What a Little Minneola Can Do, Part Two

Complete This Sentence: _______ is the Spice of Life.

A few years ago I was introduced to the Santa Rosa plum. We hit it off immediately.

What I love about the Santa Rosa plum is that it's not just sweet. It has sweetness, to be sure, but its flavor is also deep, full-bodied.

And the kumquat! I'd only seen kumquats on the edges of plates, looking pretty, but one day I was curious and bit into one. Yowza! The outside is sweet, the inside, tart. It's a vacation for your mouth.

Food surprises you. The best artists do that. Like some of my favorite musicians--Bela Fleck, for example--who don't just play one kind of music. Check out what Mark O'Connor is doing for music education: teaching kids to play violin in all different genres, from Day One of their studies. Hats off! That's what'll save us in the end: the people who can see there's more than one way to do things, more than one way to see things.

And what's the best laboratory for this experiment, this question of, "What else tastes good to me? And what do I mean by 'tasting good'? What else could I try?"

Where did I taste my first Santa Rosa plum?

The farmers' market.

No, I don't get a commission. As I may have mentioned, life is unfair.

But come to think of it, my commission is the opportunity to taste, week after week, all over town, flavors I've never tasted before (along with some old favorites).

Tasting blackberries last year, the tartness of some didn't seem odd or wrong, something to be rejected, but just a different flavor--a different note on the scale, you could say.

Fast forward to the other night. I wanted a nosh. Had a minneola in the fruit bin. Cut it open, and boy, was that tart! (It was probably following a cookie. And I later remembered minneolas come from a mixed marriage and looked it up: half grapefruit.) But my first thought, after "What?" was "That's a really bright flavor." And I started thinking of ways to use it.

So back to your orange. Taste it. Is this really a bad orange, or just an orange that's heavier on texture than juice?

Let's assume this orange is a fleshy orange. Use it. Work it. We all know how to highlight the best qualities in something and camouflage the less-than-fabulous. Women do it with makeup. Men do it with facial hair.

Next time: Where Does Salad Dressing Come From?

©2010, 2014, 2015 Laynie Tzena.

What a Little Minneola Can Do: A Hymn in Three Parts

Hello, Gorgeous!

Tragedy has struck. The orange you've just sliced open is a bit dry. I see someone reaching for it and heading to the garbage.

But what's this? At the last minute, the orange is rescued. Because the cook (that's you, standing at the sink or in front of your refrigerator, making decisions) realized that that is the absolute perfect orange--for a different dish.

I came to understand this last year when I had some romano beans that were a bit down on their luck. End of the season. Kind of dry.

Suddenly I saw my tall, good-looking blender, and realized that romano beans + some of the water from steaming them (excuse me, "vegetable broth") + sauteed onions and garlic . . .

The same texture that made the beans less than thrilling on their own gave the soup a wonderful body. The new soup was like split pea on steroids. I can't wait to make it again.

But the credit really goes to the Santa Rosa plum. And the kumquat.

Stay tuned.

Next Time: A Vacation for Your Mouth, or What Is This, Anyway?

©2010, 2014, 2015 Laynie Tzena.

Try the House Salad

Well, it certainly has been a while. Let me be the first one today to wish you a Happy New Year. And do remind me to tell you about the Fancy Food Show. (For starters: I am still madly in love with Santander chocolate. And Charles Chocolates' almonds. I could eat them for days. And I have a new love, Harry London, including their flavored chocolate. I am usually eager to avoid flavored chocolate, but I brake for their raspberry dark chocolate. Plus, while I've loved Valrhona for years, I just discovered a little item of theirs called Guanaja [which is apparently how you say "heaven" in el idioma de la comida]).

In the meantime, the tatsoi at Heirloom Organics was irresistible yesterday at the market, and after talking with Mary about something she had tasted with a green that sounds like kamasutra and was served with gomasio and bonito flakes and something else I can't remember, I suddenly saw a salad in my head with sesame oil, tatsoi, and tangerines.

Of course the sesame oil has vanished and even though I love tangerines deeply, the navel oranges are simply amazing right about now and so the original plan went sailing out the window and we have something even better.

Tatsoi Salad with Oranges and Sherry-Walnut Vinaigrette:

For the salad:

Healthy handful of tatsoi (about the size of a head of romaine or butter lettuce)
1/2 orange
1/4 Shallot, 1 scallion, or equivalent amount of red onion (optional)

For the dressing:

2-3 teaspoons walnut oil
1 teaspoon sherry vinegar
Pinch stoneground mustard
Black pepper
Pinch of salt

For extra credit:

Sesame seeds (This did start out as a sesame salad, after all.)

Rinse and drain tatsoi. Slice oranges and remove peel and white pith. Mince onion of choice. Whisk together dressing ingredients. Add tatsoi and other salad ingredients and toss. Top with toasted sesame seeds.

If you have cold chicken on hand, add that to the salad before tossing it and topping it with the sesame seeds. If you don't have cold chicken on hand, invite a friend over and ask her to bring the chicken. (It's only fair, after all you've done for her.)

©2010, 2014 Laynie Tzena.