16.8.10

plum fennel salad

as i plow through my last few days of work, i plan on listening to an indecent amount of george michael and consuming an equally obscene amount of watermelon. and possibly seeing dean wareham (of galaxie 500) on thursday, but it's so $$$ and i have so little $$$. friday is my final day of employment, the day by which i hope to have finally checked the last few new york must-eats off my list (donut plant, you will be mine) as well as a last visit to cb i hate perfume (fittingly, i've been wearing their italian fennel accord all summer but would like to stock up on "faggot" for wintertime) before hopping the train to connecticut for a few last days. days to pack, to engage in such serious internal debates as "would i rather pay for shipping for my crustacean printed serving tray or my egg-poaching pan? i definitely don't want to give up my staunchly old-fashioned but highly effective egg-poaching technique, but i'll have four roommates, and what if they all want poached eggs at the same time? then the hot water method is vastly impractical. but i really love that serving tray too..." (very important answer: i packed both, giving an extra saucepan the boot instead. oh, and don't even get me started on the microwave method for poaching eggs, which i only very recently found out was an option. it's a little eerie but totally amazing.)
last night it rained properly for the first time in awhile, of course inflicting widespread panic on the streets and an instantaneous sidewalk umbrella market like it always does (pshhh). but anyway, i was so excited by the idea of a cool, grey evening that we decided not to go out and instead put on sweaters and made big plans to spend the night inside watching movies. the rain stopped about ten minutes later (again, pshhh) and we admitted defeat and went out to do stuff, but i realized how oddly appealing the prospect of cool, gray, rainy portland (and all the jacket-and-scarf wearing that it entails) is. oh, i'll be complaining about it in a few months, spending an unhealthy amount of time in the reed college sauna, and stressing about the likelihood of foot rot, yes, but it's cool because my future bedroom has a fireplace in it (!). oh, and i can totally ride a bike now (irrelevant but boy am i proud).
so: food. i made a salad with plums and fennel snatched from the greenmarket in the frantic few minutes of closing time before the skies split open. plated, it won't win any beauty contests, but close your eyes: plums and fennel (together at last!) are too good to pass up. i somehow wound up with two different varieties of prune plums, both no larger than walnuts: the longer, thinner ones, which were firmer and tarter; and the rounder, more yielding ones which were far sweeter. i ate the leftover fruit tonight, hovering over the sink to catch errant juice drips, alternating between the two types: drizzling honey on the sour kind and balsamic vinegar on the sweet ones. both were delicious. i'm kicking myself yet again for not having an ice cream machine, because i bet plum ice cream drizzled with a honeyed balsamic reduction would be out of this world.
i threw in a few handfuls of mixed greens almost as an afterthought, so feel free to skip them if you like. also, in the name of full disclosure, i intended this to be a shaved fennel salad but got bored halfway through and switched to chopping. vegetable peelers are simply not meant to shave fennel--but give it ago if you're more patient than i am, or if you have a mandoline or a v-slicer. i also thought the textural variety of shaved and slivered fennel was kind of nice, but that might be a bit of a reach. either way, it's a damn good salad.
plum fennel salad
serves two as a side
  • 1 tbsp white wine vinegar
  • 1 tbsp mustard of your choice (i like a spicy brown mustard here)
  • 1 tsp honey
  • 1 tbsp olive oil
  • salt and red pepper flakes to taste
  • about 2/3 lb small, ripe plums of your choosing (i used prune plums)
  • 1 medium sized bulb of fennel
  • a few handfuls of greens of your choice (optional)
in a mug or small bowl, combine first three ingredients. whisking constantly with a fork, slowly drizzle in olive oil to emulsify. add salt and crushed red pepper flakes to taste. taste and adjust as necessary. set aside.

chop plums into thin slices, removing pits. chop fronds off of fennel, reserving some for garnish if you like. after removing the base of the fennel, either shave or chop the whole bulb into very fine slivers (after switching to a knife, i was aiming for a matchstick-like shape). make sure to do this last, as fennel browns quickly when chopped.

in a large bowl, combine plums, fennel and greens (if using). pour dressing, toss well, and taste for seasoning. adjust as necessary--if your plums are very tart, an extra drizzle of honey couldn't hurt, etc. etc. garnish with reserved fennel fronds if you like and serve immediately (very good alongside pizza).

0 comments:

Post a Comment