Salad

Wild watercress appears sporadically in farmers’ markets, but it also grows in more places than you might think. In Seattle, it’s positively thick around Lake Washington and easy to find and pick. Whether you forage for your own or buy it from a purveyor, make sure you pick or buy more than you think you’ll need. I like to use only the very freshest tips and bits for the salad. The peppery flavor is a nice contrast to the mild, grassy flavor of the pecorino and marries well with the earthy finish of the artichokes.

This is a very grown-up salad and my idea of a fantastic lunch. It also happens to be a great way to use loins left over when you’ve braised or stewed the richer, darker pieces of your rabbit. Like pork tenderloin or filet mignon, rabbit loin can’t take that sort of cooking. Give it a quick sear instead, and toss it with crisp pancetta and frisée in a Chianti vinaigrette. You’ll find yourself making rabbit more often just to end up with spare loins.

This lovely salad can slide from late winter into early spring when bouquets of radishes proliferate in the market. Some people find endive too harsh, but here the flavor is mellowed a bit and the leaves are given extra snap by a saltwater soak. This is a study in textures, with the silky endive accented by the crunch of the nuts, all lightly bound with a tart but delicate Meyer lemon dressing. Because of the egg yolk, the vinaigrette won’t last for more than two days in the fridge, but you’ll find lots of uses for any leftover dressing. Try tossing it with boiled Piccolo potatoes or use it on your favorite greens.

Baby beets shine like tender jewels in this salad, their color offset by creamy, handmade ricotta. Roasting the beets heightens the sweetness, concentrating their flavor, while the orange adds a touch of brightness. I use baby arugula and watercress here, though you can choose any other baby greens that have a little bite to them.

On a recent visit to South Carolina, I was lucky enough to visit Clemson University to try some of its famous blue cheese. The university first started making its tangy, marbled cheese in the 1940s, when a dairy professor realized that the cool, dank tunnel of an unfinished local railway line would make the perfect curing environment. Although the operations have since moved indoors, Clemson continues to make its Roquefort-style cheese in small batches using the same artisanal methods (see Sources, page 377). At the campus cafes, you can try everything from blue cheese pizza to blue cheese milkshakes. This rich, creamy dressing was inspired by the flavor of Clemson blue cheese—but in a pinch, any Roquefort-style cheese will do.

A classic of the West Coast, this dressing was created in the 1920s by San Francisco’s Palace Hotel in honor of a play by the same name. With buttermilk standing in for sour cream, my “Southern” version is light, tangy, and chock-full of green herbs. It’s the quintessential spring and summer dressing, and because it’s all about using the freshest herbs—whether dill, chervil, sorrel, or cilantro—I almost never make it the same way twice.

I grew up eating most salads with Italian dressing or plain old oil and vinegar, which was the closest I came to vinaigrette. But now I can’t live without vinaigrettes; they’re so easy and flavorful. Here is one of my favorites, which I often make with the dregs from a jar of mustard that would otherwise have been thrown away.

Salted watermelon, cornbread, and molasses. You don’t have to look far to see how much Southerners like to mix their sweet with their salty. This summery salad, featuring Balsamic-glazed grilled peaches and shaved country ham tossed with fresh herbs and creamy goat cheese, is an elegant tribute to this unendingly popular flavor combination. For real Southern flavor, use sticky-sweet Georgia peaches.

I first tried this when Bill Smith, chef of the famed Crook’s Corner restaurant in Chapel Hill, North Carolina, made a similar salad for a magazine feature. I know what you’re probably thinking—strange combination, right? But let me tell you, it really works. As much as I trust Bill’s palate, even I was surprised by how well the mild-sweet melon and acid-sweet tomato went together. I have since made many variations using different kinds of melons, tomatoes, herbs, and cheese, but this one is my all-time favorite.

This simple and refreshing salad is what I crave on especially hot summer days in North Carolina, when even the trees begin to droop and I can’t bear the thought of turning on the oven. That’s the only time to make it, since it’s also when the tomatoes and cucumbers are at their peak and growing like weeds. Have fun mixing and matching colors and shapes using the many varieties—both familiar and strange—that you’re apt to find at your local farmer’s market.

I use buttery Yukon Gold potatoes and a sprinkling of fresh dill in my version of my mom’s classic picnic-style potato salad. It’s best before being refrigerated, when it’s still slightly warm and extra creamy, so try to make it just before serving, if time allows.

With their grassy flavor and creamy texture, pink-eyed peas subtly reinforce the sweet earthiness of roasted sweet potatoes. As always, fresh peas are best, but in the winter you can make this dish with frozen field peas or dried or canned navy beans.

Allowing the farmer’s market to determine the mix of beans in this filling salad gives new meaning to the traditional “three-bean salad.” Fresh beans are always a treat, but I make this dish year-round by using canned navy, garbanzo, or cannellini beans when fresh ones aren’t available. If using canned beans, just skip the blanching step and toss the beans with the herb vinaigrette.

Southerners just love beets—perhaps because beets are one of the rare vegetables that will grow in the South straight through spring and summer and all the way into the fall. But I like to make this jewel-toned salad best in the spring, when you can get multicolor carrots, like Yellowstones, Purple Dragons, Atomic Reds, and Yayas, and beets, like Boros, Bulls’ Bloods, and Candy Stripes.

My friend Roxy makes this zingy coleslaw, which I love for its sweet and tangy flavors. It’s as close as I come to making that classic, creamy Southern slaw that goes with everything from pulled pork or fried fish to burgers and fries. It also makes a great topping for grilled hot dogs or chicken sausages served in grilled pita bread.

I created this delicate slaw to showcase the vegetables—curlicue pea shoots, tender carrots, spicy arugula, and fresh herbs—that mark the arrival of spring.

Think of fresh deviled ham as pork’s answer to chicken salad. Creamy and savory, it makes a great dip for crackers or crostini. For a light lunch, try scooping it into cups of butter lettuce with sliced tomatoes.

My initial exposure to French cuisine was during my first trip to Europe. It was long before I would eat in any three-star restaurants, and that exposure—the best I could have asked for—came from sitting in cafés. I was a wide-eyed twenty-three-year-old (and I was told by a waiter not to practice my high school French on him). I remember beautiful, colorful plates of vegetables going past me. I soon learned it was the classic French presentation of crudités, an assortment of three or four salads served together. It was fresh, affordable, and very appetizing, and it was served all over the city. Once in a while I’ll run this as a special in my restaurant; then I’ll forget about it until I crave it again. Any one of these salads can stand on its own, but if you put them all together they make for an extraordinary meal. Marinated Lentil Salad with Creamy Goat Cheese and Ripe Tomatoes (p. 113) would be a welcome addition to the mix.