174. Dandelion Salad with Warm Pecan Vinaigrette (p. 137)

There's been a lot of talk lately about the benefits of locally-produced food. Heck, they just added the word "locavore" to the dictionary. And while the jury's still out on the environmental superiority of local food, I still prefer to buy local whenever I can. First, I like to support local small businesses. Next, there's something to be said for knowing the people who make your food and where it comes from. Finally, local food is fresh and in season, it has to be, and that means that it tastes better, which really makes all the difference.

Some people have taken the "eat local" movement to the extreme, like Barbara Kingsolver, whose Animal, Vegetable, Miracle chronicles her family's year of eating only food they produced themselves or obtained from local producers. I loved the book, but I can't bring myself to follow in her footsteps all the way. (I'm sorry, but I just can't give up bananas and oranges. Import the stuff that's worth importing, I say.) And I don't have the space, sun, or time to grow my own vegetables. But, I still do what I can to eat more locally-produced food. I patronize my local food producers, Mann Orchards and Raymond's Turkey Farm. I visit the Manchester Farmers' Market near my office. And this year, I'm participating in a CSA.

If you haven't heard, CSA or "community supported agriculture" is an agricultural business model in which people purchase "shares" of a local farm's seasonal production. Each week during the growing season, the CSA members get a box full of whatever's growing on the farm. The CSA members share in the risks and rewards of the farm. The amount and variety of the produce in the week's box will depend on factors like weather and pests. CSAs have grown in popularity in the last couple of years, and in my area, there are many to choose from. Local Harvest is a good source for information on finding CSAs near you.

My CSA share is arleady paying dividends for The Project. Some of the ingredients called for in The Book are hard to find in the grocery store. In the first two weeks of the growing season, my CSA share has given me two such ingredients: purslane (watch for the post coming soon), and the dandelion greens I needed for this recipe.*

First, I washed the dandelion greens, trimmed off any thick stalks and chopped them into large, bite-sized pieces and put them in a bowl. Then I cooked some chopped garlic and chopped pecans in some olive oil, stirring until the garlic was golden. I stirred in some balsamic vinegar, salt and pepper, and drizzled the hot dressing over the greens.

This was a delicious salad. The greens were crisp and fresh with a nice peppery bite, but not at all bitter. The dressing was excellent. The nuts and balsamic vinegar gave the dressing a nice sweetness and depth. The garlic was just right, fragrant but not overpowering. I also liked the interplay between the cold greens and the warm dressing.

Date Cooked: July 3, 2009
Degree of Difficulty: Easy
Rating: A-

*The recipe on epicurious.com is very similar to the one in The Book, but it uses hazelnuts instead of pecans.

121. Artichokes with Garlic Pimento Vinaigrette (p. 519)

A little while ago, when I blogged about Asparagus with Tarragon Sherry Vinaigrette I said that it was exactly the kind of dish that I'd make if I ever had a fancy dinner party where one would serve a "first course." This recipe* is another contender. Just like the asparagus dish, this artichoke dish is elegant, delicious and can be made in advance.

As elegant as this dish looks on the plate, there's no way to look sophisticated and highfalutin while you're eating it, and when you're done, your plate looks like you've just finished ripping an armadillo apart. But, every now and then it's great to have a little fun with your food and not take yourself so seriously. Come to think of it, a lot of "fancy" foods are pretty messy to eat and require a little bit of disassembly: lobster, oysters, escargots, what else?

To make this dish, I cut the stem and top half-inch off the artichoke. I clipped the pointy tips off the outer leaves with some kitchen shears. I scooped out the choke with a spoon, and rubbed lemon juice on all of the cut edges. Then I boiled the artichokes in some salted water for a little while. When they were done, I transferred them to a bowl of ice water to stop the cooking. Finally, I drained them upside-down on a baking sheet lined with a clean kitchen towel.

While the artichokes drained, I made the vinaigrette. First, with the side of a heavy chef's knife, I mashed some garlic and Kosher salt together into a paste. I whisked this together with some white wine vinegar, olive oil, chopped bottled pimentos and chopped parsley.

To serve, I put an artichoke on a plate and drizzled the vinaigrette over and around the artichoke. That's it. And the taste? I really like artichokes ... always have. They have a very unique flavor that I really can't describe. Kind of lemony, kind of sweet, and maybe a little peppery. The vinaigrette was perfectly suited to this dish. It was substantial, and that pimento gave it a nice sweet flavor. This somewhat heavy vinaigrette wouldn't work on a light salad, but it could also be used on green beans or raw spinach.

The Book intends for this recipe to be made using those big, giant globe artichokes, one per person. I used baby artichokes to make this recipe, and we ate them two at a time. They worked out just fine, but if I had it to do over again, I'd use the big ones. The babies don't have the big nasty choke and the prickly points that the big ones do, but there isn't as much meat on the leaves, and the tiny baby artichoke hearts left me wanting more.

Date Cooked: March 1. 2009
Degree of Difficulty: Easy
Rating: A-

*The recipe on epicurious.com has the cook, and not the diner, do all of the heavy lifting in terms of disassembling the artichoke.

113. Asparagus with Tarragon Sherry Vinaigrette (p. 520)

I've never had the kind of fancy dinner party where the host serves a "first course." But I will, and when I do, I'm going to serve this recipe, or something like it.

This dish is elegant, delicious, and best of all, it's pretty easy to make and can be done ahead of time. Basically, it's poached asparagus, served cold with a light vinaigrette and garnished with some grated hard-boiled egg.

The notes in The Book say that recipes like this were a mainstay on the menus of the grand hotels in a bygone era. A dish like this would have been called by the poetic name "Asparagus Mimosa" because the fluffy grated hard-boil eggs resemble mimosa blossoms.

Like I said, the preparation couldn't be easier, and so the taste return on the minimal time investment is pretty good. All you do is poach the asparagus for a few minutes in some boiling water and then plunge it into some icy water to stop the cooking. I cooked mine for just a minute longer than I should have, so even though it was a bit softer than I wanted it, it was still vibrantly green and flavorful.

While the asparagus cooled, I whisked together the vinaigrette of minced shallots, olive oil, sherry vinegar and a healthy helping of chopped fresh tarragon. I tossed the asparagus with a little bit of the dressing just to coat it, and then I served it by putting some of the asparagus on a plate, drizzling on a bit more of the dressing and topping it off with some grated hard-boiled egg. (I used The Book's fool-proof method for hard boiling an egg to produce a perfetly-set egg with a vibrantly yellow yolk and not a trace of green. Check it out.)

This was a really delicious dish. The interplay of the crunchy asparagus (I imagined what the asparagus would have tasted like if I hadn't overcooked it) with the fluffy cloud of grated egg was nice. The flavor of the vinaigrette was excellent, and could easily be put to use in a variety of other chicken or egg dishes. Tarragon (also called "dragon herb," who knew?) is one of the most singular and nearly indescribable flavors. It's also one of my favorites.

Believe it or not, this dish even stood up reasonably well to a few days of refrigeration (each of the elements stored in its own container).

Date Cooked: February 15, 2009
Degree of Difficulty: Easy
Rating: A-

93. Parmesan Balsmic Vinaigrette (p. 172)

I wanted to make a dinner out of the Potato Latkes I made a few weeks ago. So, I threw together a salad and made this recipe* for dressing to go with it.

This is a great basic, go-to vinaigrette that I'm glad to have in my arsenal. It uses mostly pantry items and things that I usually have on hand anyway, so I can make it anytime I want a salad and don't have any dressing.

I started by mashing together some garlic and salt with the side of a heavy chef's knife. (I probably could have done this with my mortar and pestal, too.) Then I whisked together the garlic-salt paste with some balsamic vinegar, lemon juice, grated Parmigiano-Reggiano, salt, pepper and a some minced fresh basil. Finally, I whisked in some olive oil in a slow stream until it was well blended.

I put the dressing on a salad of Romaine, grape tomatoes, cucumbers and some baked, breaded chicken. Yes, they are Short Cuts. Don't judge me. They're quick and they're good.

Date Cooked: December 20, 2008
Degree of Difficulty: Easy
Rating: A-

* This recipe is not on epicurious.com.

28. Lime Molasses Vinaigrette (p. 171)

I decided to make a salad to go with my Watermelon Gazpacho, because, as I was reminded by my Mango-Spacho experience, by itself, "Soup is not a meal, Jerry."

I came across this vinaigrette in the salads section of The Book, and it looked light and interesting. The combo of molasses and lime isn't something that I'd ever seen before, and I was intrigued.

The vinaigrette comes together very easily. You just whisk together some molasses, lime juice and Tobasco in a bowl. Then you quickly cook some chopped scallions in some oil and then whisk that into the other ingredients. The vinaigrette is meant to be served warm or at room temperature.

I poured the dressing over sliced grilled chicken on a bed of mixed greens (bagged, don't judge), cucumbers and grape tomatoes. I really liked this dressing. Each of the components remained pretty distinct, so you got the sweet smokiness of the molasses, cut with the acidity of the lime and the heat from the Tobasco. Overall, it was a nice change from the usual vinaigrette.

Date Cooked: July 20, 2008
Degree of Difficulty: Easy
Rating: B+

10. Basic French Vinaigrette (p. 168)

There's not too much to say about this one, it's salad dressing after all.

I wanted to serve something with the Eggplant Pizza, and I figured that a salad would be just the thing. Not wanting to miss an opportunity to check off a recipe for The Project (after all, I've still got more than a thousand to go) I went to The Book to check out what it had for dressings.

This recipe is exactly what it says it is: Basic French Vinaigrette. Vinaigrette is one of those things that most cooks seem to just "know" how to make, and everyone's formula is a little bit different. The Book's acid to oil ratio is 2 tablespoons to 1/3 cup. My wife makes a similar vinaigrette all the time, but her formula is heavier on the vinegar and lighter on the oil.

The Book gives the option of using either white wine vinegar or lemon juice as the acid. I chose lemon, which gave it a nice kick. The Dijon mustard is also a key element.

All in all, this is a good basic recipe to have in the arsenal. The vinaigrette isn't very photogenic on its own (see photo to the left), so the photo above is of the salad dressed with the vinaigrette.

Date Cooked: June 22, 2008
Degree of Difficulty: Very Easy
Rating: B