Because barley is the first crop to ripen in the spring it has become a symbol of new life and hope, making it the perfect grain for this vibrant springtime salad.
The truth is, most tomato salads don’t need a recipe. Vinegar, olive oil, plenty of crunchy salt, and call it a day. If you have some herbs on hand, throw those in. What would a tomato salad look like if it deserved a recipe? Something like this. Very savory. Topped with garlic-chile crisp and dressed with its delicious oil. Anchovies and fennel seeds heighten the tomato’s flavor while bringing even more savory undertones. It’s spicy, with the chile flakes. This isn’t a simple caprese that you whipped up on a summer afternoon. It’s still simple but steals the show.
I won’t try to say this is anything like eating pasta cacio e pepe or that it will satisfy your craving for it—because it isn’t, and it won’t. But there is something ethereal about this salad that really speaks to the season. Shaved vegetables are so elegant and fresh. You could also add some raw zucchini noodles in place of cucumber if you wanted to, serve it on top of thin, crispy or grilled chicken cutlets, or you could pile it on top of baked pizza crust (I might add a little burrata if I was doing that).
Andrea DeMaio, our marketing director, inherited this recipe from her maman, Phyllis. It really shines in the fall, especially when made with local apples, but Andrea’s family asks Phyllis to make it year-round, every time they gather together. And Andrea brings it to all our staff potlucks—everyone loves the unique curry vinaigrette, and the salad is vegan, so no one is ever left out.
We don’t often consider sweet potatoes to be a vegetable to eat raw. During our projects with Louisiana State University, we found several varieties we preferred uncooked, including Covington and Creamsicle. They are sweet, with a lower starch content and smooth cell structure. For inspiration, we looked to Southeast Asia, making the type of sweet, tangy, and umami-rich dressing you might find on a papaya salad. Serve this side dish alongside grilled fish or shrimp or rice noodles.
The dressing for this salad was another Chez Panisse lesson on one of my first days. Whole Meyer lemons, zest and pith, get diced up and mixed with shallots, their juices and olive oil to make the most heavenly winter salad dressing. I had never used lemons in this way before and it was, again, one of those lightbulb moments that just changed how I saw every ingredient. This dressing is great on a raw fish crudo or winter chicory salad as well. Look for different kinds of citrus at the farmers’ market and use everything from kumquats to grapefruits to oranges. Although we use Meyer lemons in the dressing, stay away from lemons and limes for slicing into the salad as they can be too tart.
I love mixing textures of cooked and raw vegetables in salads. In this case, soft wilted spinach with shaved fennel and apple that add sweetness and crunch, while the pistachio butter adds nutty creaminess. I also throw a few crushed, deeply toasted fennel seeds in to add a bit more interest.
People are always surprised when I tell them they don’t have to cook corn. I really love the texture and sweetness of raw corn, especially in this colorful salad. It travels well, so you can take it on picnics or pack it for lunches. If you’re making it in advance, save the avocados and dressing and add both just before serving.
All you novice grillers out there: This recipe is going to be your go-to. Chicken thighs are one of the most forgivable cuts of meat to grill. Inattentive cooks are often surprised to find that they are still moistand juicy inside even if over-charred outside. I don’t recommend that, but it’s nice to know. To add even more depth and moisture, I love to serve meaty grilled thighs with a fresh herb salsa, typically just using a mix of whatever fresh herbs I have on hand. The secret of the salsa is the anchovy. Don’t skip this ingredient! It provides the savory umami flavor that brings all the other flavors together.
When the idea for this popped into my head, I could almost taste it. It’s such a fine tumble of contrasting flavours and textures, and the sourness comes from the mango or the tamarind: you can never be sure of a mango until you taste it, so hold fire on finishing the dressing until you’ve tried the mango – add a little honey if it is unripe and sour; leave it alone if it is edging towards sweet. This is great with pea shoots in place of rocket [Ed. note: rocket is arugula], coriander rather than mint, a red onion instead of the shallot, and by all means cast pomegranate seeds over the top. Play with it as you like.