asian slaw

This is Asian slaw piled on top of pulled pork, which has been piled on top a homemade (gluten-free!) bun.

It's one of those iconic summer dinners that I could eat any time of year.

The dressing for the slaw is flavoured with nutritional yeast flakes. I know, I know, that sounds too healthy to be tasty, but you just need to trust me here. You should be able to find nutritional yeast flakes in the healthy section of your grocery store. I don't even know how to describe what those little flakes do to the dressing – they make it savoury and umami and totally moreable.

Here's what one brand looks like (along with their friend the toasted sesame seed):

Otherwise, this slaw is pretty darn easy. Slice your cabbage as finely as you have patience for, grate your carrots (hopefully without grating your fingers) and toss them with cilantro and green onion. Stir in the mystery dressing, sprinkle some toasted sesame seeds and – voilà! – you're eating Asian slaw.

You don't have to pair it with pulled pork. We also like it with West Coast crab cakes and mango and fennel chutney, adapted from Whitewater Cooks. I think it would work with burgers, too, and pretty much anything you could barbecue.

I've given you proportions to make extra dressing because it is so very good. You could put it on the glory bowl or plain quinoa or cous cous or any kind of salad, just for starters . . .

P.S. Speaking of barbecues, we just got one! Very exciting times at our house. Do you have any favourite barbecue recipes to share?


one year ago: penne with sausage and greens and salmon with warm tomato basil oil
two years ago: kathleen claiborne's hotcakes and kristina's nuss kuchen
three years ago: chilli pasta and honey orange cream

asian slaw
slightly adapted from Whitewater Cooks by Shelley Adams

2 c. green cabbage, chopped finely
2 c. red cabbage, chopped finely
1 c. carrots, grated
1/2 c. cilantro, chopped
1/2 c. green onions, chopped
1 tbsp. toasted sesame seeds

dressing*
1/2 c. nutritional yeast flakes
1/3 c. water
1/3 c. tamari or soy sauce
1/3 c. apple cider vinegar
2 tbsp. tahini paste
2 cloves garlic, crushed
1/2 c. neutral oil, such as grapeseed, canola or vegetable

First, mix up the dressing. Stir the nutritional yeast flakes, water, tamari, vinegar, tahini and garlic together in a bowl. Blitz with an immersion blender until it's consistent. Then add the oil slowly and blitz it in. Set aside just over 1 cup for the slaw and put the rest in the fridge for another use.

In a big bowl that gives you lots of room to move, mix the cabbages, carrot, cilantro and green onion together. Stir in the cup of dressing. Add more to taste. Sprinkle with sesame seeds.

*You won't need all the dressing for the slaw. But it's so good that I think you'll be happy to have it around. Otherwise, halve it.

beet salad with honey-horseradish dressing

Last time I visited with you, I declared that beet fatigue* was threatening to overwhelm me. (Although beet hummus seemed to keep it at bay.)

The beet saga continues.

We were invited to a lovely Thanksgiving dinner . . . and what did I see lurking at the back of the fridge? That's right, a bag of multi-coloured beets.

So, I offered to bring a beet salad.

I boiled the beets in water that soon turned blood red and dropped them into their ice bath like pink and white and purple jewels (with tails). I cut green onions on an angle so they'd look fancy. I mixed up the honey and horseradish and garlic. I tossed it all together and –

The beet fatigue was eradicated. Just like that. Snap.

My salad was so pretty that I took the bowl in my hands and began trotting around the house after Scott. Look, I kept saying, isn't it pretty?

He would say yes and I would trot back to the kitchen and put plastic wrap on top, still marvelling at its beauty, and then I'd call him back again, showing him how pretty it was.

That's when he said with only the slightest bit exasperation: Why don't you take a picture of it?

So I did.

And now I'd like to share it with you. Isn't it pretty?**

* Beet fatigue is a more specific symptom of root vegetable fatigue. It should not be indulged until the spring greens start shooting up.

** Don't worry: it also tastes good. You can use any kinds of beets you can find, even plain old red ones.

one year ago: star anise plum jam and quince almond cake
two years ago: finally yummy brussels sprouts

beet salad with honey-horseradish dressing
from ricardo larrivée
feeds 8 - 10

about 6 large beets, unpeeled
2 tbsp. honey
2 tbsp. olive oil
2 tbsp. lemon juice
1 tbsp. creamed horseradish
1 clove garlic, finely chopped or crushed
2 tbsp. + 2 tbsp. fresh chives or green onions, chopped
salt and pepper

Bring a large pot of water to a rolling boil. Add the beets and cook until tender. This might take a while – anywhere from 20 minutes to 45 minutes. Make sure they do get tender – they should pierce easily with a sharp knife like a firm potato – because that will make a much better salad.

While the beets are cooking, prepare a big bowl with ice water. Set aside.

You can also make the dressing while the beets are cooking. In a large bowl, whisk the honey, olive oil, lemon juice, horseradish, garlic and 2 tbsp. green onion with a good amount of salt and pepper. Taste and see if you need more salt and pepper. Set aside.

When the beets are tender, drop them in the ice water to cool quickly. Drain and peel the beets. Cut them into 1-cm (1/2-inch) smiles. Toss with the dressing. Taste and see if you need more salt and pepper (again! It's important). Scatter the other 2 tbsp. of chives on top. Serve.

tarragon three-bean salad

One late Saturday afternoon in August – seven years ago now – my friend Janet picked me up at the ferry terminal at Swartz Bay, near Victoria, and took me right to our friend Caitlin's parents' house.

Now, I must tell you that Caitlin's parents live in my dream house. It's out in the country, a renovated wooden farmhouse set back from the road and surrounded by gardens and fields. Whenever I see it, it seems to have the late afternoon sun bathing it in golden light. 

At the time, I'd just moved away from Victoria to the big city of Vancouver, and was missing the Island.

Janet pulled into the driveway, gravel crunching, and we got out.

In the backyard, Caitlin had set up a little table covered with a pretty French tablecloth. We wandered inside and helped her bring out our dinner: salmon quiche and tarragon three-bean salad.

We talked and ate and caught up as the sun fell lower in the sky. I wrote down the recipes for both the salad and the quiche.

It's one of those golden memories that will always define Vancouver Island for me. The Island, it seems, always draws me back.

Indeed, after a couple of years in Vancouver – just enough time to meet and marry my leading man – and then a year in snowy Ottawa – we moved back to Victoria three years ago.

And now, we're leaving again. This time we're off to Edmonton, where Scott will start graduate studies.

I've never lived on the Prairies before and I know it will be a shock: the flat horizon stretching as far as my eye can see, the cold winters, the flat Prairie buildings, the predominance of country music. But I know there will also be so much to explore: cross-country skiing, the year-round indoor farmers' market, Saskatoon berries, the predominance of perogies.

But this bean salad will always bring me back to the Island. I've made it in Vancouver, Ottawa, Victoria and – soon – I will make it in Edmonton. The mustard dressing is light and the tarragon brings out the fresh beans' flavour, while the chickpeas give it a buttery background. It is, in short, the perfect thing to make on a late August afternoon.

If you can, eat it outside.

A note about the recipe: Caitlin says she found this in a magazine and cut it out. This many years later, she can't remember which magazine it was. She first made it for us in August 2005, which means it must have been published before that. Do you recognize it? If you remember the magazine, could you let me know? I always want to give credit where credit is due.


Last year: Tschüss, Deutschland! and German groceries
Two years ago: rosemary corn butter and peach crisp

tarragon three-bean salad
slightly adapted from an unnamed magazine clipping
makes a big bowl that serves 6 – 8

3 tbsp. dijon or German sharp mustard
2 tbsp. lemon juice
1/4 c. olive oil
3 garlic cloves, minced
1/2 tsp. table salt or 1 tsp. kosher salt
3 tbsp. fresh tarragon, chopped roughly
1 red or Spanish onion, cut into thin wedges or strips
450 g. (1 lb.) fresh green beans
450 g. (1 lb.) fresh yellow wax beans
540 g. (19 oz.) canned chickpeas, rinsed and drained

In a small bowl, whisk the mustard, lemon juice, olive oil, garlic and salt together to make a dressing. Whisk in the tarragon. Set aside.

Once the onion is cut up, put it into a mug and top it with cold water. Let it sit to mellow while you make the rest of the salad.

Bring a large pot of lightly salted water to a boil. Drop the green and wax beans in. Cook them, uncovered, until tender-crisp, about 5 minutes.

Drain the beans in a colander and rinse with cold water to stop the cooking.

Drain the onions of their water.

Mix the beans, onions and chickpeas together. Toss with the dressing. Eat!

oregon hazelnut salad

I name this salad in honour of the Oregon hazelnut.

I had been to Portland before, but our trip last week opened my eyes to the abundance of hazelnuts growing around the city. On our first day exploring the vineyards in the nearby Willamette Valley, we spotted stands of hazelnut trees nudged up to the grape vines.

I have a long history with hazelnut trees, because it was my job as a child to gather all the hazelnuts under both our trees. (Not to mention walnuts, cherries, plums, peaches, apples, raspberries and currants. I was a hardworking child.)

So, once I reacquainted myself with the hazelnut tree in the Willamette Valley, I suddenly started seeing them everywhere around Portland.

I was going to ask the rhetorical question: does Oregon have a state nut and is it the hazelnut?

But it is not a rhetorical question! I looked it up, and yes, Oregon declared the hazelnut to be its state nut in 1989. So there you go.

This means, of course, that Oregonians like to eat hazelnuts. I think we had them with almost every meal. I wasn’t complaining.

One lovely way I encountered them was in a lightly dressed salad at Tina’s in Dundee, about an hour outside of Portland. 

It was the heart of simplicity: just a few very good ingredients. In this case, roasted hazelnuts with delicate spring lettuce and a light vinaigratte. The hazelnuts gave a light crunch beside the soft new lettuce. The vinaigrette was flavourful but unassuming, with tiny bits of shallot and parmesan almost melting into the lettuce leaf.

I am starting to believe that the better the salad the smaller the ingredient list. Because, if the lettuce and one other ingredient (say, hazelnuts) are perfect, then you won’t want anything else.

This weekend, I set about recreating that salad with Island lettuce, hazelnuts, parmesan and shallots. It seems I am incapable of creating a mild vinaigrette – probably due to my deep love of vinegar – but this dressing comes close to the Tina’s version. I used an immersion blender to whir in the parmesan, but you could just grate it finely.

After eating this salad for two evenings, we ran out of spring lettuce. I am now happy to report the vinaigrette works very well dribbled over poached salmon and steamed asparagus. But I did miss the hazelnuts.

last june: behold the small white bean in ripe bean soup

oregon hazelnut salad

hazelnuts

2 tbsp. white wine vinegar (red would probably also work)

1 tbsp. olive oil

2 tbsp. neutral oil, such as canola or grapeseed

2 tbsp. parmesan, grated finely

2 tbsp. shallot, minced

salt and pepper

new lettuce

Preheat the oven to 350 degrees Fahrenheit.

Roast the hazelnuts in a small pan until they are slightly golden, about 7 minutes. Watch them carefully, as they move over to burning quickly.  Remove them from the oven. If you like, take a clean tea towel and rub them gently to take off some of their brown skin. Set aside.

Macerate the shallots in the vinegar for 15 minutes. (This will help them soften and share flavours with the vinegar.) Strain the shallots out, keeping both the vinegar and the shallots.

Mix the vinegar, oils and parmesan together. Use an immersion blender if you really want the parmesan to break down. Stir in the shallots. Taste and add salt and pepper.

When you’re ready to eat, toss the lettuce with the vinaigrette. Drop in the hazelnuts. Serve immediately.

butter lettuce for a break

It’s Christmas party season.

Holiday brunches.

Festive buffets.

Work party dinners.

A lot of good – and heavy – food.

Sometimes, I want something a tad lighter. That’s when I think of how my German Oma made salad.

Take a butter lettuce – or any green lettuce, really – and squeeze out some drops of fresh lemon juice. Sound exciting? Well, of course it’s not exciting yet.

Now for the fun part: carefully sprinkle just a bit of sugar over your salad. (Pretend it’s snow falling if you live on the West Coast and only ever see rain falling right now.) Eat.

This is not rocket science, I recognize. But it is much, much more than the sum of its parts. These three magic ingredients make a light and delicious salad that will help your stomach make room for the next Christmas treat. Das schmeckt gut!

butter lettuce salad with lemon and sugar

butter lettuce (also called Boston Bibb)

lemon, cut into sections

white sugar

Rinse and dry lettuce. Tear into bite-sized pieces. Put on plate.

Squeeze a lemon section over a serving of salad. Sprinkle sugar on top.

Eat!