It's graduation season, and we're going to a couple of graduation parties. They're picnic-type parties, so I started thinking about healthy side salads. The appropriate graduation salad should not be one of those fill-you-up, but are nutritionally-empty, ice berg lettuce salads. No, the graduate should start life's new path with a full-garden's-goodness-in-a-single-bowl type of salad, - one of those variety-of-veggie salads that energize brain, body, and soul. I wanted to make one of those.
But where to begin? I remembered a quote from Gerry Garcia of the Grateful Dead, "I can tell your future, just look what's in your hand," which the cook translates into, "I can tell your supper, just look what's in your cupboard."
Last week my cupboard/refrigerator featured middle-aged broccoli and a 1/2 bag of pre-peeled mini carrots which, thanks to technological preparations, and similar to many middle-aged women, appear perpetually young. Plus, some pine nuts still reclined in the cupboard. But a salad consisting just of these offers only a glimpse of the glorious future befitting a graduate. To the Store!
In the veggie aisle, I quested for color, flavor, and variety, - foods to express my creative energy. My tongue suggested jicama - that sweet, white radish. But my eyes didn't see any. So my brain told my hands to pick up a daikon radish. (Life by committee. - It happens.)
I had never knowingly consumed a daikon radish. Neither had one been heartily recommended to me. At hand was new territory, but this radish path was already questionable. The sticker on the daikon read use within one week, which really means the purchaser should have eaten it yesterday. I bought the radish anyway, not letting the fear of imperfection impede me.
My imagined salad now consisted of green broccoli florets interspersed with dots of orange carrots and white radish. I'd throw in those pine nuts, too. Materials gathered, I was on course to manifest my vision.
1st step - I consulted cookbooks. I sought guidance from more experienced cooks who had already traveled the picnic, veggie-salad path. I compared over 2 dozen recipes. None exactly matched my vague idea, but some informed me of appropriate additional ingredients and proportions.
Thus educated, I heeded others' advice regarding blanching the broccoli. Now, if I have ever blanched anything before, I don't remember. To me, Blanche is a tragic heroine waiting tables in a forgotten, roadside diner, or perhaps, she's a copy-typist in a basement cubicle of a branch office of a multi-national corporation. Or maybe she's just someone Tennessee Williams made up. But she's anything but vibrant, green broccoli. So, did I blanch the broccoli correctly? I don't know. I dropped the florets into boiling water and when they were bright green and before they got mushy, I took them out. Perfect? - who's to say? - Adequate? - why not?
On to the carrots. The vision said to shave the carrots. They're so small that practicality said dice them. I diced them. And the daikon radish? The vision said large, round slices. I tasted the radish. It was slightly bitter, so I diced it too. Bitter is always better swallowed in small bits rather than large bites. - Remember this, if you haven't learned it already.
Then I mixed the veggies and realized something was missing. I diced 1/2 a red onion. - The flavors complemented each other pretty well. I was satisfied so far.
On to the dressing. I still had those pine nuts. Like a personal idosyncracy unable to be overcome, these pine nuts seem to go where I go. They were destined for the salad. But pine nuts taste better when toasted. So I heated 2 Tablespoons of peanut oil and 1 teaspoon of pure sesame oil in a skillet. I poured in the 1/2 cup of pine nuts and began to saute them. Some recipes had recommended fresh ginger as an ingredient of veggie salads. So I diced a Tablespoon of ginger root and added it to the browning pine nuts. I also pressed in 2 cloves of garlic and a dash of red pepper flakes. My simmering creation would be flavorful, with a touch of spice.
As the nuts cooked, I mixed a 1/4 cup of rice vinegar with 1 teaspoon of sugar, and 1 teaspoon of soy sauce, together in a Pyrex beaker. When the nuts were lightly brown, I poured the skillet mixture into the beaker and stirred.
Then I tasted. Wow, that was sour! My husband happened through the kitchen and I got his opinion. "Needs white wine," he said. I didn't have white wine. I recalled other recipes calling for white wine vinegar, which I did have. I added 2 teaspoons of that. I also added 1 more teaspoon of sugar, 1/2 teaspoon of soy sauce, and 1/4 teaspoon of salt, and a dash of fresh ground, black pepper.
I was now in the inevitable and crucial testing and tinkering stage. Regardless of what medium one crafts greatness in, evaluating, revising, and polishing are required steps in the path toward constructing anything half decent. I've never written a rough draft that didn't need revision (including this one).
I tasted my concoction again. The flavor was less bad. I continued my efforts and hope, despite my daughter saying, "What's that terrible smell?! I don't have to eat that do I?" Even a perfect life has its critics, and the life-in-progress is most mis-understood.
I recalled that another dressing recipe used Hoisin sauce. I've never used it in cooking, just for dipping. But I like Hoisin sauce; it's sweet, plus I had some.
Then I did something that surprised me, and I realized that my previous culinary failures had actually gifted me some common kitchen sense. Instead of rushing to add an unknown ingredient at full strength into the mix, - a definite path of no return, which in other circumstances I have traveled too often, - I spooned a little of the dressing into a small bowl, added a couple drops of Hoisin sauce, mixed, and tasted. Now the dressing was becoming palatable - even suggestively tasty. I made a second sample, this time I added more Hoisin sauce. Even better.
With renewed confidence, I added a spoonful of the broccoli mixture to the sample, stirred, tasted, and - Eureka! This particular combo of the dressing plus the veggie mixture tasted far better than either the dressing or veggies had alone. This whole was definitely better than the sum of its parts.
I put about 2 teaspoons of Hoisin sauce into the beaker of dressing. Then I poured the dressing over all the veggies. I stirred, tasted, approved, and set the bowl aside in the refrigerator. The flavors needed a chance to chill out and get to know each other. I'd see what they they could do on their own.
That night, I brought my creation to a picnic. I told my friends what I had put into it. "Interesting," they responded. As my friend served it, she offered it saying "Want some of Cristie's concoction?" I have good friends, so despite the introduction, they accepted the salad on to their plates. But then, well I'll go ahead and boast, their wary tastings became eager forkfuls. They liked it! They had seconds! Cristie's Concoction Worked!
And so it goes to show, an original path may begin with a vague vision and on-hand ingredients. But the hopeful, adventurous spirit will study the experience of others, try new ingredients, persevere through discouraging moments, suffer critics graciously while diligently revising, and patiently allow all that has been set into motion to mature. Then, when the time comes, the traveler's creation becomes something good to share.
I had fun creating Cristie's Concoction, plus it nourished and pleased other people. My day was a success, - and what's a life but a grand bunch of days. A toast to the good life, and to the graduate!
If you'd like to read this recipe in a recipe format, I've posted it on my side page Healthy Salads.
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P.S. I'm so pleasantly surprised by Cristie's Concoction, that I'm entering the salad in SnackShots #4: Salad, the blogging event hosted by The Greedy Gourmet. Check it out!
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Graduation gifts abound at Wisconsinmade.com. And great parties begin with GOOD FOOD! Here are some suggestions:
Any Excuse Party Snack Assortment
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Nueske's Favorite Links Sampler
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A Tower of Inspiration Bakery Gift Box
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I do this sometimes too--making a dish with what I have at that time. It's kind of fun. :)
Posted by: Thip | June 30, 2008 at 06:17 AM
It's funny by trying out loads of recipes and making many cockups along the way you just learn to cook. When nothing is planned for the night and you stare at a few ingredients in the fridge and cupboard, it is a great feeling to put something together that just works. :-) Thanks for participating in SnackShots and don't forget to check out the roundup soon!
Posted by: Michelle | June 25, 2008 at 03:16 PM