It’s a week of salad days. Yesterday I had a salad full of delicious legumes, seeds, and veggies for lunch, and today I had something entirely different. It was a salad bursting with the sweetness and vibrant colour of midsummer, featuring everything from golden beets to sweet corn.
When I was cutting up the golden beet skins they looked almost like shiitake mushrooms:
Into the quart container went the golden beet skins, sliced broccoli, the last of my cute butter lettuce, chiffonade sorrel and basil, sticks of kohlrabi, pale yellow sweet corn (my first of the season!), minced lemon peel, pepitas, and dried apricot. A dousing of olive oil and a sprinkling of flor de sal from Portugal at the office today and I was in business.
It was even more sweet and flavourful than I was expecting. The beets had been roasted at the restaurant and I had saved the skins for my own use; they had been marinating in their own syrupy juices in the fridge for good week, soaking up all that carmelised, oven-charred flavour and softening up with the liquid. The corn, on the other hand, was bright and fresh, popping in the mouth pleasantly, with a fragrancy that only fresh raw corn has, something not quite fruit nor vegetable. They were a perfect pairing, cemented into a wondrous trifecta with the addition of tiny slivers of a dried apricot. Add to that a fistful of puckery sorrel and a balmy palm of basil, and the sweet-sour-aromatic index flew off the charts.
It reminds me of sedimentary layers in the earth. If there was a planet of salad! Can you imagine?
Because I can’t eat anything without turning it into a tartine. Bad habit.
We also shared the cantaloupe I bought at market last week. It was succulent and nectarly flavourful.