What Makes an Ottolenghi Salad? 🌞

[justaprogressive]

Part 1: Choose one hero ingredient and let it lead the way

My idea of a salad is pretty different from others.

To most, what comes to mind when they hear ‘salad’ is something light and fresh that is thrown together without too much thought or deep intention. Greek salad, lettuce salad, cob salad... that kind of thing.

Those are definitely salads, of course, but the first thing that comes to my mind is something much more structured and considered. It also needs to be heftier and sturdy; it can’t wilt as soon as it’s dressed or weep when you sprinkle it with salt.

Don’t get me wrong, this idea of a salad doesn’t come out of some lofty culinary principles (I love all types of salad), but from very commercial and practical considerations to do with the way we display vegetables in our London delis.

For many years now, the team and I have been perfecting the way we present cooked vegetables (and legumes and grains) - i.e. salads - to make them look and taste great when they sit on our display (“They must smile”, Cornelia says). We want them to appear fresh yet complex, they need to be substantial to make a meal, and they must transport easily in takeaway boxes without turning into mush.

This may sound a bit goal orientated, but it really informs the way I see a salad: a platter loaded with vegetables, sitting proudly amongst lots of other good-looking salads, ready to be handed over to a customer. It also makes a great display for a weekend brunch at home.

And yet, there is so much more to it.

Over the next few weeks, I want to break down the question ‘What makes an Ottolenghi salad?’ properly - my three-step train of thought when building a salad. First, choose your hero ingredient. Then, think about contrasts and layers (in two weeks). And finally, generosity - how we plate and present (the week after).

I'll be sharing six new salad recipes over the coming weeks (with a brief break to share a few Father’s Day ideas for those celebrating). All the salads are vegetarian, some built from large wedges of vegetables, others from grains, and some dips and veggie smooshes.

But let's start where I always do: your hero ingredient.

Benevolent dictatorship

***[b"']Fuchsia Dunlop has a great line about ordering in Chinese restaurants - how a “benevolent dictatorship is always best.” If individual diners are left to their own devices, you'll end up with three sweet-and-sour dishes. A good meal needs one person to take charge, to think about balance (In my group of friends, this person is Sarit Packer of Honey & Co fame).

I think about salads the same way. You see, so many salads that are very democratic - everything chopped to regulation size, tossed together with equal representation. Very polite, very fair, very same-same."

Example:

TOMATO AND POMEGRANATE SALAD

SERVES FOUR

I rarely rave about my own recipes, but this is one I can just go on
and on about. It is the definition of freshness with its sweet-and-sour
late-summer flavors, and it is also an utter delight to look at. But the
most incredible thing about it is that it uses a few ingredients
that I have been lovingly cooking with for many years, and believed I
knew everything there was to know about, yet had never thought of
mixing them in such a way. That is, until I traveled to Istanbul and
came across a similar combination of fresh tomatoes and
pomegranate seeds in a famous local kebab restaurant called Hamdi,
right by the Spice Bazaar. It was a proper light-bulb moment when I
realized how the two types of sweetness—the sharp, almost bitter
sweetness of pomegranate and the savory, sunny
sweetness of tomato—can complement each other so gloriously.
I use four types of tomato here to make the salad more interesting
visually and in flavor. You can easily use fewer, just as long as they are
ripe and sweet.

1⅓ cups/200 g red cherry tomatoes, cut into ¼-inch/5-mm dice
1⅓ cups/200 g yellow cherry tomatoes, cut into ¼-inch/5-mm dice
1⅓ cups/200 g tiger or plum tomatoes, cut into ¼-inch/5-mm dice
about 1 lb/500 g medium slicing tomatoes (about 5), cut into ¼-inch/5-mm dice
1 red pepper, cut into ¼-inch/5-mm dice (1 cup/120 g)
1 small red onion, finely diced (rounded ¾ cup/120 g)
2 cloves garlic, crushed
½ tsp ground allspice
2 tsp white wine vinegar
1½ tbsp pomegranate molasses
¼ cup/60 ml olive oil, plus extra to finish
1 large pomegranate, seeds removed (1 cup/170 g seeds)
1 tbsp small oregano leaves
salt

Mix together all the tomatoes, the red pepper, and the onion in a large bowl
and set aside. In a small bowl, whisk together the garlic, allspice, vinegar,
pomegranate molasses, olive oil, and a scant ½ teaspoon salt until well
combined. Pour this over the tomato mixture and gently mix.

Arrange the tomato mixture and its juices on a large, flat plate. Sprinkle
the pomegranate seeds and oregano over the top. Finish with a drizzle
of olive oil and serve.

from "Plenty More"
https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/20691056-plenty-more

Enjoy!


***Remember Fuschia Dunlop?
https://www.democraticunderground.com/1157150596

[NJCher]

1. you've made me a happy girl this morning!

I've bought my share of Ottolenghi's cookbooks, but not for myself. I had a friend of little means who only wanted to cook his recipes, so around birthday time I'd start getting hints, and so would her other friends. She has the full complement of his cookbooks now.

I checked out both Fuschia Dunlop's eggplant recipe and the tomato pomegranate one from Ottolenghi and that's on my menu for the day.

Fortunately I just received a nice supply of Japanese eggplants from a union friend.