chard salad with feta and capers

Ever since I said that salad doesn't make me go gaga, well –

Salad has made me go gaga.

Here's the latest installment: chard salad with feta and capers.

We were lucky enough to eat it a couple weeks ago at our favourite old lunch spot in Victoria, the Parsonage.

Now, I know that everything the Parsonage makes is divine, but I only ordered it because I thought it would balance out my Island ham and cheddar croissant and Scott's gluten-free reuben.

Man, did it ever. We were sitting at a little table out front and had to use all our restraint not to eat each other's portion. We were sharing just a little side salad, and Scott was soon heading back in to order a full serving. Then he was pretty disappointed when I wanted more than a few bites of that big bowl of salad.

That settled it. After we finished, I crossed my fingers and asked one of the Parsonage's friendly chefs how to make such a good chard salad. And he told me: local chard, capers, feta, olive oil, red wine vinegar, salt and pepper.

That, I could do. When we got home, Scott found local chard at the farmers' market and I set about mixing it up. And then I understood why the Parsonage makes it: this salad gets better over the course of the day. And night.

Sure, it was good with our Sunday lunch . . . but it was even better in my lunch the next day. The chard is tender enough to eat immediately – although you wouldn't mistake it for young lettuce – but it gets more tender and flavourful the longer the dressing is on it. The feta and capers are brilliant with the chard, and it is altogether beautiful with little bits of the rainbow running through it.

Dear Parsonage, I wish we lived closer and I could eat your sandwiches every week.

one year ago: three-nuts chocolate torte
two years ago: 27 hours in saskatoon and homemade ricotta cheese
three years ago: quince almond cake and roasted beet risotto
four years ago: pear ginger jam

chard salad with feta and capers
inspiration and ingredients via the parsonage, proportions are my best guess
this is a relaxed salad – i really don't think you need to measure

about 6 stalks rainbow chard or kale*
1 tbsp. red wine vinegar
1/8 tsp. fine sea salt
ground pepper
3 tbsp. olive oil
1 garlic clove, minced
1 tbsp. + 1 tbsp. capers
2/3 c. feta cheese, crumbled

Prepare the chard by cutting out the tough coloured stalks that run down the centre. Line the leaves up and cut them into bite-sized ribbons. Set aside.

Whisk the red wine vinegar, sea salt and ground pepper together. Whisk in the olive oil slowly. Roughly chop 1 tablespoon of capers. Add these capers and the garlic to the dressing and mix well. Toss about three-quarters of the dressing with the prepared chard. Add the other 1 tablespoon of whole capers and feta and mix well. Taste and decide if you need the rest of the dressing, or more salt and pepper.

May be eaten immediately or any time in the next couple days. Store in the fridge.

*If using kale, you might want to massage the dressing into the leaves to soften them somewhat.

ode to victoria

Heidi's lemon poundcake

This is it.

Tomorrow, we cross the border from British Columbia to Alberta and start a new life.

We've been in a kind of summer vacation/limbo land for the past week and half, with visits to family outside of Vancouver and in Kelowna. We've made it half-way across the province, and now – and only now – it's sinking in that we're leaving so much behind in Victoria.

Last lunch at home in Victoria. Note the deluxe packing paper placemat.

I will miss Saturday mornings in Victoria. Going to ballet class* and then walking half a block to Habit, where I would look through the big glass windows and spot Scott reading the Saturday Globe. I would stare at him intently and wave madly and he wouldn't notice me at all. (This might be best, as I intend to stare and wave for the rest of our lives and this is probably a good coping mechanism. I have no shame.)

Then I would walk a couple of blocks in the other direction to Italian Food Imports to pick up tallegio and olives and rosemary ham for lunch. Oh, and one slice of provolone to snack on. (Scott says my favourite saying is: "Mmm. That was a good snack.")

Or, if we were feeling adventurous, I would pick up my husband and a chai tea to go at Habit, hop in the car (hopefully before we got a parking ticket), and drive out to Sooke to eat lunch at the Edge. Scott always got a deconstructed hamburger and I cycled through the other hot sandwiches: smoked tuna melt, housemade salami, you get the idea.

In a typical Victoria forest: Garry oaks, arbutus, big leaf maples

Then, we'd go for a walk on the boardwalk over Sooke Harbour and watch the crabbers. Sometimes, we'd drive a bit further to scramble along the rocky shores at East Sooke Park.

Some Saturday afternoons, I would meet my friends Heidi and Margot for afternoon tea – at the White Heather or, if we were very lucky, in Heidi's backyard.

And I will miss Sunday afternoons in Victoria. Packing a water bottle and snacks and driving 20 minutes in any direction to get completely out of the city and up a mountain or down to the water.

We'd often pick a hike near Smyth's farm, so we could pick up loganberries and leeks and corn and apple-pears and catch up with farmer Brett.

Shiro plums from Brett's farm

During the week, I will miss the rare morning when I could make my way to Fol Epi and Caffé Fantastico in Dockside Green. Sitting out on the patio and sipping Option B tea while I watched giant excavators move gravel from pile to pile along the inner harbour. Trying to slowly eat the very best pain au chocolat in the world. (I have not been to France and eaten pain au chocolat there. But I am confident Fol Epi would still have the best pain au chocolat. With fair-trade chocolate, no less.)

And lunch: I will miss going to Pure Vanilla with friends from work and trying to read the chalkboard menu while keeping an eagle eye for a table to open up.

Swartz Bay

Or going downtown for lunch at Relish. My friend Jenn introduced me to the crispy chicken bowl at Relish on the Thursday before we moved . . . But I still managed to get back there on our very last day in Victoria. I had the crispy chicken again because once you've tried it, it's hard to try anything else – even though the other parts of the menu did look intriguing.

And finally, I will miss the sweet, tucked-away Parsonage where it smells like fresh coffee and bacon frying, and the orange-date muffins are always warm out of the oven.

Victoria, I will miss you.

A ferry ride away

*Lest you think I'm a prima ballerina . . . I am very comfortable in the beginner ballet class. So much so that I've taken it more times than I would like to number on a public blog.

one year ago: pan-fried salmon with sugar and salt rub
two years ago: black & blue scotch berries and plant yourself some garlic (Edmontonians – how do you grow garlic?)