Chard Ohitashi

I first had sushi when I was 12. I was at summer camp, and we took a trip into the city for the day. My friends - far more cosmopolitan than I - had been missing sushi ever since their parents dropped them off at Camp Ramah, and I, never having encountered the stuff, was nonetheless eager to tag along and discover the magic. The bus dropped us off at Faneuil Hall, and from there, we set out to find a sushi bar. Find one that's crowded, they advised, as we walked along the side streets poking our heads into various Japanese restaurants. Never eat sushi if the restaurant's empty.

When we finally found a crowded enough spot that they were satisfied, we sat down, wiped our hands, and prepared to eat. I was excited and curious - and they were downright giddy, thrilled to witness the first time I popped a piece of raw fish in my mouth. It was a tuna roll - that's where I started. And admittedly, I was afraid I wouldn't like the texture, so I sort of just swallowed it whole. And then coughed. A lot. They cackled away; it was a grand time.

While the tuna maki is what sticks in my mind from that day, it was also the first time I tried miso soup, seaweed salad, and ohitashi. In fact, before that day, I'd never heard of any of the things we ate. Miso was a foreign concept, seaweed salad sounded awful (until I ate it), and ohitashi - well, my friend Jess ordered it, and I literally had no idea what'd be landing on our table. But out came a bowl of spinach, dressed with something delicious. And that, I happily gobbled right up - no gulping or coughing involved. I was hooked.

These days, I rarely order ohitashi. I can't seem to resist the allure of seaweed salad. Just when I thought it might not be something I ate much again, I found out how easy it was to make the stuff at home. Now it's a whole different ballgame; now I definitely don't order ohitashi in restaurants.

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Sorry - let's take a step back. Ohitashi: a cold marinated spinach salad, with soy, mirin, and sesame seeds. Secret ingredient: katsuobushi, which are dried flakes of bonito, a small, japanese fish not unlike mackerel. Bonito, like miso, is an umami-bomb. It makes everything taste super delicious. Super-delicious: that's a technical term.

Katsuobushi smells like stinky cheese, only a bit worse. Think fish sauce. It tastes totally un-stinky, though. If you're nervous about it, just remember that dashi - the basis of miso soup, soba broth, etc - is made with bonito flakes. If you're still nervous, skip it. The salad will be great without it, and also vegan.

Sushi bars make ohitashi with spinach, but it's great with any green - chard, collard, you name it. Kale would be even more firm, but it'd still be great.

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One more note about ohitashi: it isn't the sort of salad composed of light, airy leaves kissed with vinaigrette. The greens are blanched, then drained, then mixed with the dressing and allowed to just hang out for a while. At sushi bars, they wrap the spinach around itself, so the salad comes in a tight coil that you peel apart as you eat. That's why it's served not on a plate, where the greens can breathe, but in a little bowl. Sort of like miso soup, come to think of it.

But everything is flexible. Spinach or chard, plates or bowls, bonito flakes or not. It's just a straight-up good salad. The world needs more of those, don't you think?

Chard Ohitashiadapted from a recipe on Food52 serves 4 as an appetizer

9 oz (about 12 cups) chard, rinsed and sliced into thick, bite-sized ribbons 1/4 cup light soy sauce (not low-sodium - usukuchi; or just use whatever soy sauce you have) 1/4 cup mirin 2 teaspoons sriracha (more to taste) 1-inch knob of fresh ginger, peeled and grated 2 tablespoons sesame seeds 1/4 cup lightly packed bonito flakes (feel free to skip if you wish)

Bring a pot of unsalted water to a boil. Once the water is boiling, add chard - you may need to do this in a couple batches - and blanch, just until softened, 1-2 minutes. Strain chard - if you're particular, shock it in an ice bath; I'm not - and set aside. You'll see that the chard has wilted considerably and is about a tenth of its former size. Don't fret.

Meanwhile, make the dressing: combine soy sauce, mirin, sriracha, and ginger in a medium-large bowl.

Transfer the chard into the bowl with the dressing, and mix the two together using a fork to coat all the chard in dressing. Transfer the mixed salad into the fridge, and let sit at least one hour before serving. Believe it or not, this gets better the longer it sits.

To serve, scoop the chard into small bowls, and top with a sprinkle of sesame seeds and a pinch of bonito flakes. Eat up.

Cucumber Salad with Garlic and Ginger

Had everything gone according to plan, I'd probably be telling you that I served this cucumber salad to a few close friends at low-key Friday night dinner. That we ate szechuan roasted chicken, white rice, and this cucumber salad with plenty of garlic and ginger. That we stayed up late, drinking wine and telling funny stories. That a couple people asked for the recipe for this salad, and so here I am today, sharing it as asked.

What actually happened: the roast chicken was in the oven, watercress and pea shoots were awaiting a splash of soy vinaigrette, rice was on the stove, and I was standing over the sink, eating every last slice of cucumber right out of the mixing bowl. By the time guests came over, the salad had been reduced to a small puddle of dressing. Whoops.

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Let's make it right: here's the recipe for the salad I polished off alone.  You should exercise slightly more self-control when you encounter the perfect balance of sweet, salty, spicy, and tangy flavors in the dressing. Save some for the others, will ya?

Cucumber Salad with Garlic and GingerAdapted from - where else? - Plenty Serves 4. Sometimes.

Dressing: 3 tablespoons rice wine vinegar 2 teaspoons sugar 2 tablespoons neutral oil (I used safflower) 1 tablespoon sesame oil

1 small red onion, very thinly sliced and chopped into short pieces 1 1/2 inches fresh ginger, peeled 1 teaspoon Maldon or other flaky sea salt 2 large garlic cloves, peeled and sliced 8 mini cucumbers 1 tablespoon toasted sesame seeds 3 tablespoons chopped cilantro

Whisk all dressing ingredients together in a medium bowl. Add the red onion, mix well, and set aside to marinate for about 1 hour.

Mash the ginger and sea salt together in a mortar and pestle or with a knife on a wooden cutting board. Use the salt to crush the ginger. Add the garlic, and smash that, too. Transfer the whole mess into the dressing bowl, and stir to combine.

Slice the cucumbers into 1/4-inch slices and add to the dressing bowl. Toss to combine.

Salad will hold for a couple hours at room temperature or in the fridge. Sprinkle with cilantro and sesame seeds before serving.

Kale Salad with Avocado Dressing

This is the latest in NDP's Weekday Lunch series, your one and only source into the scandalous lives of my tupperware. For earlier Weekday Lunch posts, check this out.

I'm a big fan of kale salads. They're a pop of green in a season where not much is; they basically never wilt; and given how healthy they are, it's hard not to feel righteous eating one.

My usual kale salad combines lacinato kale - the long, bumpy leaves that are almost glamorous in texture, also known as dinosaur kale - with pine nuts, raisins or currants, and shards of Parmigiano Reggiano cheese. It's the sort of salad that's good now, better later. My friend (and author of various guest posts on NDP) Jeremy pointed out that over time, as the kale wilts, it takes on a texture almost like seaweed, which is quite pleasant.

Last week, in the mood for kale salad, I opened the fridge to find I was fresh out of lacinato. I did have a bunch of regular curly-leaf kale, but I knew it would take a thicker, more serious dressing to tame those wiry leaves. Where did I turn? The humble avocado.

Avocado dressings are flat-out underrated. People talk of yogurt, of mayonnaise (the enemy of delicious - I can't stand the stuff), of buttermilk, but never of avocado. It's too bad: avocados are smooth and buttery, thick enough to make a beautifully emulsified dressing, and did I mention they're delicious?

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For this salad, I combined kale with those crunchy, juicy asian pears that I can't seem to get enough of. I added scallions for texture and bite, then dressed the mess with a dressing of soy, rice wine vinegar, and avocado, whipped into submission with the help of grapeseed and sesame oils. And now, I warn you: people, the combination is addictive. I really can't get enough. I've made this dressing three or four times over the past few weeks, tweaking it ever so slightly to get that perfect zestiness. I've eaten it on regular kale, on lacinato kale once I replenished my supply, and even used it as a dip for slices of asian pear as an afternoon snack. It's ridiculously good. Hope you like it as much as I do.

Kale Salad with Avocado Dressing serves 2

1 bunch kale (any kind - regular or lacinato are both great; mine was about 3 oz) 1 asian pear, halved, cored, and sliced 2 scallions, sliced 1 avocado juice of 1 lime 1/2 tablespoon (1 1/2 teaspoons) soy sauce 1 tablespoon rice wine vinegar 1/4 teaspoon salt 1/2 teaspoon sesame oil 1/4 cup grapeseed oil water if needed

Rip the kale into medium sized pieces and place in a large bowl. Add sliced scallions and pear.

Scoop the avocado into a medium bowl and use a fork to mash it until totally smooth. Add all the remaining ingredients except the grapeseed oil and stir to combine. Then gradually add the grapeseed oil and whisk until fully combined. If necessary, add water by the tablespoon until dressing is thin enough to pour.

Add dressing to kale salad. Start with half, toss, and add more dressing if necessary. Allow the salad to sit for at least 10 minutes before serving. Salad will keep up to 1 day dressed; dressing will keep up to 1 week in the refrigerator.

Curried Cauliflower Chickpea Salad

You might -- as I did -- assume that any recipe written by the likes of Thomas Keller is completely out of reach for us mere mortals. Yes, he of the Best Restaurant in New York publishes books, with recipes in them. I have one of these books, and it isn't even the crazy-complicated one. It's Ad Hoc, the most approachable of his books, which documents the food from his family-style restaurant in Yountville. I've read it through several times; it's a beautiful volume. It's found a permanent home on our coffee table. Unfortunately, I've been too flat-out intimidated to actually make his food. The recipes look simple enough - farro with butternut squash, summer vegetable gratin, etc - but when you dig deeper, every recipe subtly calls for like eight other recipes. I was a bit put off.

You probably think I'm being lazy, or weak, or something. After all, better women have cooked every recipe from his high-end cookbook without breaking a sweat. (Okay, maybe a little sweat.) But I am not so bold. I confess, I tire at the site of long, involved recipes, especially when they're ultimately meant to be eaten as a weeknight dinner. I believe there's plenty of time to cook good food at home, even on weeknights, but multi-step recipes require either lots of time, or lots of foresight. These days, I have neither. But after this weekend, I do have a newfound enthusiasm and can-do spirit: I'm cooking (slightly adapted) Keller, and you can too.

I've been eyeing this salad of chickpeas and curried cauliflower for as long as I've had Ad Hoc at Home on my coffee table. The picture in the book is gorgeous: it features both dried and fresh chickpeas, sliced green and red endive, little coin-sized cauliflower florets, pretty pickled onions, the works. It looks so fresh and colorful, like something I would totally make.

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In reading the recipe, I thought the flavors in the dish seemed really well-balanced, so I hesitated to make any changes. But then I realized that I wanted to actually bite the bullet and make this recipe, so I forged ahead. No fresh chickpeas at the markets these days, and canned chickpeas are really fine: one step eliminated. I happened to have some pickled onions left over from another recipe, so I used those. If I hadn't had them, that step is actually quite easy. As for the wine-soaked raisins, I had only currants and red wine, instead of the white wine and golden raisins called for. Still, the end result was quite delicious. I even added dill, because I didn't have any parsley leaves (nor the time to fry them), and I think the salad benefited from the addition.

Does this prove that you can mess with Keller recipes successfully? N of 1, so I'm doubtful. But it does prove that Ad Hoc is more than coffee table eye candy. It's a book with recipes in it. Those recipes are for making, and after this experience, I'll be making more of them.

Also: One year ago today, I got hitched. Craziness! 10/17/10 was warm and sunny, joyous and spirited, and absolutely unforgettable in every way. Some of you were there in person to share that day with us, others shared it virtually via my post on the blog and your wonderful comments. I'm so happy to find myself in this space one year later, able to reminisce on that wonderful day with y'all. You're the best....and so is my awesome wife. Happy anniversary, D.

Curried Cauliflower and Chickpea SaladAdapted from Thomas Keller's Ad Hoc at Home

For the Cauliflower: 1 head of cauliflower salt 1 tablespoon white vinegar

For the Salad: 1/4 cup toasted pine nuts 3 heads endive (mix of red and green is pretty) 1 can chickpeas, rinsed and drained 4 oz. oil-cured black olives, pits removed 1/2 an onion (red or white), halved and sliced into thin rings 1/4 cup white vinegar 1 1/2 tablespoons sugar 1/4 cup raisins or currants, plumped in 1/4 cup wine (red or white) 1 tablespoon minced chives 1/4 cup chopped dill salt and pepper

Curry Vinaigrette: 2 teaspoons good quality curry powder (preferably Madras) 1/4 cup champagne vinegar 1/2 cup canola oil 1 teaspoon minced garlic salt and pepper

Prepare the Cauliflower: Core the cauliflower and remove the leaves. Halve the cauliflower, then cut into florets about the size of a quarter or slightly larger.

Set a medium pot full of salted water on high heat and bring to a boil. Add vinegar and cauliflower, and cook until cauliflower is fully cooked but still firm, about 4 minutes. Strain cauliflower into a bowl and cool completely.

Prepare Onions: Combine onions, vinegar, and sugar in a small bowl. Stir to combine, then set aside for about 10 minutes, longer if you have it.

Prepare Dressing: In a small dry pan over medium heat, toast curry powder until fragrant, about 2 minutes. Combine all ingredients in a jar and shake vigorously to combine. Add salt and pepper to taste.

Assemble the Salad: Remove the ends of each endive head, and slice into 1/4-inch rings. Transfer to a large bowl. Add cooled cauliflower, chickpeas, pine nuts, olives, onions (drained of their pickling liquid), raisins, and dill in a large bowl. Add dressing, stir to combine, and adjust salt and pepper levels to taste. Serve with chives sprinkled overtop.

Salad can be kept in an airtight container for a few days after serving, but is best the day it is made.