Producers to Look For
Makes 4 to 6 servings
We thought we’d really go for it with a slightly hippie but totally delicious salad packed with crunchy kohlrabi and chewy grains, and pair it with our favorite wine you’ve never heard of: Edelzwicker. Yes, Edelzwicker. It’s that easy-drinking, fruity white blend from Alsace. It’s fun and refreshing, often sold in liter bottles, and not meant to be a serious wine. But that doesn’t mean it’s not fantastic. Made from a blend of any number of grapes grown in Alsace, Edelzwicker comes from Edel, or “noble,” and Zwicker, or “blend.” It refers to the noble varieties that are used: riesling, gewürztraminer, pinot gris, pinot blanc, Sylvaner, muscat, and others. Like many wines (here’s looking at you, Lambrusco and rosé), Edelzwicker has gotten its fair share of bad press. For many years it was considered cheap country wine, made from inferior grapes, and bottled for bulk consumption. As a result, some top producers have forgone the word Edelzwicker on their label so as not to tarnish their reputation.
In support of the collective effort to eat more salads—and salads that aren’t just based on leafy greens—this one is substantial enough to be a vegetarian dinner, but certainly makes a fantastic starter, too. It screams texture, and is both hearty and playful. Edelzwicker has the perfect balance of fragrant white flowers and a touch of waxy richness to play off the vibrant dressing and earthy grains. If you can’t find a bottle of Edelzwicker, well, that’s a shame, but any Alsatian wine labeled Gentil would also work, although it will cost you a few dollars more.
8 ounces carrots, coarsely chopped
¼ cup water
Juice of 1 large lemon
2 tablespoons tahini
2 teaspoons honey
1 (½-inch) piece of ginger, peeled and coarsely chopped
1 small clove garlic
1 teaspoon kosher salt, or to taste
½ cup extra-virgin olive oil
Salad
¼ cup extra-virgin olive oil
1 large clove garlic, smashed
¼ teaspoon red pepper flakes
1 cup wheat berries
2 cups water
1 bay leaf
Kosher salt
5 large kale leaves, stemmed
1⅓ pounds kohlrabi
Toasted pumpkin seeds, for sprinkling
To make the dressing: In a blender, combine the carrots, water, lemon juice, tahini, honey, ginger, garlic, and salt and blend on high speed until smooth. With the blender running, drizzle in the oil until it’s fully incorporated and the dressing is thick and smooth. Taste and adjust the seasoning. (The dressing can be made up to 5 days in advance and kept chilled.)
To make the salad: In a small skillet, heat 2 tablespoons of the oil with the garlic and red pepper flakes over medium heat. Soon you’ll hear a gentle sizzle. Decrease the heat to medium-low and cook, stirring occasionally, until the garlic is aromatic and light golden brown, 3 to 5 minutes. Add the wheat berries and toast, stirring often. They will begin to pop after 5 or 6 minutes, but keep stirring until they smell toasty and several begin to pop at once, 1 to 2 minutes more. Pour in the water, throw in the bay leaf, and season with 1½ teaspoons salt. Bring to a boil, then decrease the heat to a gentle simmer, cover, and cook until the wheat berries are tender but still quite chewy, 40 minutes to 1 hour. Drain well and spread the wheat berries on a rimmed baking sheet, mashing up the bits of garlic and stirring them in. Set aside to cool.
Meanwhile, preheat the oven to 400°F.
Tear the kale into bite-size, uneven pieces no larger than 2 inches or so. Toss them on a rimmed baking sheet with 1 tablespoon oil and ½ teaspoon salt until well coated, then spread them out evenly. Bake until crispy, 8 to 10 minutes.
Trim, peel, and halve the kohlrabi. Slice them paper-thin using a mandoline, or as thinly as you can using a sharp knife. Toss the slices with the remaining 1 tablespoon oil and a good pinch of salt.
Just before serving, add the crunchy kale to the kohlrabi and toss gently, without crushing the kale too much. Smear a couple spoonfuls of the dressing in a big circle in the center of each plate. Spoon the wheat berries over the dressing and pile the kohlrabi and kale on top. Sprinkle with pumpkin seeds and serve.
Makes 4 to 6 servings
The Piedmont region of Northwest Italy is known for Barolo and Barbaresco, the names of two villages and two wines, both made from nebbiolo grapes. Yes, barbera and dolcetto grapes are also grown throughout Piedmont, making it a red-heavy area. But let’s not forget about arneis (ar-NAYZS), one of Italy’s great white wines. If grown in the sandy white soils of the Roero part of Piedmont, arneis has a little more structure and citrusy edge. But coming from the clay-based soils of the Langhe (the heart of nebbiolo country), arneis is more striking and rich. Believe it or not, arneis used to be a blending grape, added to nebbiolo to make it just slightly more approachable and drinkable. That all went out the window at the beginning of the twentieth century and arneis quickly fell out of fashion. It wasn’t until the mid-eighties that a handful of growers showed a renowned interest in it.
This is our ultimate version of an Italian-American chopped salad. A textural mash-up of crisp lettuces, crunchy chickpeas, and slow-roasted tomatoes makes for a delicious new take on an old favorite. It’s fairly easy to toss together, and you might even have many of the ingredients on hand. But with lemon, vinegar, oregano, and spicy pickled peppers in the mix, this classic salad presents a pairing predicament. Initially we thought a pinot grigio would do the trick, but that proved to be acid overload. We found that arneis has an inherent floral quality and enough fruit to balance the acidity and heat of the salad. Although we’re not usually fans of too-cold white wines, this is one you’ll want to have very chilled so that the flavors are zingy and pop against the robust salad.
½ cup extra-virgin olive oil
2 tablespoons dried oregano
2 tablespoons red wine vinegar
1 tablespoon fresh lemon juice
2 cloves garlic, minced
Kosher salt
Freshly ground black pepper
½ cup thinly sliced red onion
1 (15-ounce) can chickpeas, drained and rinsed
1 heaping pint cherry tomatoes, preferably a mix of colors
½ small head radicchio, thinly sliced
1 head romaine lettuce, chopped into 1-inch pieces
4 ounces Piave or Parmigiano-Reggiano cheese, cut into ¼-inch cubes
4 ounces soppressata salami, cut into matchsticks
⅓ cup pickled hot red peppers, such as cherry bomb or Hungarian, sliced into rings
Preheat the oven to 400°F.
Whisk ¼ cup of the oil with the oregano, vinegar, lemon juice, garlic, 2 teaspoons salt, and several grinds of pepper in an extra-large salad bowl. Add the onion, tossing to coat the slices in the vinaigrette, and set aside to marinate while you prepare the rest of the salad, or for up to 1 day.
Pat the chickpeas dry with paper towels, toss them with 2 tablespoons oil, and season with a big pinch of salt and lots of pepper. Spread them on a rimmed baking sheet and roast until nicely browned and crispy, 25 to 35 minutes. Set aside to cool.
Halve the cherry tomatoes and toss them with the remaining 2 tablespoons oil and a big pinch of salt. Spread the cherry tomatoes and excess oil in a baking dish that fits them snuggly in an even layer and then roast until wilted and juicy (some may be blistered in spots), 20 to 25 minutes. Set aside to cool. (The cherry tomatoes can be roasted at the same time as the chickpeas.)
While the chickpeas and cherry tomatoes are in the oven, prepare a large bowl of ice water. Soak the radicchio for at least 20 minutes and up to 1 hour in the ice water to reduce some of the bitterness and crisp it up a bit. Drain well and dry in a salad spinner or between kitchen towels.
Add the romaine lettuce, radicchio, cheese, salami, and pickled peppers to the bowl of vinaigrette and onions and toss. Add the roasted tomatoes and juices and oil from the roasting pan and toss again to coat everything well. Top with the crunchy chickpeas and serve family-style at the table.
Producers to Look For
Makes 4 to 6 servings, or 8 to 10 as part of a feast
The world of German riesling is large and confusing. Riesling has far too often been thought of as only sweet. It’s suffered a vicious history with the devastating root louse phylloxera and living through both World Wars. The heart of German riesling, the Mosel, is home to incredibly steep vineyards that are nearly impossible to farm. Add to all that impossible-to-decipher wine labels and the result is riesling is misunderstood and underappreciated by most of the world. Because riesling is one of our favorite grapes, we want to make it a tiny bit easier to get on board: German rieslings are generally labeled by their ripeness level, using the Qualitätswein and Prädikatswein scales. Keep in mind that this doesn’t indicate how sweet the wine will be, but instead how fruity and rich it will be. Look for words like feinherb, halbtrocken, and kabinett to get you into a bottle that is just off-dry, which is the sweet spot (no pun intended) for people who say they don’t like riesling. Wines labeled spätlese and auslese will be progressively riper and much fruitier and start getting into sweet-wine territory. Beware that there are some phenomenal producers who do not label according to the ripeness scales but make wines that would technically fall into the “dry-ish” category. Buying riesling is the perfect opportunity to utilize your shopkeeper’s knowledge to find the style you’re looking for. For this bright citrus salad, be sure to choose something on the dry-ish side, as anything too rich and sweet will just drown out the umami of the fish sauce and shallots.
Admit it: by January, you get sick of kale salad. We do. Months of hearty greens, winter roots, and storage veggies have us begging for something vibrant, forward, and decidedly not heavy. Enter the orbs of citrus stacked at the market. Juicy and bright grapefruits, oranges, and mandarins are the saviors of a long, cold winter. And while you can just peel and eat them as is, why not toss them into a Burmese-inspired salad with a simple drizzle of fish sauce and lime juice and a sprinkling of crunchy fried shallots and toasted coconut. It’s a great way to enjoy citrus for a winter dinner. Serve this salad as a component in the Crabs and Mags feast (this page), an accompaniment to the tamarind-glazed ribs in our Glou-Glou Thai BBQ (this page), or alongside grilled shrimp for a lighter meal.
1¼ cups thinly sliced (into rings) shallots
1 cup peanut, canola, or vegetable oil, plus more as needed
2 pounds oranges, such as Valencia or Cara Cara
2 pounds grapefruit
½ cup fresh Asian or Italian basil leaves, torn
¼ cup roasted salted peanuts
Juice of ½ lime, or to taste
1 tablespoon fish sauce, or to taste
2 teaspoons minced red or green jalapeño chile
1 teaspoon sugar, or to taste
¼ cup toasted unsweetened coconut flakes
Place a fine-mesh sieve over a small bowl and place it near the stove. Combine 1 cup of the shallots and the oil in a small saucepan and place over medium heat. Once the shallots begin to sizzle, about 5 minutes, decrease the heat to medium-low and gently fry the shallots, stirring often, until deep golden brown and crisp, 30 to 35 minutes. Drain the shallots in the sieve, collecting the infused oil in the bowl. If not using immediately, store the fried shallots and shallot oil at room temperature in separate sealed containers for up to 1 month.
Meanwhile, soak the remaining ¼ cup shallots in a bowl of cold water for about 20 minutes to release some of their pungency.
Working with one orange at a time, cut a slice from the top and bottom to reveal the flesh. Stand the orange upright and slice away the peel from the sides in wide strips, cutting downward, following the contour of the fruit, and removing all the white pith. Holding the orange over a bowl, use a sharp paring knife to cut along both sides of each segment, releasing the segments and allowing them and the juice to drop into the bowl beneath. (These citrus segments are called suprèmes.) Pick out the seeds as you go. Squeeze any remaining juice from the pith into the bowl. Repeat with the remaining oranges and the grapefruit. Drain the juice from the suprèmes, reserving it for another use (or just drink it on the spot).
Drain the shallots from the water and add them to the bowl of citrus suprèmes. Add the basil, peanuts, lime juice, fish sauce, 2 teaspoons fried shallot oil, jalapeño, and sugar. Gently toss to combine, being careful not to break up the citrus. Taste and adjust the seasoning, adding more fish sauce, lime juice, sugar, or oil, as needed.
Transfer the salad to a large, shallow serving bowl and top with the coconut flakes, followed by the fried shallots. Serve immediately.
Makes 6 servings
Malvasia, also known as malvazija (MAHL-va-zee-ah), depending which part of Europe you’re in, is a grape that many people are unfamiliar with. Its habitat runs throughout Italy, Slovenia, Greece, Spain, and Portugal, with far-flung examples from California and South America. Ever drunk Malmsey Madeira? It’s made from malvasia. It’s a particularly sweet version of the grape, but also one of the great examples. There’s a time and place for a honeyed, deeply caramelized dessert wine; this is not it. We’re hoping to turn you on to dry malvasia, with its tropical fruits, beeswax, and chamomile profile. It’s got acidity, but not too much, and an unexpected weightiness that makes it feel a bit more serious than you might expect. We’ve suggested malvasia from around Europe in hopes that you might taste a couple of different bottles side by side to see the differences in style. Many producers make orange, or skin-contact, malvasia. They’ll be too tannic and savory for this recipe, so avoid them and grab a bottle of white.
This is a dish that’s all about few, but very good, ingredients. Make this at the height of melon season, when the cantaloupes are dripping with their intoxicating juices and their flesh is both perfectly orange and slightly yielding. Choose a ripe avocado and watermelon radishes and really fruity olive oil. Have your butcher shave your prosciutto paper-thin. And please don’t skimp on the freshly ground pepper and flaky salt. What you’ll find with this pairing is that the salty-sweet combination of the melon and ham beautifully complements the perfumed aromatics of a dry malvasia.
½ ripe cantaloupe
4 ounces prosciutto, sliced paper-thin
1 ripe avocado
1 watermelon radish, or 6 red or Easter Egg radishes, thinly sliced
1 bunch fresh mint, leaves picked
¼ cup aromatic extra-virgin olive oil (use a good one for this)
Flaky sea salt
Freshly ground black pepper
Halve the cantaloupe and scoop out the seeds. Cut the melon lengthwise into quarters and trim off the rinds. Using a mandoline, or working carefully with a chef’s knife, slice each quarter lengthwise into ⅛-inch-thick pliable ribbons. Arrange the ribbons on a large platter in an even layer, folding and rolling them in a beautiful tangle. Fold and nestle the prosciutto slices around the melon ribbons.
Halve the avocado, remove the pit, and cut the flesh lengthwise into quarters. Cut each quarter crosswise into very thin slices without cutting through the peel. Now scoop the slices from the peels. Dot the avocado around the salad, in groupings of 4 to 6 slices that are slightly fanned out.
Tuck the radish slices into the salad here and there. Tear the mint leaves if they are large, but keep the small ones whole, and scatter them over the top. Drizzle the salad with the oil, sprinkle with salt and several grinds of pepper, and serve.
Producers to Look For
Makes 4 to 6 servings
In the world of sweet wine, gewürztraminer certainly stands close to the center of the crowd. Even one whiff of gewürz and her heady, intoxicating aromas of honey, rose petals, baking spices, and lychee will have you thinking that you’re about to drink something sweet. But there’s plenty of dry gewürztraminer in the world, and they work in perfect unison with spiced, and spicy, foods. The heaviest concentration of the grape is in Alsace, tucked up in France’s northeast corner near Germany, and it’s made in both dry and famously sweet styles. Here, dry gewürz has a weight and richness to it, making it a true full-bodied white wine, with just enough acidity to keep it from being flabby. The Italian alpine region of Alto Adige has a large quantity of gewürztraminer, generally leaner and more minerally than in Alsace. Germany, Australia, and the United States also produce various styles of the wine. We recommend looking for a bottle on the drier side, but still high in aromatics. Part of the magic of this chaat-and-wine duo is the spices in each and how they play off each other synchronistically.
There is nothing better than a just-picked tomato—warm from the sun, perfumed by tomato leaf, and so juicy it runs down your arm if you bite into it like it’s an apple. Sure, you can make a simple tomato-and-mayo sandwich, or preserve them for wintertime sauce making. Or you can make a tomato salad. You’ve had panzanella, Italy’s ingenious use for stale bread that’s tossed with tomatoes and onions, and caprese, layers of tomato, mozzarella, and basil leaves doused in good olive oil. Those are certainly fabled dishes in the lore of the tomato. Our version of a tomato salad is a different take, inspired by Indian chaat, and relying on the tomato leaf aromatics and a kick of heat to pair with spicy, bold gewürztraminer. Only make this dish when tomatoes are in season—you’ll want the reddest, beefiest, juiciest slicing tomatoes or the prettiest heirloom varieties you can find. They are the star of this salad. Everything that sits on top of the tomatoes are condiments that add spice, heat, crunch, and salt. There’s yogurt for a creamy, cooling effect, and a big handful of cilantro and mint for freshness. Don’t miss the opportunity to make this chaat—it’s one of our most beloved recipes.
1½ cups packed fresh cilantro leaves and thin stems
¾ cup packed fresh mint leaves
1 serrano chile, seeded and coarsely chopped
2 (quarter-size) slices fresh ginger
Juice of ½ lime
3 tablespoons water
½ teaspoon kosher salt
½ teaspoon sugar
2 teaspoons cumin seeds
1½ teaspoons fennel seeds
¼ teaspoon Indian red chile powder, or ancho chile powder, or ⅛ teaspoon cayenne pepper
⅓ cup sweet corn kernels, cut from the cob
⅓ cup finely diced cucumber
⅓ cup finely diced red onion
2 to 2½ pounds heirloom or beefsteak tomatoes
Flaky sea salt
⅓ cup plain yogurt, thinned with 1 tablespoon milk
⅓ cup puffed rice (see Note)
⅓ cup sev (optional; see Note)
Handful of cilantro leaves
Handful of mint leaves
To make the chutney: Put the cilantro, mint, serrano, ginger, lime juice, water, salt, and sugar in a blender or food processor and pulse to a coarse paste, scraping down the sides as needed. (The chutney will keep, covered, in the refrigerator for up to 3 days.)
Place a small skillet over medium heat and add the cumin seeds and fennel seeds. Toast the spices, shaking the pan often, until lightly browned and aromatic, 3 to 5 minutes. Transfer the toasted spices to a spice grinder or mortar and pestle and process to a powder. Combine the spice powder and chile powder in a small bowl.
In a medium bowl, combine the corn, cucumber, and red onion.
Cut the tomatoes into ⅜-inch-thick slices and arrange them, partially overlapping, on a large serving platter. Sprinkle each slice generously with salt, followed by the spice blend. Drizzle with the thinned yogurt, then the chutney. Sprinkle the corn mixture evenly over the top, then the puffed rice. Next, sprinkle on the sev and finish with a scattering of cilantro and mint leaves. Serve immediately.
Note
Puffed rice and sev (crispy chickpea noodle strands) are crunchy toppings common to Indian chaat. We love what sev adds to this salad, but it can really only be purchased at Indian grocers or online, which is why it is an optional topping. However, puffed rice can be found at your regular supermarket. Just be sure to get an unsweetened variety, usually stocked in the cereal aisle, or possibly in the natural foods section of the store.
Makes 4 to 6 servings
Chenin blanc is one of the Loire Valley’s most revered varieties, and it’s high on the list of favorite grapes of sommeliers and everyday wine drinkers alike. Stylistically, the grape can make racy, high-acid wines, but it can also make wines of great richness and body, with a nutty, almost oily texture. Flavors range from stone fruits with a hint of smokiness to all-out overly ripe apples dipped in honey. We like the former with our Louie, so that the acid in the wine doesn’t fight the acidity of the dressing and tomatoes. Look for chenin from regions such as Savennières, Jasnières, and Montlouis, or those labeled Anjou Blanc to hit that perfect balance between the salad and your bottle. They’ll have both the richness and the acidity needed to match Louie. Be aware that some chenin blancs are semi- or fully sweet, so check in with your shopkeeper to make sure you’re grabbing something that’s dry.
On a hot day, nothing sounds quite as delicious for dinner as a crisp, refreshing salad and a cold glass of white wine. This is our take on the ages-old Louie, historically made with crab or shrimp, iceberg lettuce, tomatoes, hard-boiled eggs, and a sweet, mayonnaise-based dressing in the Thousand Island family. Instead of iceberg, we use Little Gem lettuces, which look like mini-heads of romaine. They’re wonderfully dainty and tender. They have a short growing season in the late spring through midsummer, so if you can’t find them, one large head of regular romaine cut into wedges will work just fine. Here they’re topped with sweet corn and crispy, salty bacon, as well as cherry tomatoes and avocado, and finished with petite bay shrimp. What you end up with is a crunchy, toothsome, juicy-rich texture that gets together with a green goddess–inspired dressing, and summer dinner is served.
Creamy Green Buttermilk Dressing
¾ cup sour cream
¼ cup buttermilk
2 tablespoons Champagne vinegar or white wine vinegar
⅔ cup lightly packed fresh flat-leaf parsley leaves and thin stems
⅔ cup lightly packed fresh tarragon leaves
3 green onions, white and light green parts, coarsely chopped
1 small clove garlic, smashed
1 teaspoon kosher salt, or to taste
½ teaspoon freshly ground black pepper, or to taste
Salad
Kosher salt
2 ears yellow sweet corn, shucked
6 strips thick-cut bacon, cut crosswise into ½-inch pieces
4 to 6 heads Little Gem lettuce
1 pint cherry tomatoes, halved
1 large avocado, diced
12 ounces cooked bay shrimp
To make the dressing: Combine the sour cream, buttermilk, vinegar, parsley, tarragon, green onions, garlic, salt, and pepper in a blender and blend until smooth. Taste and adjust the seasoning. Transfer the dressing to a jar with a lid and refrigerate until cold and thickened, about 1 hour. (The dressing will keep, covered, in the refrigerator for up to 4 days.)
To make the salad: Bring a large pot of water to a boil and season it generously with salt. Add the corn and cook until it’s bright yellow and just cooked through, about 3 minutes. Drain and set aside to cool. When cool enough to handle, cut the cobs in half crosswise (to make removing the kernels less messy), then cut the kernels from the cobs. Spread the corn on a large plate and refrigerate until chilled.
Meanwhile, warm a large skillet over medium heat and add the bacon. Cook until crispy and browned at the edges but still a little chewy in the center, about 5 minutes. Drain the bacon on a paper towel–lined plate.
Cut each head of lettuce in half lengthwise through the core and trim off the core ends. Arrange two halves on each chilled plate and drizzle generously with the dressing. Scatter the corn over each salad, dividing it evenly, then add the cherry tomatoes, avocado, and bacon. Finish with the shrimp and serve.
Producers to Look For
Makes 4 to 6 servings
We really, really like the idea of grabbing what we classify as an “easy” bottle of wine on the way home from work and making the simplest dinner possible to go with it. The idea being that neither the wine nor the food should require much thought, but that you can still end up with a delicious dinner and a wine you’re happy to drink. Sauvignon blanc has become everyday wine for most people. It’s generally not terribly complex, it’s refreshing, and pairs well with lots of different foods, including notoriously tricky vinaigrette. While the acidity in some wines fights the acidity in a salad dressing, French-style sauvignon blanc has fewer of the typical “green” notes found in most New World wines. Some modern New Zealand and American sauv blancs can display flavors such as cut grass and sharp citrus, but their French and French-inspired counterparts are more minerally with softer yellow fruit, a great foil for vinegar. Fantastic examples can also be found in Austria and South Africa.
This is our ideal green salad: just a few fresh ingredients mixed in a bowl with olive oil and vinegar, and it can be served in less than ten minutes. Add some leftover grilled salmon or rotisserie chicken and you have a light meal, or serve it alongside any of the recipes in this book. Because it’s so straightforward, use care with each ingredient and choose the best-quality extra-virgin olive oil and vinegar. Pluck the brightest herbs and shave the vegetables as thinly as possible to complement the texture of the delicate lettuce leaves, which we like to keep whole for a more exciting presentation.
1 large head butter lettuce
½ small fennel bulb, tops trimmed and fronds reserved
5 radishes, tops trimmed, leaving 1 inch of stems attached
¼ cup mixed herbs, such as dill fronds, tarragon leaves, and 1-inch-snipped chives, or a combination
¼ cup extra-virgin olive oil, or to taste
3 tablespoons Champagne or white wine vinegar, or to taste
Kosher salt
Freshly ground black pepper
Cut the core from the head of lettuce and separate the leaves. Wash and pat them dry between kitchen towels and place them in a very large bowl.
Using a mandoline, cut the fennel bulb lengthwise so thinly that the slices are bendy and translucent. Slice the radishes in the same way, from root to stem end. Add the sliced fennel and a small handful of fennel fronds, radishes, and herbs to the bowl. Drizzle in the oil and vinegar and sprinkle with a big pinch of salt and several grinds of pepper. Gently toss. Taste and add more vinegar, oil, salt, or pepper, as needed, and serve.
Makes 4 to 6 servings
When we talk about some of our favorite unsung white wines, we immediately talk about Southwest France. No fancy name for this region, just Sud-Ouest, bordered by Bordeaux in the west, the Languedoc-Roussillon in the east, and the Pyrenees to the south. It’s wild and off the beaten path, and home to an incredibly diverse array of varieties that take a little influence from Bordeaux, but otherwise march to the beat of their own drummer. Jurançon is nearly in the southwest corner of the country and is known predominantly for three white grapes—gros manseng, petit manseng, and petit courbu—which make wines of depth and weight, without being high in alcohol. Traditionally known for its honeyed, tropical, sweet wines made from the mansengs, Jurançon also makes compelling dry wines labeled as Jurançon Sec. Notes of beeswax, almond skins, and scrub brush are common here, but always with a serious backbone of mineral freshness, which is just the thing for a wintry rémoulade.
Rémoulade is the name of a famous French condiment akin to mayonnaise, spiced with mustard and herbs and served alongside meat and fish or tossed with celery root for a céleri rémoulade salad. In our version, we’ve used crème fraîche for a brighter, more decadent base, and whipped it with whole-grain mustard, lemon juice, and delicate chervil. Celery root, which mirrors the traditional rémoulade, gives this salad a wonderful crunch and green note, and we added other white winter vegetables for texture and flavor. Be sure to use true whole-grain mustard, not stone-ground, so that the mustard seeds add another layer of crunch as they pop between your teeth.
1¼ cups crème fraîche
3 tablespoons whole-grain mustard
3 tablespoons fresh lemon juice
¾ teaspoon sea salt, or to taste
Freshly ground black pepper
1½ pounds mixed white-fleshed root vegetables, such as celery root, parsnips, white carrots, kohlrabi, and black radish
4 ounces smoked trout
½ cup fresh chervil leaves or ¼ cup chopped fresh flat-leaf parsley
1 cup nasturtium, miner’s lettuce, mâche, purslane, or watercress
In a large bowl, whisk the crème fraîche, mustard, lemon juice, salt, and several grinds of pepper and set aside.
Peel the root vegetables and cut them into matchsticks, either by hand using a chef’s knife, or in a food processor fitted with the julienne attachment. Toss the grated roots in the crème fraîche mixture to coat well. Cover and refrigerate for at least 30 minutes and up to 1 day to develop the flavor.
Flake the fish into bite-size chunks and gently toss with the chervil into the salad. Taste and adjust the seasoning. Transfer the salad to a large, shallow serving bowl. Scatter the nasturtium over the top and serve.
Producers to Look For
Makes 4 to 6 servings, or 8 to 10 as part of a larger meal
Our infatuation with Middle Eastern cuisines made for a very interesting discussion about how wine pairs with spice-route flavors. The smoky, savory, and heady aromas of food from Syria, Lebanon, Israel, Turkey, and their neighbors are often thought to pair best with a cold beer, anise-based spirits, or tea. But we are too curious (and wine-minded) to sit with tradition, and we thought the complexity of wine would not only stand up to but complement the bold tartness of pomegranate molasses and sumac. Eschewing the easy options—Provençal rosé or a simple white wine—we looked to the unusual island wines from Corsica and the Canaries for their mystique and downright wildness. Both tend to have a scrub brush, herbal quality, accompanied by gentle pink fruits and a kiss of sea-salt air. The Canaries, made up of seven major islands and several smaller ones, are known for their old vines that grow out of volcanic black sand. It’s extremely hot and arid on these islands off the coast of North Africa, but also mountainous, which means that wines from the high-altitude vineyards still have plenty of acidity and lip-smacking freshness. Corsica sits southeast of mainland France, not far from Italy, and is formed from limestone and granite, lending minerality and saltiness to its wines. It’s a mountainous island, with grapes that are quite reminiscent of those grown in neighboring Tuscany.
This salad is our wink at fattoush, the ubiquitous dish of the Levant that’s generally made with staples such as cucumbers, tomatoes, peppers, feta, and stale flatbread. We toss fresh, soft figs in a tangy pomegranate molasses vinaigrette, then grill pita breads and salty slabs of halloumi cheese until nicely charred and tear them by hand for a rustic feel. It all gets mixed with tender spinach leaves and makes for a complex salad, rich in sweet and tart flavors that play off the savory notes of the aforementioned island wines. If you squint your eyes just a bit, take a bite of fattoush and a sip of rosé; you can almost imagine yourself in a windswept vineyard on Corsica, or perhaps the Canaries. Note that we definitely recommend seeking out fresh figs when in season, but high-quality dried figs, those that are still soft when squeezed gently between your fingers, will be delicious in this salad as well.
½ cup extra-virgin olive oil, plus more for brushing
2 tablespoons sherry vinegar
1 tablespoon pomegranate molasses
1 clove garlic, minced
1 teaspoon sea salt, or to taste
1 teaspoon sumac
Freshly ground black pepper
1 pound fresh figs, or 8 ounces dried figs, halved if small or quartered if large
3 (8-inch) pita breads
1 pound halloumi cheese, cut into ¾-inch-thick slabs
5 ounces baby spinach
1 cup packed mint leaves
Prepare a fire in a charcoal or gas grill, or preheat a grill pan over high heat until smoking. For charcoal, when the coals are ready, distribute them and preheat the grate. Wait until they’ve reached medium-high heat, or when you can hold your palm about 3 inches above the grill grate for 3 to 5 seconds. If using a gas grill, preheat on high, covered, for about 15 minutes, then adjust the heat as needed throughout cooking.
In an extra-large bowl, whisk the oil, vinegar, pomegranate molasses, garlic, salt, ½ teaspoon of the sumac, and several grinds of pepper to emulsify. Taste and adjust the seasoning. Add the figs to the bowl and toss briefly to coat. Set aside to marinate the figs while preparing the rest of the salad, or for up to 1 hour.
Brush both sides of the pita breads and the cheese slices with a light coating of oil. First, grill the pita until crisp but still a little soft in the center, with deep grill marks on both sides, turning occasionally to prevent burning, 2 to 4 minutes. Remove the pitas from the grill and sprinkle with the remaining ½ teaspoon sumac. Set aside until cool enough to handle, then tear the pita into jagged, bite-size pieces.
Meanwhile, grill the cheese until it has deep grill marks on both sides and feels softened in the center, 5 to 7 minutes.
Add the pita to the bowl of figs and vinaigrette and toss. Add the spinach and mint leaves and toss again to coat everything well. Tear the grilled cheese into small chunks over the salad. Top with several grinds of pepper and serve immediately.
Producers to Look For
Wine has been made in Southern France’s Provence region for more than 2,500 years, and the traditions and feelings about wine culture there are fierce. More than half of the production is rosé, made from grenache, syrah, cinsault, and mourvèdre, and save for a few pricey, age-worthy bottles, most Provençal pinks are the quintessential summertime wine for just about anything you’re eating. There is delicious white wine made from bourboulenc (BOUR-bu-lenk), clairette, and ugni blanc (oo-NEE blahnk) to be had in Provence, specifically in the small region of Cassis. Given the warm temperatures along the Mediterranean, the whites there have characteristic beeswax, yellow apple, and herbes de Provence flavors, with lower acidity than some of their counterparts farther north. They’re absolutely classic pairings with seafood, such as bouillabaisse, Provence’s famed seaside stew. While they don’t get as much of the spotlight as rosé, the red wines made here are second to none. Between Bandol, where wines are based on the inky mourvèdre variety, and Palette, the tiny region that mostly belongs to just one winery, some extremely serious, ageable reds can be found in the South of France. With their wild, rustic notes and deep, dark fruit profile, you might not imagine the region’s reds being a great pairing with poached albacore tuna, but they do work exceptionally well together. While we might not suggest the gamiest, darkest Bandol you can find, a young red from Coteaux d’Aix-en-Provence or just Provence AOP is the right way to go, especially with a little chill on it.
Aioli, that famous oil and garlic sauce that hails from Provence, is so important in Southern French culture that it gets its own fête. Le Grand Aioli is indeed grand. In its purest form, aioli is just olive oil and garlic. Like many other modern cooks, we add egg for richness and to help secure the emulsion, and lemon juice to balance the rich flavor. A mild, fruity olive oil will taste better than a robust one, which would make the aioli bitter. Garlic is most delicate in the spring and summer, so don’t be shocked by the amount called for in this recipe. Using garlic poached in olive oil further diminishes its potency and turns it into something altogether luxurious. But the addition of fresh garlic adds a kick of heat that makes our aioli that much more true to its roots. The sauce is traditionally, and most deliciously, made in a marble mortar with a wooden pestle. Whisking the oil into the garlic in a bowl is certainly an alternative, but it’s never quite the same. The action of pounding and grinding the garlic in the mortar, and then slowly stirring in the oil with the pestle, releases flavors and textures beyond expectation.
Le Grand Aioli table is a showcase for delicately poached fish, boiled new potatoes, vibrant crudités, soft-cooked eggs, and vessels of garlicky, velvety aioli meant to be slathered over everything. This is a quintessential early summer feast to celebrate everything new: first-of-the-season garlic, baby vegetables, and fresh wines. Our menu is completed with another Provençal staple, pissaladière, to serve as your guests arrive. But what makes it really great for warm-weather parties is that every single dish is served at room temperature, so you can prepare it all ahead, and then just enjoy the feast.
Makes 8 to 10 servings
4 (12-ounce) tuna loins, such as albacore, tombo, or ahi
2 teaspoons sea salt
Freshly ground black pepper
1 large lemon, thinly sliced into rings
½ cup pitted Niçoise olives
30 cloves garlic, preferably first-of-the-season fresh garlic (see Note)
3 thyme sprigs
3 marjoram or oregano sprigs
1 rosemary sprig
1 teaspoon culinary lavender buds
About 4 cups mild, fruity extra-virgin olive oil
About 30 minutes before cooking, remove the tuna loins from the refrigerator and season them with the salt and several grinds of pepper.
Put half of the lemon slices in the bottom of a pot that will fit the tuna loins in a single, snug layer. Add the olives, garlic, thyme, marjoram, rosemary, and lavender and pour in the oil. Place the pot over medium-low heat and slowly warm the oil until it registers 160°F to 175°F on a deep-fry thermometer.
Carefully lower the tuna loins into the warm oil, moving the other ingredients to the edges of the pan so that the tuna is completely covered by the oil. Add the remaining lemon slices to the pan to displace the oil and cover the tuna. Slow-poach the tuna until an instant-read thermometer inserted into the center of each loin registers 110°F to 115°F for medium-rare doneness, this can take as little as 8 minutes and up to 20 minutes, depending on the type of tuna. Check the internal temperature often and be careful not to overcook the fish, as it will become fully cooked at just 120°F.
Lift the tuna loins from the oil, allowing excess to drain back into the pot, and transfer them to a serving platter. Set a fine-mesh strainer over a medium bowl and carefully pour the poaching oil through the strainer into the bowl. Quickly cool the oil by nesting the bowl in a larger bowl filled with ice water. Or place it, uncovered, in the refrigerator until cooled to room temperature, 30 to 45 minutes. Reserve 2 cups of the oil to make aioli (this page).
Pick out the lemons, olives, and herbs from the strainer and scatter them around the tuna. Reserve the garlic to make the aioli. Arrange the lemon slices around the tuna. Set the platter aside to cool to room temperature before serving. (The whole platter will keep, covered, in the refrigerator for up to 2 days, but set it out for 1 hour to come back to room temperature before serving.)
Cut slices of the tuna at the table and serve each portion with some of the olives and lemons.
Note
If using mature garlic, be sure to discard any green sprouts in the center of the cloves, which will add a too-pungent flavor.
Makes 8 to 10 servings (about 3 cups)
4 raw cloves garlic, preferably first-of-the-season fresh garlic (see Note, this page)
Poached garlic from Olive Oil–Poached Tuna with Herbes de Provence (this page), at room temperature, plus 2 cups poaching oil, at room temperature
2 teaspoons sea salt
4 large egg yolks, at room temperature
Juice of 1 lemon, at room temperature
½ to 2 teaspoons water
Make the aioli in two batches in a sturdy stone mortar with a wooden pestle, or in one batch in a large bowl with a whisk.
To make the aioli using a mortar and pestle, sprinkle half of the raw and poached garlic with 1 teaspoon of the salt and pound it to a smooth paste. Add 2 of the egg yolks and stir vigorously with the pestle until they are thoroughly mixed with the garlic paste. Begin to add 1 cup of the oil, drop by drop in a very small trickle to the side of the mortar, while stirring constantly with the pestle. As the mixture begins to thicken, the oil can be added in a more steady, thin stream. Be sure to continue stirring briskly with the pestle the whole time when the oil is being added. Once the aioli becomes quite thick, begin intermittently stirring in a little of the lemon juice to thin it, then continue drizzling in the oil while stirring. Once all the oil is added, taste and adjust the seasoning, stirring in up to half of the lemon juice and up to 2 teaspoons water, if needed, to thin it slightly. Transfer the aioli to a small bowl, and repeat to make a second batch using the remaining half of the ingredients.
To make the aioli in a bowl with a whisk, mince the raw garlic on a cutting board and sprinkle it with a pinch of the salt. Tilt the blade of your knife and drag it over the garlic, scraping and smashing the garlic across the surface of the board. Pile the garlic, add another pinch of salt, and scrape it across the board again. Continue piling and scraping the garlic until you have added all the salt and it is a smooth paste. Next, mash the poached garlic with the edge of the knife (they should mash easily without salt). Put the raw and poached garlic in a large bowl and whisk in the egg yolks. Begin to add the oil in a small trickle to the side of the bowl while whisking constantly. Once the aioli is thickened, begin adding the oil in a thin stream, and add a splash of the lemon juice intermittently with the oil. Once all the oil and lemon juice is added, whisk in up to 2 teaspoons water, if needed, to thin it slightly. Taste and adjust the seasoning.
The aioli can be served directly from the mortar, or in a serving bowl to pass at the table.
Store, covered, in the refrigerator for up to 2 days.
Makes 8 to 10 servings
1 pound small new potatoes
1 bay leaf
Kosher salt
1 bunch baby carrots, trimmed to leave 1 inch of stem intact
1 pound green beans, trimmed
1 head purple, orange (“cheddar”), or white cauliflower, trimmed, cored, and cut into florets
1 large fennel bulb, tops trimmed, fronds reserved, and bulb thinly sliced lengthwise through the core
1 bunch French breakfast radishes with fresh-looking green tops attached
1 pound snap peas
5 soft-cooked eggs (see Note, this page)
Flaky sea salt
Freshly ground black pepper
Put the potatoes and bay leaf in a large saucepan and add enough cold water to cover the potatoes by 1 inch. Season generously with kosher salt. Place the pan over high heat and bring to a boil. Decrease the heat to maintain a simmer and cook until the potatoes are tender when pierced with a fork, 5 to 10 minutes, depending on their size. Drain the potatoes in a colander and discard the bay leaf. Set the potatoes aside to cool to room temperature.
Meanwhile, bring a large pot of water to a boil and season it generously with kosher salt. Prepare a large bowl of ice water and season that generously with salt too.
Drop the carrots into the boiling water and cook until crisp-tender, 3 to 4 minutes. Lift the carrots from the water using a large spider or skimmer and transfer them to the ice water to stop cooking. Once cooled, remove the carrots from the ice bath and pat them dry. Repeat to blanch the green beans and cauliflower.
Store, covered with damp paper towels in a sealed container, in the refrigerator for up to 2 days.
Attractively arrange all the carrots, green beans, cauliflower, fennel, radishes, and snap peas on a large serving platter. Tear the eggs in half and nestle them among the vegetables. Season the yolks with flaky salt and pepper. Add small sprigs of fennel fronds here and there and serve.
