Identical Cousins, or That Reminds Me

Part One: How Sweet It Is

Like most of the human race, I tend to think my noodle works pretty well. So how was it that I didn't bat an eye at Patty Duke's identical cousin? Was it just the power of that jingle?

Perhaps I accepted the notion of identical cousins so readily because I had a pretty magical childhood, in general. Far from perfect, but certainly magical. When I wasn't strolling on the roof or building houses in the eaves, I would climb down from the attic and right over there, inside that box, Jeannie would demonstrate how to travel by blinking, and Samantha worked wonders with her nose. Not to mention the Batman, Superman, the Green Hornet, Casper the Friendly Ghost, and My Favorite Martian. Identical cousins? Come on down!

Recently we had some hot days here in San Francisco, and one of them found me at the farmers' market. I asked if I could put my bag down for a minute so I could get my hair out of my face.

The fellow said fine. Then he said, "Do you want these cherries?"

"Sure," I said.

Soon I was home with two pounds of Bella Viva cherries, and two potlucks on the horizon. I started thinking about what a beautiful color those cherries were, and that got me thinking about other food in that color family, and next thing you know . . .

Hickory Dickory Chicory:

For the salad:

1 head radicchio di Chioggia (the roundish red one)
1/2 to 3/4 lb. bing or other fresh red cherries

For the dressing:

1 tablespoon plus 1 teaspoon extra virgin olive oil
1 tablespoon plus 1 teaspoon toasted walnut oil (my favorites are La Tourangelle and Glashoff)
1 tablespoon port vinegar (I love O vinegar for this; if you can't find that, sherry vinegar is fine)
Smidgen of Dijon mustard
Healthy pinch of freshly-ground black pepper
Tiny pinch of salt

Cut off the very bottom of the radicchio, and pull the leaves off the base. Rinse and pat dry, then pile the leaves one on top of the other and slice into strips. Slice strips in half and set aside.

Rinse the cherries. If you have a cherry-pitter, this would be a good time to use it. If not, you're in luck anyway, because as you slice the cherries into half-moons you have those wonderful bits of cherry that stick to the pit for a nosh. If you used the smaller amount of cherries, slice them in half again.

Whisk the oils, vinegar, mustard, and pepper together, and taste the dressing. Add salt as needed. Now add the radicchio and toss; add the cherries, toss again, and serve.

Next time: Going Green

©2010, 2011. 2015, 2016 Laynie Tzena.