Not So Potato-y Salad

potato-salad-1 From a vege-mostly-tarian’s perspective, spring and summer are the seasons to beat. Fresh fruit and vegetables are available in abundance, and the variety, especially in summer, is simply unmatched. I make at least one salad a day; using anything from the usual lettuce and Israeli cucumbers to radishes to carrots to tomatoes and nectarines, mushrooms and garlic scapes and beets and even raw kale (my newest addition), I rarely repeat ingredients two days in a row.

It’s in this light that barbeque food confuses the hell out of me; why, when there are so many beautiful fruits and vegetables available, do we resort to coleslaws and potato salads that are literally choking on my gloppy, quivering, nemesis, the devil named Mayo? Those thick, white dressings are a “no, thanks” for me, but if we’re going to use them, why not when we’re on our 20th batch of kale and need to get creative about masking the taste of winter? I simply don’t get the desire to coat delicious summer vegetables in all that goop. …And the Mayo gripes resume.

While I almost always serve a leafy green salad with meals these days, I did buy some really beautiful tiny tomatoes at the Foggy Bottom market last week, which gave me an occasion to reconsider the merits of potato salad. I’m not a huge potato person, but I get the appeal of having a side dish that’s got some starch and substance but isn’t the same old rice or other grain. However, instead of putting the potatoes front and center, I decided to make room for other vegetables to share the limelight. Happily, the market provided many options. I settled on some pattypan, small summer squash that are shaped somewhat like a flying saucer, as well as some nice-looking green beans.

potato-salad-2

After boiling, shocking, and slicing the potatoes, I sliced and blanched the zucchini. I left the green beans raw, for crunch, and I'm glad I did -- they provided a much-needed contrast to the softer vegetables. I coated the salad in a light, tangy, slightly spicy shallot-mustard vinaigrette, which complemented the slight bitterness of the zucchini and gave otherwise boring potatoes some real character. All in all, this is the type of potato salad I'd actually go for: it highlights summer produce instead of masking it, and its tangy flavors will make a great addition to any barbeque.

Not So Potato-y Salad

1 pound small (like, really small) red and yellow potatoes 2 long summer squash (yellow or green), sliced into 1/2-inch slices 1 pound green beans, halved 2 shallots, diced finely 2 teaspoons coarse dijon mustard 1 teaspoon honey 1/4 cup sherry or white wine vinegar 1/8 cup olive oil 1 teaspoon walnut oil, optional salt and pepper

Boil potatoes in 4 cups water until soft but not mushy, about 10 minutes. Using a slotted spoon, remove potatoes and transfer to serving bowl. Let cool 15 minutes.

Meanwhile, blanch squash slices in potato water about 2 minutes, just until soft. Drain and run under cold water for a couple seconds to stop cooking. Transfer to serving bowl.

Slice potatoes into rounds, and transfer to serving bowl. Add green beans and toss to mix.

In a small bowl or dressing jar, combine all remaining ingredients except oil. Pour oil in a slow stream, whisking to combine. If using jar, shake vigorously to emulsify. Add dressing to salad and toss about 10 minutes before serving. Serve at room temperature.

Summer Succotash

succotash1 Round next of my weekday lunch series, where I post about dishes that'll put PB&J to shame.

I love the flavor of buttery, salty, corn on the cob. I love it even more now that I've discovered the sweetest corn ever, from Toigo Orchards. Toigo sets up shop at the Dupont farmers' market; their corn has apparently won "best at the market" several years in a row. The last time I bought it, I was told it was picked the day before; it doesn't get much fresher than that. And having tried other ears, they really don't compare. Some are too starchy, and others have a thick, almost leathery skin around the kernel, whereas Toigo's ears are sweet, the thin-skinned kernels practically bursting with juice.

Having bought quite a few ears last week, I was searching for new things to do with them come week's end. For dinner on Friday night, I served this succotash dish -- a very simple play on that classic Southern staple. It's got the flavor of sweet, salty cob corn but with just a drizzle of olive oil instead of the usual butter. I bulked up the succotash with some chopped green beans, which I left on the raw side, and panfried zucchini, which I essentially seared in a smoking but oil-less castiron pan, then allowed to soften in the serving bowl. The succotash gets a boost from freshly-squeezed lemon juice and a bit of the lemon's zest, but other than that, olive oil, salt, and pepper are its only seasoning. When the produce is this good, you don't want to doctor it up much more than that.

succotash2

Summer Succotash serves 4

3 summer squash (I used a mix of long yellow squash and stubby green pattypan, but anything will work -- you're going for between 1.5 and 2 pounds.) 3 ears of corn, husks and strings removed, kernels cut from cob 1 lb. green beans, trimmed and cut into thirds 1 lemon 4 tablespoons olive oil

Slice squash on bias into 1/2-inch slices. Heat a large, well-seasoned castiron pan or a nonstick pan over medium-high heat (If using stainless steel, add a bit of olive oil to lubricate.) When pan is very hot, place some of the squash slices in the pan in a single layer and cook until browned, about 3 minutes. Flip and repeat with flip side, 3 minutes more. Sprinkle liberally with sald, then transfer to a large non-reactive bowl; squash will not feel completely soft, but they will soften as they sit. Continue cooking squash in batches until all slices have been cooked.

Next, add 2 Tbsp. olive oil to pan, and add corn. Cook, stirring constantly, about 1 minute; salt, and transfer to bowl with squash. Add remaining 2 Tbsp. olive oil and green beans to pan; cook about 1-2 minutes, salt, and transfer to bowl.

Stir vegetables until well-distributed. Grind some fresh black pepper into the bowl, and zest and squeeze the lemon overtop. Serve warm or at room temperature.

Maple Walnut Oatmeal with Peaches

maplewalnutoatmeal1 My breakfast habits usually vary from season to season. I tend to alternate between Terri and Kendall's go-to oatmeal recipe (oats, water, agave syrup, wheat germ, and flax seeds) and toast with an egg and fake bacon during the winter. During summertime, though, it's all about yogurt. There are few things I love more than yogurt -- especially that uber tart and rich stuff that I make at home -- and I eat it very, very often during the hot months. Until this week. See, I bought a little container of good organic yogurt and a gallon of organic whole milk, stepped up on a stool to pull down my yogurt maker from its above-the-fridge hiding place, and set out to make some yogurt, but for some reason, the batch emerged looking nothing like yogurt and everything like watery curds. My big yogurtFAIL kind of killed my buzz. That's when I remembered the half tub of oatmeal leftover from wintertime, sitting on the fridge all by its lonesome. So I threw some in the microwave and called it a morning.

maplewalnutoatmeal2

But then I decided, as long as I'm breaking my breakfast routine, I may as well go nuts. I remembered something a friend once told me, about how oatmeal can actually be a thoroughly luxurious food. Channeling her mention of luxury, I added a generous tab of butter I got at the farmers' market last week to my oats and water. After heating the oatmeal through, I tossed in some fresh cut peaches, a glug or two of really good milk from the market, a teaspoon or so of maple syrup, and -- wait for it -- just a slight drizzle of walnut oil. The result was simply divine. The walnut oil played up the nutty sweetness of the maple syrup, while the subtly sweet richness of the butter and milk provided contrast for those perfectly bright peach slices. I don't usually do double-flips over oatmeal, but this is one recipe that'll have me reaching for that tub of oats, even when there's edible yogurt in the fridge. maplewalnutoatmeal3

Maple Walnut Oatmeal with Peaches (serves 1)

1/2 cup oats, not instant 1 cup water about 1 tsp. butter, optional (I've made it several times without, and it's plenty tasty) 1 1/2 tsp. maple syrup 1 tsp. walnut oil a couple glugs of milk

In a large, covered microwave-safe bowl, microwave oats, water, and butter (if using) for 3 minutes. If doubling recipe, cook 5 minutes. Remove bowl from microwave, uncover, and add remaining ingredients. Stir to incorporate and serve hot.

Sardine and Fava Bean Bruschetta

fava-sardine-1 I can't remember if I've ever written a love song to favas on this blog. I mean, I've written about them, but I probably haven't sung their praises as much as they deserve. Starting in late May, I bother the farmers at my local market every Sunday, trying to subtly nudge them to pick their favas as soon as they're ready so I can dig in. The first few weeks, I'm met with transparently frustrated replies of "they're not ready, lady!" but around the second week in June, out they come. From them on, you'll find me and my tote bags by the fava bin. That's right.

Favas come double-wrapped, so to speak; they're tucked in a waxy coating that's nestled inside a pod. To eat favas, you pop open the pods, scoop out and blanch the beans, and then remove the outer shell. Work intensive? Yea, but you won't find me complainin'. Favas are sweet and green and, with a little salt and not much else, the delicious essence of early summer.

While I usually just toss my favas in a salad or mix them with some pasta and other vegetables, I also really like fava bean spread. Mine is smooth enough to spread but still quite chunky, and laced with a whole lot of garlic and a squeeze of lemon. If I don't finish it all before using it, I'll spread it on a baguette and eat it just so. Or, if I'm really feelin' it, I'll top my bruschetta with some vinegar-and-oil-cured sardine fillets. The idea came to me from an Epicurious recipe for cannellini and sardine bruschetta. I love cannellini, but I don't stock my pantry with dry or canned beans when fresh ones are so readily available during the summer, so I subbed in favas for the cannellini the recipe called for. The combination worked perfectly: the headiness of the garlicy fava spread stood up well to the sardines, which added just the right amount of richness and tang. Toasted baguette, more than a vehicle, was crunchy and light, a fine contrast for the favas and sardines perched atop it. I finished off the bruschetta simply, with a bit of olive oil and a grind of the pepper mill. It didn't need much else. fava-sardine-2

The fact that I've managed to get this far without begging ya'll not to hate sardines is a testament only to how silly I think sardine-squeamishness really is. Sardines are awesome; their flavor is strong and pungent, they're a bit oily and somewhat tangy, they're packed with omega-3s, and really, they're delicious. If you hate'em, be that way. If not, welcome to my club. Enjoy your stay. Want some sardine and fava bean bruschetta?

Sardine and Fava Bean Bruschetta inspired by a recipe from Gourmet

1/4 lb. sardines, oil-packed or salt-packed are fine (if salt packed, be sure to rinse thoroughly) (1 tin sardines will be plenty) 4 lbs. fava beans, shelled, blanched, and peeled (see here for instructions) 2 cloves garlic 2 Tbsp. lemon juice salt and pepper 1 baguette olive oil

Slice baguette on sharp bias into 1 3/4-inch slices and set aside. On a cutting board, chop garlic into small pieces. Add a sprinkle of salt; using a very sharp knife, drag the blade toward you across the garlic, mashing it and the salt with the side of your knife. Keep dragging and regathering the garlic until it resembles a pretty smooth paste. Add favas. Continue this motion until favas have been pretty mashed with the garlic, and the whole thing looks smooth enough to spread but still fairly chunky. Scoop up and put into a medium sized bowl. Add salt and lemon juice and mash up with a fork to incorporate. Add salt to taste.

Toast baguettes until golden. Cool five minutes on a rack, then plate and spread with some of the fava spread. Top with 2 fillets of sardines, a glug of olive oil, and a grind of the pepper mill. Serve just so.