Watermelon and Mesclun Salad, More Dangerous than You Think

FoodBlogga Etiquette Tip #43: At dinner, never discuss politics, religion, or the issue of fruit on salad.

I was at dinner with friends recently where they served a delightful mesclun salad with fresh strawberries and parmesan cheese. Well, I thought it was delightful; my dinner companions disagreed.

As we were discussing benign topics such as the recent "humidity" we have been experiencing here in San Diego (laughable compared to the rest of the country this summer), I pointed out to one of my friends that she hadn't eaten any of her strawberries. "Don't you like strawberries?" I asked her. "Oh yes, I love strawberries," she replied, "but not on salad."

What was it she didn't like? Were the berries too sweet? Was it the mixing of vinegar and fruit? Her response: “I just don’t like fruit on salad.”

This sparked a surprisingly intense discussion. I can understand how some people hate cilantro because it tastes like soap to them, but strawberries or apple slices? One friend called diced melon on salad “just wrong,” while another declared, “strawberries belong on cereal not on salad.”

I was truly surprised by their passionate responses. Do you like fruit on your salad? And if you don’t, then help me understand why.

Here are two fruity salads that I just adore. (Anti-fruit&salad people might want to avert their eyes). My Watermelon and Green Olive Salad is adapted from a June 2006 recipe in Food and Wine. It's sweet and salty and savory all at once, plus it’s a pleasing blend of smooth and crunchy textures. I added the cooked shallots for their rich, caramelized flavor and seasoned it with lots of fresh parsley.

Watermelon and Green Olive Salad
Makes 4 servings
Print recipe only here.

1 tsp olive oil
1 shallot, thinly sliced
½ tsp sugar

6-8 cups mesclun, preferably with some arugula and radicchio mixed in
½-1 cup watermelon chunks
5-6 cured green olives, such as Cerignola or green Greek

1 Tbsp extra-virgin olive oil
2 Tbsp white wine vinegar
1 Tbsp watermelon juice
Salt and pepper, to taste
2 tsp fresh parsley, chopped

Heat 1 tsp olive oil in a small skillet over medium-low heat; add shallots and cooked until slightly caramelized about 5-7 minutes.

Whisk 1 Tbsp olive oil, vinegar, and watermelon juice until blended. Season with salt and pepper.

Add mesclun to plates, top with watermelon chunks, olive slices, and fresh parsley. Drizzle with dressing and enjoy!

I posted this Arugula, Strawberry, and Sugar Snap Pea Salad on Fit Fare back in June and had to post it here because it’s just too scrumptious not to share. I love the interplay between the sweet strawberries and peppery arugula which are complemented with a zippy, lemon-balsamic dressing. The fresh basil and mint really make this salad shine, so make sure you don’t skimp!

Arugula, Strawberry, and Sugar Snap Pea Salad
Makes 4 servings
Print recipe only here.

Salad:
6-8 cups arugula
1 cup sliced strawberries
1-1 ½ cup sugar snap peas

Dressing:
1 Tbsp extra-virgin olive oil
1 Tbsp white balsamic vinegar
1 Tbsp fresh lemon juice
Pinch of grated lemon zest
½ Tbsp water
Salt and pepper, to taste
A handful of thinly sliced fresh basil
A handful of fresh torn mint leaves

For dressing, whisk all of the ingredients in a small bowl.

The sugar snap peas can be eaten raw or cooked. To cook, simply drop in boiling water for 2 minutes; drain and plunge into a bowl of ice water. This will stop the cooking process and preserve the peas’ bright green color.

To prepare the salad, divide the arugula, strawberries, and sugar snap peas evenly among four plates. Add dressing; top with fresh basil and mint.

Since these salads are loaded with health-promoting antioxidants (especially lycopene in watermelon and strawberries), I'm submitting this post to Cate of Sweetnicks for her ARF 5-a-day Tuesday.

Here are a few more fruity salads I came across recently. If these bloggers like fruit in their salad, then I know I’m in good company.

Terry’s Arugula Salad with Peaches and Goat Cheese

Jeanne’s Roasted Nectarines in Prosciutto

Alanna’s Melon, Blueberry, and Feta Salad and Watermelon, Cucumber, and Feta Salad

Laura’s Spiced Orange and Avocado Salad

You might also like:

Mexican Citrus Salad with an Orange-Lime Vinaigrette

Sicilian Salad of Fennel, Oranges, and Olives

Bulgur Salad with Chickpeas, Cranberries, and Toasted Almonds

Summer is Time for Salsa and a New Handbag

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On Our Honeymoon, I Ate a Lot of Potatoes

With our 12th wedding anniversary right around the corner, I thought I’d look up 12th year wedding gifts. The traditional gifts are silks and linens. Who came up with those? Does that mean I should expect a linen table cloth? Should Jeff expect silk pajamas? I think not.

In fact, after 12 years together, I want to give Jeff something memorable, something unique. So, I was thinking a potato. Not any potato. (What kind of wife do you think I am?) A jacket potato, as they call it in England, or as we Yanks call it, a stuffed potato. Now, before you consider me the most un-romantic person you’ve ever met, read on.

Our honeymoon had an inauspicious start. Our scheduled non-stop flight from Boston to London was cancelled due to thunderstorms, and consequently our luggage was “misplaced” (the Brits’ genteel word for “lost”). In part due to a choppy ride and part due to just-married-bliss, we did not sleep on the flight over and landed in London late and red-eyed.

When we arrived, we discovered that our inn was just as we anticipated: a Victorian brownstone on a tree lined, thoroughly British street. There was even a consummate Brit, heels clicking on the pavement, with his walking stick swinging in one hand and the Sunday Times in the other.

The woman at the inn greeted us warmly then asked for our name. After Jeff told her, she looked at him, then at me, then back at him and back to me. She said, “Uncanny how much you two look alike. Are you brother and sister?”

Brother and sister?! We weren’t even married for 24 hours and someone thought we were siblings! When she realized her error, she was terribly embarrassed, and tried (unsuccessfully) to backtrack, with things like, “Well, that’s a terrible image to have on your honeymoon.” Sometimes silence is the best antidote.

When Jeff and I were alone later, I asked him if he thought there could be anything worse than on your first day as a married couple being told you look like brother and sister. He said, “Yeah. Being told you look like father and daughter.” True.

Despite an unfavorable start, our honeymoon was grand. London in June is spectacular—the weather is glorious, the arts are thriving, and the food… well let me say this about the food. This was 1995 (pre-Jamie Oliver), and as a finicky vegetarian, whose palate was much less developed than it is now, I ate a lot of scones and jacket potatoes.

Jacket potatoes are traditional British fare: baked potatoes with a “jacket” on top. The jacket can be any number of edible toppings like simple beans and cheese or fancier prawns. While Jeff enjoyed the full range of British fare, I became well-acquainted with jacket potatoes. After two weeks of them, I was put-off potatoes for some time.

We were just reminiscing about this the other day, and as one word led to another, I decided to make a jacket potato (my first one in 12 years). I came up with two versions: olives, sun-dried tomatoes, pine nuts, and feta and another with a creamy artichoke, rosemary, and parmesan sauce. They were really quite good, but I don’t recommend eating them 14 days straight.

I used Idaho potatoes (a type of russet potato) because they are high in starch and low in moisture, which is preferable for baked potatoes. For more on potatoes, check out the British Potato Council where you can learn everything there is to know about buying, preparing, and eating 'em.

I am submitting this post to the delightful Jeanne of Cook Sister! who is hosting this month’s WTSIM stuffed fruit or vegetable. Though the Mediterranean jacket potato is my official "stuffed" entry, I'll consider the creamy artichoke potato recipe a bonus.

By the way, the "modern" gift for 12th anniversaries is pearls. I think I'll stick with potatoes since pearls really aren't Jeff's taste.

Mediterranean Jacket Potatoes
Makes 4 servings.
Print recipe only here.

4 (10-12 ounce) Idaho potatoes, scrubbed

½ cup mixed cured olives, such as Kalamata and Cerignola, sliced
½ cup sun-dried tomatoes, thinly sliced (dry-packed or oil-soaked)
1 Tbsp each of fresh rosemary, thyme, parsley, and oregano
1/8 cup extra virgin olive oil
A few shakes of crushed red pepper
Pinch of salt
6 ounces feta cheese, crumbled
2 Tbsp pine nuts, toasted

Preheat the oven to 400. Scrub the potatoes under cold water and pat dry. Using a paring knife, pierce the potatoes all over, about a dozen times. Place on a baking sheet. Bake for 60-90 minutes or until tender. You can test it by inserting a knife. When cooked, make about a 3-4-inch long cut lengthwise along the top of each potato. Squeeze the two ends toward the middle to open up the potato, and be careful of the steam that escapes!

For the “jacket,” in a small bowl, toss together the olives, sun-dried tomatoes, herbs, olive oil, crushed red pepper, and salt. Note: If you’re using dry-packed sun-dried tomatoes, then allow them to rest in warm water for 5 minutes before slicing.

To toast the pinenuts, place in a dry skillet over medium heat for about 1 minute or until golden brown. Shake the pan handle gently to ensure even toasting. Remove from heat.

Once potatoes are cooked, simply top each one with ¼ of the olive mixture. Sprinkle with feta cheese and toasted pine nuts before serving.

Jacket Potatoes with a Rosemary-Artichoke Cream Sauce
Makes 4 servings.
Print recipe only here.

4 (10-12 ounce) Idaho potatoes, scrubbed

4-5 baby artichokes, outer leaves removed, quartered or ½ of a (14-oz) can of artichoke hearts
1 Tbsp butter
1 cup milk
1 Tbsp flour
1/4 cup grated Parmesan cheese
1-2 Tbsp fresh rosemary, finely chopped
Salt and pepper, to taste

Preheat the oven to 400. Scrub the potatoes under cold water and pat dry. Using a paring knife, pierce the potatoes all over, about a dozen times. Place on a baking sheet. Bake for 60-90 minutes or until tender. You can test it by inserting a knife. When cooked, make about a 3-4-inch long cut lengthwise along the top of each potato. Squeeze the two ends toward the middle to open up the potato, and be careful of the steam that escapes!

If you’re using fresh baby artichokes, then drop the cleaned, quartered artichokes in boiling water for 3 minutes and drain. For canned artichokes, do not boil.

In a small skillet over medium heat, melt butter, then add the boiled or canned artichokes, stirring occasionally, about 2-3 minutes. Add milk and flour, and stir until sauce thickens and begins to bubble, 3-5 minutes. Remove from heat; cool partially. Pour sauce into a blender; blend until smooth and creamy. Return to skillet over low heat. Add the grated Parmesan, rosemary, and salt and pepper; heat through another 3-5 minutes.

Once potatoes are cooked, simply top each one with ¼ of the sauce. Sprinkle with additional chopped rosemary and grated cheese if desired.




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Cauliflower Gets New Clothes

The second featured vegetable of the cruciferous make-over (see Brussels sprouts on Botox) is the cauliflower. And there will be no boiling involved.

One day back in the '80's, my mother, desperate for a way to get us to eat cauliflower, decided to egg and breadcrumb it, then fry it. Brilliant. Now it was kid-friendly finger food that was good for you too. (Okay, maybe not the oil; but at least she didn’t use a deep fryer.)

To get the breaded cauliflower satisfyingly crunchy, I bake it in a high oven—no frying necessary. And I've smartened it up with a flavorful olive and fresh herb tapenade that takes minutes to make.

CRISPY BREADED CAULIFLOWER with an OLIVE and HERB TAPENADE
Makes 4 servings.
Print recipe only here.

1 medium head of cauliflower
4 egg whites
2 cups plain breadcrumbs
Salt and pepper

½ cup minced mixed cured olives, such as Kalamata, Cerignola, Nicoise
2 Tbsp good olive oil
1 Tbsp minced fresh basil
1 Tbsp minced fresh parsley
2 Tbsp finely grated Parmesan cheese
A couple of pinches of red pepper flakes

In one small bowl, place eggs whites. In another small bowl, place breadcrumbs seasoned with a little salt and pepper.

Meanwhile, break the cauliflower into small florets. Dip each floret in the egg, letting any excess fall back into the bowl. Then dip in the breadcrumbs, turning the floret until it is completely coated. Place the breaded cauliflower on a baking sheet lined with tinfoil and lightly coated with cooking spray (for easy clean-up).

Bake at 400 degrees for 15 minutes; turn the florets over; bake another 10 minutes; remove from the oven. Either top with the tapenade or serve it on the side. It’s best eaten right away while it’s hot and crunchy.

Citrus Crisis

Southern Californians (which now includes me) complain a lot about the weather. If you’re not within 100 mile radius of the 90201 zip code, this probably strikes you as ironic. The problem is that the weather here is always so beautiful that when it gets down to 58 degrees, the scarves and gloves come out and everyone starts grumbling about the cold. Unfortunately for many of California’s citrus farmers, the actual freezing temperatures we have experienced here lately have been truly detrimental.

At the farmers’ market this past Sunday, one farmer told us that many of her blood orange trees might not ever produce fruit because they are too young to withstand the cold. Another told us that in the nine years he has been farming, he has never seen such a prolonged cold snap. We heard several similar stories, and what struck us was how stoic these farmers were in the face of adversity. They didn’t complain or feel sorry for themselves; they simply related the depressing facts to us. Unbelievably, one farmer whose Cara Cara oranges we have mailed home to Rhode Island on many occasions was actually apologetic that his fruit wasn’t as good as last years, as if he could possibly control the weather.

When I started to express my sympathy for his misfortune, he gently rebuffed me: “Please don’t feel bad for me. This is the life of a farmer. It’s what I do.” I stopped. I didn’t know what else to say. His eyes were so sincere, his body language so sure. Instead of saying anything else, I simply tossed a few more oranges in my bag and asked him to tally me up. With a wide grin, he added, “Let me know how your family in Rhode Island likes them.” “I will,” I assured him.

Living here has allowed us to not only buy fresh produce but to also become friendly with many of the farmers. So, the concept of “buying local” resonates with us more now than ever. I can honestly say that preparing and eating the food from these wonderful people makes meals much more meaningful to us. Let’s sincerely hope that this cold weather ends soon.

Since many of the farmers told us to buy more oranges now in case their future pickings are limited, we ended up with several bags (some will stay here; some are en route to Rhode Island, as you can see).

This simple Sicilian salad is one of our favorites. I used Cara Cara oranges for this one. These super sweeties look like an ordinary naval orange on the outside, but when you slice them, they reveal a red, juicy flesh the color of a Jolly Rancher watermelon candy. Their sweetness contrasts perfectly with the salty olives and licorice flavored fennel.

SICILIAN SALAD of FENNEL, ORANGES, and OLIVES
Makes 4 servings
Print recipe only here.

2 large cara-cara oranges or naval oranges
1 fennel bulb, thinly sliced
10-12 black and green cured olives, halved (I like Kalamata and Cerignola)
A handful of fresh mint leaves
Coarse sea salt
1 Tbsp quality extra virgin olive oil*

Peel oranges, and cut into pinwheels. Arrange orange and fennel slices; drizzle with olive oil; add mint leaves and coarse salt.

*Olive Oil: My favorite olive oil is from a local olive grove, Cook and Ladder. I also like going to Italian markets where knowledgeable staff helps me with my selection. Sometimes they even offer a complimentary tasting, which itself makes the trip worthwhile.