Dessert Is Important, or What Have You Done For Those People--Right Over There--Lately?

“What’s for dessert?” I asked the teacher at the ethnic foods cooking class.

“We won’t be making dessert,” she said.  “I don’t care for it.”

* * *

Someone once asked Miss Manners what to do when people are rude, which were the best words to use?  Miss Manners wasn’t biting.  She said that actually, you shouldn’t say anything. The person who corrects another person is rude.

“But people need to know what they’re doing wrong!  They need to know what people are thinking!” said the person, wondering if perhaps Miss Manners had lost her touch.

Au contraire, said Miss Manners.  “You really don’t want to know what people are thinking.  Because many times they are thinking you are a fool.”

* * *

One of the tellers at the bank told me that this year she had given up Facebook, Twitter, and something else I’ve forgotten for Lent.  45 days.  I know how she feels.  I’m off chametz (wheat, oats, rye, barley, and spelt) for Passover.  I’ve been observing that aspect of the holiday for a few years now.  The first year, I said to a rabbi I know, “I’ve been thinking, ‘Well, I won’t really miss it, I don’t eat that much bread anyway.’  But then I thought, ‘Maybe you’re supposed to notice it.’”

She laughed.  “Good, Laynie,” she said.

* * * 

Somewhere I read that it’s a good idea to do a thing or two each day that you don’t want to do, just for exercise.  (For example, that cooking teacher—never mind.) 

So, right now, I'd like to go to bed.  But I promised Jason, who is also off chametz this week, that I would give him a salad recipe.  (Matzo has an interesting effect on the digestive tract.)  And I promised Beth, who gave me a ride home from a party even though it was absolutely not on her way, that I would give her this very recipe before blood orange season was over, and Cindy, who brought Meyer lemons from her own tree to my singing class, that I would give her a version of this recipe without blood oranges, which her partner hates. 

Do It Anyway, Honey, Salad (serves 2—maybe you and that cutie?)

For the salad:

A healthy handful of baby Swiss chard
   (or cut up regular Swiss chard into small pieces)
A purple mustard green or two, including the stem, which is just heaven
   —watery, like celery, but with a kick
Fennel top (usually called the “frond”—looks like dill)
One organic blood orange (unless you are Cindy, in which case, a navel)
One organic Meyer lemon

For the dressing:

2-3 teaspoons extra virgin olive oil
1 teaspoon Amoretti pomegranate balsamic vinegar*, or a good aged balsamic
Smidgen of dijon mustard**
Pinch of your favorite salt (try the Himalayan one)
Freshly-ground black pepper (not too much; the mustard green takes that role here)

Rinse greens and fennel frond.  Mince the fennel frond, and slice the Meyer lemon very thinly—you don’t need to peel it—and remove the pits.  Peel the blood orange or navel as you would to section it, reserving the peel to dry later (for the item we’re not talking about this week but next week you can find by searching on the blog for “Laynie’s Morning Miracle.” Shhh.  Don't tell anyone.  Okay.). 

Put that smidgen of lemon zest and/or mustard in the bowl, followed by the olive oil and vinegar.  Add seasonings and whisk together, then add the greens, then the blood orange, minced fennel frond, and Meyer lemon.

You’re welcome.

And now I am going to bed.

*If you are off vinegar for Passover (“Pesach”), use fresh lemon juice and an extra blood orange.
** Dijon is made with wine, but if you want to be on the safe side, substitute lemon zest for mustard during Pesach.

©2013, 2014 Laynie Tzena.

Doughnuts and Berries

Well, Bob's Donuts has done it again.

True, I had a piece of walnut bread not long after sundown--two pieces actually: one by itself, just to taste B-R-E-A-D after seven days, and the other, smothered with peanut butter because peanut butter on matzo doesn't work for me. (Almond butter, yes; peanut butter, no. Go figure.) But the real, official ending to Passover came when I moseyed over to Bob's and took the first bite of a glazed buttermilk doughnut that had come out minutes earlier, followed by an old-fashioned doughnut I literally watched the guy pull out of the fryer. If you listen closely, you just might be able to hear the sound of my arteries hardening.

My father, rest in peace, was a radiologist, and from him I inherited two things: medical handwriting and an affection for sweets. I loved helping him file X-ray films at the office. They were huge and wobbly then, and I soon learned it might be better to avoid having your name start with "M" or "S" because there were so many people in the same condition.

Dad would say he was going out for a minute and you knew he was back when the most heavenly smell wafted through the office as he strode into the kitchen, probably whistling, carrying a box of doughnuts fresh from Canelli's and still warm.

Among my favorites was one we called the "Persian." From the descriptions I've read recently it sounds more like a "Pershing." Out here they're called cinnamon rolls, and Bob's are the closest to Canelli's I have found. Unfortunately, cinnamon rolls are made at 1:30 in the morning and since I'm usually chatting with the Sandman at that time I buy them out of the case and heat them up in the oven.

Albion strawberries from Yerena Farms were a big hit at my French group today, especially when I told them the farmer's name was Apollinaire (Poli, for short). Try not to eat the whole basket at one sitting or, if you can't resist, buy an extra basket for this salad:

Strawberry-Chicory Salad with Red Wine Vinaigrette:

For the salad:

1 basket of strawberries
Mixture of chicories: radicchio, endive, etc.
2-3 leaves of mustard greens

For the dressing:

5T extra virgin olive oil or walnut oil or half of each
2T good red wine vinegar*
Smidgen of dijon mustard
Pinch kosher salt or sea salt
Pinch coarsely-ground black pepper

Rinse and drain the greens; tear into pieces. Rinse and slice the strawberries. Whisk the oil(s), vinegar and mustard together with salt and pepper, add the salad and toss. Now add the strawberries, toss again, and serve.

*Most of the red wine vinegar you find at the store is best left there. Kimberley Cabernet Sauvignon vinegar is delicious. I recommend this vinegar so often I should have stock in the company. Yes, it's $5 or 6 a bottle instead of $2 or 3, but a) one taste of it and you'll never go back; b) that's just one less mocha wah-wah latte a month. And the vinegar will last you more than a month--unless you take to drinking it by the glass, in which case just drink twice as much oil, eat some lettuce, and call yourself a salad.

©2009, 2011, 2013, 2014 Laynie Tzena.