath bread my mother started making when I was in college.  There was also always a frozen cranberry "salad."  It may or may not have included jell-o....  The only thing salad-like about this concoction was the ruffled lettuce leaf upon which the "salad" was placed.  I deleted this item from the menu when I eventually took over holiday food preparation. 

I had never bothered to replace this dish because there is always so much going on Christmas Eve.  But this year, I took the opportunity of the class to come up with something that was more to my liking.  The Belgian Endive, Apple & Celery Salad I came up with is exactly what I'm craving this time of year.  It is crunchy, tangy, juicy.... In a word:  refreshing.  It is the perfect antidote the all the heavy, rich and creamy things the holiday brings.  Furthermore, the ingredients...and the beautiful monochromatic palette of colors....fairly shout "winter," making it a salad that is seasonal eating at its best.

I love this salad.  My class loved the salad.  And my mother loved the salad.  I will definitely be making it part of our Christmas Eve table from now on.  But more than that, because it is so simple...and the ingredients are so easy to keep on hand...I will be making this salad regularly during the winter months.  It really is the perfect winter salad—one that even non-salad people will probably like. 

Winter Salad

For the vinaigrette:
2 T. Champagne vinegar
1 small shallot, peeled and finely minced (1 1/2 to 2 T.)
1/4 t. salt, or to taste
1 t. Dijon mustard
6 T. extra-virgin olive oil

For the salad:
4 stalks of celery (about 7 oz. before trimming)
2 large Granny Smith apples (14 oz.)
4 heads Belgian endive (about 1 lb.)
1/2 c. (3 oz.) golden raisins
Lemon juice, optional/to taste

Make the vinaigrette:  Place the vinegar in a small bowl with the shallots and salt.  Set aside for five minutes or so to let the shallots soften a bit. Add the mustard and whisk until smooth. While whisking constantly, add the olive oil in a thin stream to form a slightly thickened, emulsified dressing.  Taste and correct the seasoning with salt.  Set aside.

To make the salad, trim the ends away from the celery stalks.  Using a vegetable peeler, remove any obtrusive strings from the outside of the ribs.  Cut the stalks into 3 or 4 lengths.  Slice each thinly to make a rough julienne of celery.

Wash the apples. Halve each lengthwise and remove the cores.  Using a mandolin slicer, slice each half thinly, lengthwise. 

Remove any bruised outer leaves of the endive and discard.  Halve the endive and remove the cores (by cutting a "v" shape around the core on each half with the tip of a paring knife).  Place each half face down on a cutting board and slice 1/3-inch thick on a long diagonal. 

Place the celery, apples, endive and raisins in a large bowl.  Drizzle with some of the vinaigrette (start with about 1/3 cup...you will probably need almost all of the vinaigrette, but it is better to start with less) and season well with salt and pepper.  Carefully toss so that all of the ingredients are lightly coated with the vinaigrette.  Add more vinaigrette as needed.  Taste and correct the seasoning.  If the salad seems well-seasoned and well-dressed, but still tastes a bit flat, give it a squeeze of lemon and toss again.  It should taste lively and juicy.  Mound the salad on a platter or divide among individual salad plates.  Serves 6 to 8 as a first course or a side salad.

Note:  The celery may be cut ahead.  The apples and endive must be cut right before serving as they will both oxidize after being cut.  

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