Perfect early summer farm to table salads

It's time to start weaning ourselves from all the lettuce that got us through the cooler months and move on to crisp, colorful summer vegetable salads like the superb panzanella when tomatoes and basil finally arrive and Middle Eastern fattoush, best described perhaps as a cross between Greek salad and Italian panzanella, or perhaps just described as absolutely delicious due to the delight of its different tastes (think mint against onion and salty olives against tomato). I think of it as a farewell to lettuce because there's still plenty in my American version recipe below.

My American Fattoush
Serves 4

2 sm pita breads, split, with each piece cut into 6 triangles

 1 head Romaine lettuce, washed and shredded

1 handful fresh arugula, washed and stemmed

1 bunch cilantro, leaves only chopped

4 sprigs fresh mint, leaves only minced

6 sprigs flat leaf parsley, leaves only coarsely chopped

8-10 cherry tomatoes, washed and thinly sliced

6 pitted Kalamata or similar olives, thinly sliced

1 small red onion, peeled and cut into thin rings, then cut rings in half to make strings

3-4 oz fresh Feta, crumbled or cut into small pieces

2-3 Persian cucumbers or 1 sm English cucumber, peeled, seeded, quartered and chopped

Salt to taste (remember olives and feta can be salty)

Put pita on a baking sheet and bake at 350º until crisp and dry. Cool and break into smaller pieces.

 (BTW: You can totally leave out the bread and nobody will notice anything wrong.)

Toss all ingredients together in a large salad bowl.

Dressing:

1 clove garlic mashed

¼ tsp ground cumin

juice of ½ lg lemon

½ cup olive oil

Freshly ground black pepper

Last Friday night, as "guest chef" for a fundraising farm to table dinner that required using only what came from a local farm, I created this spring into summer farm salad with local buttermilk in the dressing. It's got crunch, color and crisp tastes. Folks asked for seconds so I think it's a keeper.

Spring into Summer Salad with Buttermilk Dressing

for 4-6

1 handful arugula

2-3 handfuls crisp mesclun greens

4 lg red radishes, cleaned and very thinly sliced

4 salad/Tokyo/Hakurei (they have all those names) turnips, stems off, washed, halved and thinly sliced into half moon pieces

1 med salad cucumber, quartered and sliced

1 med carrot, cleaned and grated

Freshly ground pepper to your taste

Sea salt to your taste 

Combine all the above in a serving bowl and make the dressing. (extra stores in the fridge up to a week)

Buttermilk Dressing

for 6 probably

1½ tsp dry mustard or 1/2 tsp wet

3 tbsp seasoned rice wine vinegar

6 tbsp good quality olive oil

1/2 cup + 2 tbsp buttermilk

1 tbsp finely chopped shallot or 1 tsp minced garlic

2 tbsp chopped fresh dill

freshly ground black pepper, to taste

Combine all the above and shake to blend.

Use lightly on the salad: it goes a long way.

P.S. Now that we are approaching panzanella season, it's time to start processing our day old baguettes and rolls into those fabulous garlicky croutons it calls for. Properly baked through, they'll store in a tightly closed tin or in the fridge for a month.

Raw Power

For the past few weeks, I have been introducing people--at my house and at my talks and cooking demos--to Tokyo turnips, aka salad turnips and Hakurei turnips. These are those small white orbs that, bunched together, look like fat radishes or perhaps albino beets. I only discovered them myself two years ago when they started showing up at farmers' markets. I've not seen them in supermarkets at all.

Tokyo turnips are usually sold with their greens attached. The greens are where most of the nutrition is; they are in fact a healthful powerhouse. But the greens need to be cooked so it's best to separate them immediately from the turnips, which you can eat raw. Rinse just before using and pat dry. Last week I chopped the greens up with all the greens from a bunch of beets that I normally would have thrown out. I sauteed the mess of greens in olive oil, black pepper and garlic with a pinch of ground coriander. I served this beside roasted chicken and, frankly, there was something spiritually satisfying about knowing my body was absorbing super food for good health. Cheap food too. And to be honest, food that a year ago I would've trashed as useless. This is the joy of cooking: new discovery of old wisdom.

As for the turnips themselves, a fine source of vitamin C, so few people have ever experienced them that I've had to pass out small chunks to encourage them to taste. One bite hooks them. After all, what can be easier than just slicing something up and serving it? If the turnips are young and fresh, you don't even have to bother to peel them, unless they've sprouted root hairs. That's fast food! And a grail for those who want to join the raw craze.

These little turnips do not have pungency; like kohlabi, they are meek and mild. Normally I just slice a few turnips into my green salads, where they contribute crunch and white color. Sometimes I peel off thin slices with a peeler and combine them with thin strips of carrot and daikon, for an unusual slaw I season with salt, pepper, dill seeds and apple cider vinegar with just a splash of olive oil. This past week when a friend came for lunch, I sliced four turnips into thin disks and combined them in a bowl with fresh, crisp snow peas, also from the farmers' market. With salt and pepper, I added toasted sesame seeds and dressed the crunchy salad with just a splash of pure sesame oil. My friend loved it so much, she took home all the turnips I had left.

Two days later I did the same thing, only first I quickly stir fried the turnips and snow peas with a minced garlic clove in a bit of corn oil. This made a colorful side dish for fish. Other friends are coming soon and I'm going to make the recipe in my book, How to Fix a Leek and Other Food from Your Farmers' Market. that combines the greens with the turnips in a pretty presentation. It's really fun to turn people on to something good to eat, especially when it's cheap, fast and extremely healthy food. I'm so glad I was adventurous enough to try these turnips when I first spotted them two years ago.