In the Hands of a Chef (9 page)

3.
Add the chicken stock and bring to a boil. Lower the heat to a simmer, then return the rabbit and sausage to the pot. Cover and cook for 1 hour.

4.
Flip the sausage and rabbit so they cook evenly, add the chickpeas, and cook for another 30 minutes or so, adding more stock if needed. When done, the rabbit should be just about falling off the bone.

5.
Remove the rabbit and sausage from the pot. When it is cool enough to handle, shred the
rabbit meat off the bones. Slice the sausage into ½-inch diagonal pieces. Remove the bay leaves and discard. Season the soup with salt and pepper.

6.
Return the meat to the pot. Heat the soup to warm everything through. Add the sherry, tomatoes, and parsley and simmer for 5 minutes.

7.
Ladle the soup into warm bowls and serve.

NOTE:
To peel the garlic, blanch the unpeeled cloves in boiling water for 15 seconds, then shock in ice water and drain. The skins should slide off easily.

S
alad ingredients are the ultimate
individualists. They may be tossed in the same bowl, but they never really blend together, and anything more than a few ingredients risks sinking the whole enterprise. The central point of salad is for a few items to stand out from the crowd while you balance texture, size, color, and acidity. By restricting the focus, it’s easier to appreciate in-season tomatoes, corn that you’ve just stripped off the cob, high-quality sherry vinegar, and fresh herbs.

Roughly half the recipes of this chapter are based on leafy greens tossed with homemade vinaigrettes. But the addition of one or two other elements—edible flowers, deviled eggs, a mint infusion, fried onions, or a wide variety of herbs—ensures that each is distinctly different. Typically I offer leafy salads after a main course, where they serve as a breather before dessert. But one of green salad’s charms is its ability to become a side dish, main course, or even the slightly sweet finale to a meal.

The remaining salads are all iconoclasts, sharing only their individuality. Panzanella, a traditional Italian bread salad, and Grilled Onion and Parsley Salad with Black Olives and Pomegranate Seeds are worlds apart in taste and texture. Both are comfortable as side dishes, salad courses, or
even the basis of a lunch entrée. Roasted Pear and Radicchio Salad and Beet and Spinach Salad are composed of separately prepared elements artfully arranged on individual plates, unified only by a sauce or dressing. Either can serve as a formal prelude to a main course or stand alone as the centerpiece of a light lunch.

F
ancy garnishes are guilty until
proven innocent in my book, but I make an exception for edible flowers—they actually add to the flavor of a salad. Nasturtiums have an appealing pepperiness; chive blossoms taste almost as you would imagine, with an unexpected sweetness; in fact, the flowers of most herbs have a faint flavor of the herb itself. Johnny-jump-ups, pansies, and rose and marigold petals are also edible, as well as squash and zucchini blossoms. Young dandelion flowers (and their greens) are delicious, but their bitter flavor makes them more appropriate for a salad with stronger flavors. A salad with herbs and baby lettuces is ideal for other edible flowers because it doesn’t need a strong vinaigrette, which would overwhelm the flowers’ mild flavor. Flowers for eating should only be purchased from a grocer, produce dealer, or organic farmer—not a florist.

MAKES 4 SERVINGS

1 teaspoon minced shallot

1 teaspoon Dijon mustard

1 tablespoon sherry vinegar

1 tablespoon balsamic vinegar

½ cup extra virgin olive oil

Kosher salt and freshly ground black pepper

6 cups lightly packed baby lettuces, washed and dried well

¾ cup mixed herb leaves (e.g., chervil, parsley, basil, mint, chives, and thyme), stems removed as necessary, large leaves of mint and basil chopped in half

4 small radishes, cut into ⅛-inch matchsticks

2 ounces organic edible flowers or flower petals (nasturtium blossoms, pansies, johnny-jumpups, etc.; see headnote)

1.
Whisk the shallot, mustard, and vinegars together in a small bowl to form an emulsion. Continue whisking while adding the olive oil in a thin, steady stream until it is completely absorbed and the vinaigrette is smooth. Season with salt and pepper.

2.
Toss the lettuces in a large bowl with the herbs. Add enough vinaigrette for a light coating and toss gently until everything is dressed. (You may have a little vinaigrette left over, depending on the size and shape of your greens.) Taste, then season with salt and pepper if necessary.

3.
Arrange the salad on chilled plates. Sprinkle each serving with radish sticks and flowers. Serve immediately.

T
his is an old-fashioned salad,
not unlike something my grandmother would have made (minus the garlic) on a warm summer evening.

MAKES 4 SERVINGS

4 extra-large eggs

2 tablespoons Mayonnaise (page 13)

1 tablespoon plus 1 teaspoon Dijon mustard

2 tablespoons finely chopped fresh flat-leaf parsley

1 tablespoon minced fresh chives

1 teaspoon finely chopped fresh tarragon

1 teaspoon freshly squeezed lemon juice

Kosher salt and freshly ground black pepper

4 garlic cloves, peeled

½ cup heavy cream

3 tablespoons extra virgin olive oil, plus some for toasting the bread

1 small shallot, minced

2 tablespoons red wine vinegar

Eight ½-inch-thick slices French bread

1 head Bibb lettuce, separated into leaves

2 celery stalks, peeled and thinly sliced on the diagonal

1.
Put the eggs in a small saucepan and cover with cold water. Bring the water to a boil over high heat. Remove the saucepan from the heat and allow the eggs to cool in the water for 25 minutes; drain.

2.
Peel the eggs and cut in half lengthwise. The yolks should still be bright yellow and slightly soft in the very center. Scoop out the yolks and push them through a fine-mesh strainer into a bowl. Add the mayonnaise, 1 teaspoon of the mustard, the herbs, and lemon juice and mix well. Season with salt and pepper. Spoon the herbed yolks into the whites. Cover and refrigerate.

3.
Meanwhile, put the garlic in a small saucepan and cover with 1 inch of water. Season with salt and bring to a boil, then reduce the heat to a simmer and cook until the garlic is very soft, about 10 minutes. Drain the garlic, rinse, and drain again. Return the garlic to the pan and add the cream. Bring to a boil, lower the heat to a simmer, and cook until thickened, about 6 minutes. Season with salt and pepper. Transfer cream and garlic to a blender, add 3 tablespoons of the oil, and purée until smooth.

4.
Whisk the remaining 1 tablespoon mustard, the shallot, and vinegar together in a small bowl. Whisk in the pureed cream mixture. Season with salt and pepper.

5.
To make the croutons, brush the slices of bread with the olive oil and toast until golden brown and crisp. Season with salt and pepper.

6.
Toss the lettuce in a large bowl with the celery and dressing. Season with salt and pepper. Distribute the salad among four chilled plates. Put half an egg on each crouton. Set 2 croutons on each salad and serve.

M
y friend and teacher
Nancy Verde Barr first introduced me to the Italian technique of steeping mint in vinegar and water, then using the liquid to add a bold mint flavor to salad. A steeping period as short as 30 minutes will give the vinaigrette a substantial mint kick, but if you have the inclination, you might try it for a couple of hours, or even overnight to see just how intense the flavor can become.

In my repertoire of salads, this one is a rare exception in that my favorite time to serve it is out of season, in the winter. In New England, there is no local table grape industry, so I buy them out of season in a supermarket; mint is available year-round (but not in my backyard). The salad makes a bright and refreshing contrast to root vegetables, like a summer day that has suddenly wandered into the middle of February.

MAKES 4 SERVINGS

¼ cup red wine vinegar

2 tablespoons water

½ cup plus 2 tablespoons coarsely chopped fresh mint

1 small shallot, minced

¾ cup extra virgin olive oil

Kosher salt and freshly ground black pepper

1 large head Romaine lettuce, leaves separated, washed, and dried

1 small red onion, sliced paper-thin, soaked in ice water for 30 minutes (to remove bitterness), drained, and dried

½ pound seedless grapes, washed and cut in half

½ cup sliced almonds, toasted

¼ pound ricotta salata, thinly sliced

1.
Combine vinegar, water, and 2 tablespoons of the chopped mint in a small nonreactive saucepan. Bring to a simmer, then remove from the heat, and let steep for 30 minutes.

2.
Strain the vinegar into a small bowl and discard the mint. Add the shallot. Whisk in the oil in a thin, steady stream. Season with salt and pepper.

3.
Mix the Romaine leaves in a large bowl with the remaining ½ cup mint, the red onion, and grapes. Add the vinaigrette and toss well. Taste, then season with salt and pepper if necessary.

4.
Arrange the salad on chilled plates, top with the toasted almonds and slices of ricotta salata, and serve.

T
his is a poor man’s
version of the classic Italian salad of porcini mushrooms sliced paper-thin and dressed with extra virgin olive oil, lemon juice, and black pepper. Portobellas aren’t as noble as porcini, but they’re more readily available and a lot less expensive. They have their own admirable flavor, and their meaty texture almost equals that of porcini. This salad makes a fine appetizer, accompaniment for a Tuscan-Style Sirloin with Parmesan, Lemon, and Truffle Oil (page 263), or end-of-the-meal salad. If you chance upon a batch of fresh porcini and are feeling flush, by all means replace the portobellas with their more aristocratic cousins.

Examine the portobella cap carefully before you buy it. It should feel firm, not spongy, and the edges of the cap should be still be intact, not dry or cracked. Slice it as thin as possible with a sharp knife or, if its blade is very sharp, a mandoline.

MAKES 4 SERVINGS

1 head endive, separated into leaves (about 12 leaves)

4 cups lightly packed arugula, washed and dried

1 large portobella mushroom cap (3 to 4 ounces), cleaned and sliced paper-thin

1 tablespoon freshly squeezed lemon juice

6 tablespoons extra virgin olive oil

Kosher salt and freshly ground black pepper

2 ounces Parmesan, shaved with vegetable peeler

1.
Put the endive leaves, arugula, and mushrooms in a bowl. Drizzle the lemon juice over the salad, add the olive oil, season with salt and pepper, and toss well. Taste, then adjust the seasonings if necessary.

2.
Arrange the salad on chilled plates, sprinkle with the Parmesan shavings, and serve.

T
his is a hearty country-style
combination of escarole and romaine that bears a distant relation to Caesar salad—similar ingredients, but much different handling, with crispy fried onions replacing the textural crunch of a Caesar salad’s croutons. I like to use capocollo instead of prosciutto because it’s fattier, a little less refined, which is just right for the strong flavors of this dish.

Take the time to fry the onions; the salad just isn’t the same without the irresistible crispy topping. They can be made several hours in advance without any loss of flavor or texture, and they’re intended to be served at room temperature, not warm.

MAKES 4 SERVINGS

1 garlic clove, minced and then mashed with a pinch of salt to make a paste